Author's Note: Okay, consider yourself warned. Mikayla lets loose in this chapter, so be prepared for some particularly foul language ahead. This is also a long chapter, which is partly to blame for it taking so darn long to get finished.
Here are my standard disclaimers: I make no claims on any of Disney's, Miley Cyrus', Emily Osment's or Hannah Montana's trademarks or copyrights, and no infringement is intended on them or those of any other artist or publication mentioned. Be forewarned that this story most certainly will contain femslash. If love and affection between two consenting young adults of the same sex bothers you, I suggest you turn right around and find something else to read. Keep any flames to yourself and remember that what our world needs now is more love and acceptance, not more hate. Reviews are always welcomed and appreciated!
We Got Nerve
by Jo K.
Chapter 30: Just a Step Away
Now she found herself in the fast lane, living day to day
Turned her back on her best friendship and watched her family slip away
Just like a lost soul caught up in the Hollywood scene
All the parties and the limousines
Such a good actress, hiding all her pain
Trading her memories for fortune and fame
Just a step away from the edge of a fall
Caught between heaven and hell
Where's the girl I knew a year ago?
--Poison, "Fallen Angel"
The soft rustle of newspaper pages turning was accompanied by the lilting sound of humming as Miley Truscott sat on the back porch of her Malibu home, the morning ocean breeze caressing her face as it gently tossed her hair to and fro. She smiled as she looked down and saw the happy grin of her daughter Brooke as the infant took her own breakfast from her mother's left breast.
"I'm jealous," said Lilly Truscott as she slipped out the door onto the back porch, carrying a bowl of cereal and a glass of milk.
"And why's that?" Miley said slowly through the smile on her face, shading the morning sun with her free left hand.
"Because," Lilly said as she bent down to first kiss her daughter on the head and then her wife on the lips. "She gets to do that whenever she wants." She sat down at the small bamboo breakfast table next to her wife and daughter.
Miley smiled more broadly as she looked at her radiant wife while the sunlight painted Lilly's dark blonde hair several shades lighter. "So do you," she said smugly to her best friend.
"Yeah, but people tend to stare when I do it," Lilly replied, a sly grin on her face as she sipped her hot tea.
"That's 'cause you look hot when you do it."
"Mmm, I bet I do." Lilly reached across the small table and took her wife's hand, lightly rubbing the tip of her thumb across Miley's palm. The two of them sat in comfortable silence for several minutes, lost in their loving thoughts until Lilly's head jerked up and she caught Miley's eye. "Maybe we should get a bigger blanket. You know, to cover my head better."
When Miley sputtered in laughter, it sprayed across Brooke's head, eliciting a fussy cry from the growing baby. "Dang it," she said, taking her free hand out of Lilly's grasp and gently dabbing with a napkin at their daughter's cheek and temple. "That was your mommy's fault," she said playfully to Brooke as she looked sidelong at Lilly, who was trying her best not to laugh. "Yes, it was. So you make sure that next time you need to fill your diaper, you do it when she's holding you, okay?"
Lilly frowned. "That was fighting dirty," she said flatly.
In Los Angeles, the morning sun's rise into the sky had been carefully observed for several hours by Mikayla. She had come up to the patio set atop her Beverly Hills home before the first hints of pink peeked above the horizon to the east, and she had sat alone, lost in her thoughts, for the last three hours.
The dried tears on her face tugged ever so slightly as Mikayla tilted her head down to look at the picture she held in her left hand. It was a picture of her with Kasey, both girls smiling and hugging each other, taken just a week before her best friend had died. It was also the last picture that Kasey's mother had taken of either girl. Emilia Gomez had lost her parents when just a teenager and her husband shortly after Kasey was born. She had never been close to her older sister Vera, and having her only child cruelly ripped away from her at such a young age had proven to be a mortal spiritual wound. She had found Kasey's friend Mikayla an agent shortly before Kasey's death, and with early success of Mikayla's first single "If Cupid Had a Heart," it seemed that Mikayla's career was off to a promising start. Satisfied that Kasey's friend was going to be looked after, Emilia had taken two bottles of her sleeping pills and pain medicine, drank an entire bottle of scotch and went to bed, never to wake up.
Mikayla felt her tears start anew at the bitter memory. She had been angry that Emilia wouldn't return her calls, and her teenaged pride wouldn't let her go check on the woman who had been the closest anyone had ever come to being a mother to her. It had been five days before one of Emilia's neighbors called the police, and when Mikayla learned what had happened, she took all the feelings of regret and loss and pushed them as deep into her soul as she possibly could, walling them off where the pain would be minimal. She had to focus on her career, to make it big like she had promised herself, like she had promised Kasey, and mourning would only get in the way.
But what had she sacrificed along the way to her success? Her heart? Her feelings? Her very soul?
"It wasn't worth it," Mikayla said to herself, her voice dry and hoarse from crying all night. She looked up at the sky, at how the morning sun painted the sky with hues of red, orange and rose. It might have just been from all the pollutants in the air, but it was undeniably beautiful. She felt pangs of remorse stab into her heart, and briefly she wondered how many mornings she had blown off, too tired or hungover or high to just walk outside and take in the simple joy of being alive.
She shook her head and stood. No time for those regrets now. There was too much to get finished today, before the special meeting at Dyseni Records this evening. Vera Blaike had looked surprised yesterday when Mikayla had asked her to set up this meeting, but she had agreed to do so without any further questions. Mikayla hadn't bothered to tell Margot just yet, and that was something she was not looking forward to.
Margot Walters, however, might have been loud, arrogant, pushy and a heartless bitch, but stupid she was not. While Mikayla went back into her Beverly Hills home to get dressed, Margot was holding her own impromptu meeting in her Santa Monica home's office.
She had been uncharacteristically nervous the previous night and all morning. Her nervous pacing so far this morning had nearly worn the soles out of her Mephisto Abbie shoes before her potential client had arrived. She had both anticipated and dreaded this moment for years, and her heart pounded relentlessly in her chest as she sat at her modest cherry wood desk. "So," she said after several awkward seconds of silence. She glanced to the side, where the computer tech accompanying the prospective buyer stood, wordlessly examining the room with her eyes, almost invisible beneath the brim of her baseball cap. "Was it really necessary to bring her?" Margot asked, not really expecting an answer.
"Oh, absolutely."
The smile on Margot's face was forced as she said, "Why? I'm giving you the password to decrypt the hard drive with the files on it."
"You're not giving me anything. I'm buying what you're selling."
"Well, you've got a point there," Margot said pleasantly, laughing slightly.
"And since I'm paying you a fucking fortune, I'll bring anybody I want with me. Unless you've decided that you're not interested, that is."
"NO!" Margot nearly jumped out of her seat, her arm and hand extended in front of her. "I'm still interested, I mean. In selling." In truth, Margot was well aware that there had been several parties interesting in obtaining what she was selling. However, this was by far the best deal, so she could put up with a few... eccentricities.
She picked up the black metallic external hard drive, hefting it once before reaching across the desk and placing it carefully at the desk's edge. "It's all on here. Pictures, scanned images, video... a little bit of everything. I think you'll be quite pleased, if I do say so myself. There's enough stuff on here to wreck her career ten times over."
"How's it encrypted?"
Margot turned to regard the tech who had just spoken. She had forgotten the woman was still there, she had been so quiet. But as Margot met her gaze, she felt a twinge of uneasiness. "Uh, BitLocker," she haltingly said. She opened one of the desk drawers and sifted through it briefly before retrieving a sealed envelope, small enough that it had probably been meant for a greeting card or invitation of some sort. "Here's the password," Margot said, placing the envelope atop the black Seagate hard drive. The only reply she received was a simple nod of the head from the other woman, who went back to looking around the room before walking over to the desk.
Margot looked up as the casually dressed technician leaned across the desk, inspecting Margot's work laptop closely. "Can I help you with something?" she asked the technician haughtily, irritated that the woman was encroaching on her personal space.
"Yeah, you can tell me how many other computers and external hard drives you have here," the smaller woman said. She was younger than Margot, that much was certain, but it was hard to tell if it was closer to five or fifteen years younger with the cap covering most of her reddish hair and face.
"And why would I tell you that?" countered Margot, her voice rising slightly.
"Can we just get this signed, please?" asked the third woman, still sitting across the desk from Margot but now leaning forward over the edge of the desk. Margot turned her attention to the papers being pushed across the desk to her.
"Is this..." she asked as she spread the two neatly typed pages apart.
"Stipulations for this... sale. I think you'll see that I'm willing to go slightly above the number we were discussing earlier."
Margot couldn't control her eyes widening as she saw the numbers written on the contract. "Slightly above?" she said aloud. "That's..."
"...Enough that there shouldn't be any bitching about the terms of this offer, I would think," the other woman said, drawing a quiet laugh from the computer tech still hovering too close for Margot's comfort. "So what exactly is this extra money buying me, you might be wondering?"
Rather than reply verbally, Margot began reading the two-page contract. However, her buyer kept talking as she tried to read.
"I'll tell you what it's buying me," the other woman said. "It's buying me your external hard drive with the files on it, the password to decrypt it, your desk computer here, your laptop computer, which is why I told you to bring it from your office, all your flash drives, all your other external hard drives, backup CDs, everything that could possibly have another copy of those files."
Margot felt her stomach grow cold as she looked up. "That's not what we had agreed to earlier," she said, suddenly more nervous than she had been before this meeting.
"I realize that. That's why this-", she paused as she held up a cashier's check with quite a few zeroes visible on its face, "-is so much bigger than the figure we had agreed to earlier."
"I have appointments saved on those computer," Margot countered, shaking her head. "Phone numbers, contact information..."
"All of which will be moved onto flash drives or memory cards, your choice, and returned to you without us keeping any copies of that information. Plus you also agree to never disclose the terms of this deal or even the deal itself, under penalty of being forced to return the entire sum."
Margot thought briefly, considering her options. Her laptop she could care less about, but there were some other files on her home computer that she didn't want to lose—or, worse, for others to find. Still, those files had been encrypted and hidden, and those really weren't what this buyer was after, anyway. She just didn't want Margot to keep any other copies of the dirt on Mikayla, most likely to boost the value of what she was buying. And it would serve the little bitch Mikayla right to get squeezed for all she was worth.
Margot smiled, sly like a viper ready to strike. After today, Mikayla's career would be over, one way or another. It was time to get out while what she was selling was most valuable.
"You've got a deal," Margot said, signing the contract and pushing it back across the desk.
Jen Kittrell smiled and handed the cashier's check for ten million dollars to Margot. "It's not been a pleasure doing business with you, Margot," Jen said, her own thin smile firmly in place as she spoke.
"Same here, Kittrell," Margot replied. "But I'll spend your bosses' money all the same," she added with a loud laugh.
After three hours searching Margot's home and collecting her home computer, two laptops, two external hard drives and a handful of flash drives and memory cards, Jen and her computer technician finally sat down in the sedan they had rented for this very purpose. "So how do we know that she doesn't have another copy of everything on her computer at her office?" Jen asked. "I don't trust that disgusting bitch any more than I can throw her, and I'm not that fucking strong."
The woman sitting beside Jen in the front pulled the baseball cap off her head, shaking her medium-length red hair out before turning to look at Jen.
"Because," said Luanne with a smile, "I already checked it. She doesn't have anything on Mikayla on it. Not much of anything incriminating, either. Dyseni must do some serious monitoring of their network."
Jen smiled. "So you got into her office at Dyseni and checked her computer?" Luanne nodded. "And got past her password, I assume?" Another nod. "Do I really want to know how you did that?"
"Probably not," Luanne admitted. "It's better for both of us." She smiled, open and happy. "If that works for you."
Jen turned her attention back to the road as she started the car. "Fuck yeah, that works for me," she said as she shifted the car into gear. "How long to check the files?"
"Oh, I'll check the files on that hard drive as soon as I get back to my hotel," Luanne said. "Won't take much longer to check the flashies and cards, either. What'll take a while is combing through the rest of her computer plus those others for anything else she might have hidden on them."
"Well, let me know what we've got on Mikayla as soon as you can, okay?" Jen asked, heart still beating fast from the very expensive purchase she had just made. "I don't want this to blow up in our faces. If Margot's dumping her blackmail files on Mikayla, something big is about to go down. I just don't know who's going to be covered in shit when it's all over."
Luanne nodded. While Jen hadn't told her any details about her bosses being Hannah and Lola Montana, Luanne had pieced together their involvement in this without much difficulty. She did note that Jen was taking great care to not mention her bosses by name, so Luanne was taking similar precautions to not let slip that she already knew whom Jen worked for or that she knew Hannah and Lola were also Miley and Lilly. In fact, she hadn't even told her sister and sister-in-law that she was in town, since Jen had already stressed secrecy and discretion as paramount to this particular job. Miley had given her the heads up that Hannah and Lola's manager was probably going to be calling with a question about computers, but they had given Luanne the impression that she was more interested in buying a computer for her personal use. It had been a bit of a surprise when Luanne had found out the true purpose behind Jen's need for a computer expert. Still, the pay was quite good, it gave her a bit of a break from her regular IT job, and it gave her the chance to help her sisters out in a way that only she could. And it presented one more very cool puzzle to solve.
Mikayla spent most of the morning in postproduction for her newest video, making sure that the look reflected the more serious and reflective mood she had been going for with what would most likely be her last single, at least for Dyseni. Maybe for the entire music industry. Whatever Margot was up to, Mikayla had to assume that all her dirty laundry would be revealed to the public immediately after the meeting tonight. And when that happened, Mikayla's career would be over.
"Look good to you, Mikayla?" asked the video's director. He had treated Mikayla fairly and professionally during the entire video process, not just the filming but also the planning and postproduction work. It had been a very pleasant surprise to be treating like she actually knew what the fuck she was doing, and Mikayla hoped that his name wouldn't be hurt through association with her.
"Yeah, it looks great," she managed to say, her voice uncharacteristically dry.
"You okay?" he asked, looking at her with a touch of concern on her face.
"Yeah," she lied, nodding to buy herself a few seconds. "It just turned out so good that I'm, um, a bit emotional about it." Well, that was true, at least.
His face softened a bit, and he gave her a reassuring smile. "Whoever this guy was, he must have been really special to you," he said. "I think all of us here have cried over this video at some point."
Mikayla's heart was pounding as she considered her words carefully. Truthfully, what more could being honest hurt her career at this point, at the end of things? "It, uh..." she began haltingly. "It... wasn't a guy. But yeah, she was really special to me. More special than I realized until it was... too late. Until she was gone."
There was a pregnant pause hanging between them for several seconds, then the director finally said, "Does the video say what you want it to say? Does it say what you feel, in your heart?"
Mikayla nodded, not breaking eye contact with the older man. "Yeah, it does. She'd be proud of it."
"Then you should be proud of it too," he said, standing up to shake her hand. "Screw your reputation, Mikayla, you did a damn good job on this video, going from planning to wrapped in less than a week. I'll work with you again anytime."
You say that now. But he meant it, she knew that. "Thanks," she said, shaking his hand and then spontaneously giving him a hug. "No matter what anyone else ever says about me, it's nice knowing that at least one person in this town knows that there's some talent and professionalism beneath the spoiled bitch exterior. Thank you for that." She let him go and then turned and walked quickly from the room, holding her tears in until she was safely outside.
Mikayla didn't remember much about the drive to Malibu. Numbly she made her way to Miley's and Lilly's house, uneasy about what reception awaited her there. As she turned onto the street fronting their house, she saw their pearlescent Tesla S3 sedan sitting peacefully in the driveway. She stopped just past the driveway, throwing the rumbling Aston Martin Vanquish into reverse as she backed into the drive. It was a habit she had picked up for when she might have to make a quick getaway, whether from a pack of paparazzi or a sex partner.
She walked quickly to the front door, her oversize sunglasses concealing a significant amount of her face. She rang the doorbell twice before knocking; still, no one came to the door.
They're probably in there watching, with Miley trying to hold Lilly back to keep her from paying me back for what I did to their friend Hannah. It'd serve me right to have her kick my ass. I probably wouldn't even fight back right now.
She turned around and started to walk back to her car when the sound of laughter and squeals wafted along the salty ocean breeze to her ears. She turned and followed the sound, peeking around the corner of the house to see a fairly large deck attached to the back side of the house. She carefully made her way around the rear sidewalk, stopping behind the cover of some large landscaping plants as she looked at the open beach leading from the house to the ocean.
Lilly and Miley were playing in the ocean, with Lilly's blonde hair nearly gleaming in the bright sunlight. She was bent over, splashing water up at Miley, who was either trying to shield herself with their baby or get the little girl wet. Maybe both. Mikayla couldn't help but sadly smile at how happy they looked, taking time out of their day to play with each other. Taking time to appreciate each other. I don't deserve that, she thought bitterly. But I really fucking WANT it, and I'll probably never have it.
She watched the three Truscotts play on the beach for a few more minutes, then she made her retreat when it seemed like they were ready to return to the house. Mikayla hustled around the sidewalk, falling into her car's cockpit and firing up the engine. She was careful not to spin the tires, but she still zipped out of the driveway as fast as she dared without breaking the Michelin tires loose. As she pulled out onto the street, she gunned the engine, launching the Vanquish past a small green car approaching her.
"Who was that?" asked Sarah Sweet as she turned into Lilly's and Miley's driveway. Her girlfriend Cassie Hughes had unbuckled her seatbelt and turned completely around in her seat trying to get a better view of the low-slung car speeding away from them.
"Couldn't really tell because of those sunglasses, but I think..." Cassie said, letting her voice trail off as Sarah brought the older Prius hybrid to a stop. "I think it was Mikayla," she said, looking into her partner Sarah's bright green eyes.
"Really?" Sarah said, incredulous. "What in the world would someone like her be doing at Miley's and Lilly's house?"
"I'm not sure," Cassie said, her thoughts racing. But I can guess it's not good.
As the two of them got out of their car, Miley, Lilly and Brooke came around the side of the house. "Hey ya'll!" Miley said, waving. "Thought we heard a car up here."
Lilly nodded as she carried Brooke over to their friends. Upon seeing Cassie's short but bright red hair, Brooke began to burble happily and reach for the tempting tresses. "She really loves your hair, Cass," Lilly said with a giggle as she handed Brooke over to Cassie.
"Yeah, her and Sarah both. But Sarah pulls it a bit harder than Brooke does."
"Cass!" Sarah yelled, a look of shock on her face. "You're not supposed to say stuff like that in public, baby!"
Cassie playfully rolled her eyes before leaning over to kiss Sarah on the lips. "This is Miley and Lilly, remember, Sar? Our two friends who'll talk orgasms and the positions they came in over brunch?"
"Hey, at least it's not boring conversation," Miley said, her face a bit red. "And we didn't know you two were up that time when we were trying to sound like each other's O-voice."
Cassie smiled and tickled Brooke's chin, getting another laugh from the baby. "It's okay, isn't it little Brookie? We all know your mommies are crazy about each other, don't we?"
"There was another car pulling out when we got here," Sarah said. "It looked big and expensive, like a rolling carbon emitter." She shuddered slightly at the unpleasant imagery. "Cassie said it looked like Mikayla," she added, leaving a question unasked. "But that just sounds weird. Why would some big star like her be out here?"
Miley and Lilly didn't even look at each other before Lilly replied, "Well, we all met a few years ago when we still went to Seaview. She showed back up a few months ago and said she wanted to be my friend, but then she hurt our friend Hannah on American Gladiators. I told her to get lost. Not sure why she'd be coming around now." Now Lilly did turn to look at Miley, and the look of concern in her eyes was matched by the same glint in Miley's. Miley nodded so slightly as to be imperceptible in response. Well, imperceptible to anyone but Lilly, who blew Miley a light kiss in response. Phone calls would be made as soon as the chance presented itself; until then, it was time to catch up with their friends.
"Mikayla! Did you have something you wanted to talk to me about before the meeting tonight?"
Mikayla stood outside the door to Vera Blaike's office, feeling apprehensive about what she was going to tell the one person who had supported her the whole time she had been at Dyseni Records. "Yeah," she finally said. "But I'm not sure you're going to like hearing it."
Vera motioned for the young singer to step inside, closing the door to her office behind them as she quickly scanned the hallway for any sign of Margot or her brother Lonnie. "Alright," Vera said as she walked over to where Mikayla was sitting, taking a seat on the leather couch close to where her company's premier artist was lightly perched. "What is it?"
Mikayla looked up, meeting Vera's inquisitive eyes with resolute ones. "I'm quitting," she said finally.
After a stunned pause, Vera said with a barely audible voice, "Quitting? What, Dyseni?"
"All of it," Mikayla said, her voice low but firm. "Dyseni, Margot, music, singing, all of it. I did anything I had to do to become famous, and along the way I sold my soul to that fucking bitch Margot. I kept telling myself I was doing it for Kasey, but Kasey wouldn't have wanted the bitch I became. I know I sure as hell don't want her, or even like her."
Vera sat in silence for a moment, trying to process what she was hearing. "But... You've grown up over this last month or two, Mikayla. You've shown signs of becoming a real artist, not just acting like a spoiled brat."
"Gee, thanks," Mikayla said with a sad smile on her face. "But you're right, that's exactly what I've acted like for fucking years now. And it's ending tonight."
"Then end it by standing up to Margot in that board room, dammit!" Vera said, trying to keep her voice low but not having much success. "Take your career back and let yourself be the girl Kasey was in love with!" Vera gasped when she realized the truth that had inadvertently slipped out, but the words had been said; there could be no taking them back. "Let yourself become the woman she wanted to spend the rest of her life with, even if life took her away from you," Vera said slowly, not trying to play the moment for melodrama but instead for what both of them knew to be the truth.
Tears slid down Mikayla's cheeks as she looked at her best friend's aunt. She slowly shook her head. "That woman isn't the singer that the world knows, Vera. I don't know if I can ever live up to being that person, but I know where I have to start, and it isn't here." She looked out at the dimming light outside the window, offering a spectacular view of the lights of Los Angeles. "And there's the matter of Margot's blackmail material."
"What?" Vera asked, her mind reeling from another surprise. "What did you say? She's blackmailing you?"
Mikayla nodded, looking down for a moment. She was ashamed that she had ever let herself be put in this position by Margot; she thought she had been so careful, so meticulous in her planning... but somehow Margot had known about her getting pregnant, all the while collecting evidence to use against the then-teenaged singer, including a copy of her medical chart both from her regular gynecologist and from the highly discreet private clinic Mikayla had used for the abortion.
"Kasey had wanted me to keep the baby," Mikayla said, now looking back at Vera. "After she found out. But it was too late. I didn't tell her until after I had..." She ran fingers through her long hair, the memories stinging as badly as they always did whenever she thought back to that time. "Until after it was done." Briefly, Mikayla considered telling Vera just who the father had been. But that had been another secret she had shared only with Kasey, and as long as Jake Ryan was alive, Mikayla would never give him the satisfaction of knowing he had managed to hurt her any more than he already had.
Vera reached out and carefully tucked a long strand of curls back behind the singer's left ear. "I didn't... I didn't know about any of that. Kasey never told me." Vera pondered the damning secret Mikayla had just confessed to her, and she wondered what else Margot might have against Mikayla. There had been plenty of rumors swirling over the years where Mikayla had dropped off the map. "She loved you since she was ten," she said, her tone of voice soothing and inviting, a voice quite suitable for sharing family secrets. "I kept trying to get her to tell you, but she said she couldn't take the chance of losing you."
"I..." Mikayla thought, her thoughts whirling around inside her head. "I... don't know if her telling me back then would have been a good thing... or a bad thing. I really don't know how I would've reacted."
Vera's smile was knowing, and she didn't press Mikayla further. "How would you have reacted now?" she asked softly.
Now Mikayla smiled; faint but obvious. "I'd have jumped in her arms and asked her to marry me that very same day." Then the smile faded, replaced with a more somber look. "But that's just a hope that'll never come true, and we both know it." She looked directly into Vera's eyes, the same deep hazel that Kasey's had been so many years ago. "What I can do is to take this evil, spiteful, angry, cutthroat bitch that I've become and throw her away, someplace so far away that she'll never be able to hurt anyone ever again. And then I'll spend all the time I have left on this earth trying to be someone that Kasey really would have been proud of." She reached into her purse and pulled out a manila envelope, handing it to Vera carefully and not letting go just yet. "Don't open this until after the board meeting, Vera. Can you promise me that?"
"Yes," Vera said quietly, a single tear escaping her eyelashes' grip and slithering down her right cheek. "I promise."
Mikayla released the envelope and leaned forward. She hugged Vera desperately, letting her tears flow through tightly squeezed eyelids and bury themselves in the older woman's dress shirt. They held each other in quiet support for long seconds, neither wanting to be the one to let go first. Finally Mikayla pulled back, giving Vera what she hoped was a confident smile. "Goodbye, Vera. Thanks for trying to look out for me. And thanks for finally helping to open my eyes to what a fucked-up mess I had let my life become."
And then she was gone, stepping around Vera Blaike and walking out of the large office. She didn't look back. Not once.
The elevator ride down two floors was a blessing, because Mikayla had the elevator entirely to herself. Focus, Mikki. You've got to be ice cold for another fifteen minutes, then you can fall apart as loudly and as ugly as you want. But don't give these pricks the satisfaction of letting them see it.
As the floor indicator dinged softly, Mikayla swallowed and stepped off the elevator. She stood in the hallway for a brief moment, taking the time to understand that her career was well and truly over. Margot would make sure of that, if she hadn't already put things into motion. But Mikayla had already invested a substantial deal of her money safely away from Margot's grasp, with most of the accounts and how she wanted them handled listed in the manila folder she had handed to Vera just minutes ago. She knew that Vera would carry out what she wanted done with them, just in case something were to happen to Mikayla before the night was over.
Mikayla shuddered. She had already considered the possibility of violence on Margot's part tonight. I could totally see the spiteful bitch stabbing or shooting me before the meeting is over. But where the prospect of such a death might have made her quiver in fear just a few days ago, the Mikayla standing just steps away from that impending confrontation instead smiled coldly. Well, if she does pull some shit like that, I can guarantee I'll die with my fucking hands around her big throat.
Standing on the brink of her final act as Dyseni's top recording artist, Mikayla felt a kind of peace inside her body, the peace that comes with the understanding that the end is near—and accepting it utterly. "Showtime," she said to herself as she pushed open the boardroom door.
A full room turned to look at the newcomer, with a mixture of smiles and glares shown to Mikayla in greeting. She ignored the hellos and other comments directed her way, instead walking to the podium beside the large LED television mounted on the conference room wall. She pulled her small laptop out of her purse and set it on the flat part of the podium's surface. She worked without any concern for the murmurs spreading around the board room, only looking up once to see Vera entering the room and then quickly taking a seat at the closest end of the table.
Once she had the computer hooked up to the input port for the television, she checked to make sure she had her media player program ready to go. Satisfied, she stepped out from behind the podium.
The whispers began to fade as Mikayla approached the large table dominating the board room. She leaned forward, resting both her hands on the mahogany wood, polished to a glassy sheen. She smiled her most cruel, gleeful smile as she calmly said, "I quit."
There was only a second of silence before raised voices filled the room. Mikayla stood, crossing her arms defiantly as she let a half-dozen executives yell at her as well as each other before one voice finally became loud enough to overpower the others. "ENOUGH!"
Everyone turned to look at Vera Blaike, whose face was uncharacteristically red as she sat straight as an arrow in her seat. "And why do you want to quit, Mikayla?" Vera asked, her voice slightly flustered.
"Remember, you're still under contract with us for three more albums over the next two years," said Lonnie Walters, sweat already dappling his forehead. "And we have the option to extend it another two years or two albums, too."
"Oh, I don't think you'll be doing that, Lonnie," Mikayla said, her voice oozing with confidence. She climbed up onto the large table, her shoes clicking on the slick surface as she walked its length, stopping right in front of Lonnie. She knelt down, letting her knees splay apart in an gesture both sexual and overtly dominating. The fact that she was wearing dress pants did nothing to lessen the primal signal she was sending. She smiled coldly as she added with a teasing voice, "Will you, now?"
When it obvious that no verbal reply was coming, Mikayla stood smoothly, walking atop the table back to its head, where she sat and then slid off, landing lightly on her feet with a dancer's grace. "Okay," she said, "you're going to release me from my contract."
"And why in God's name would we do that?" spit the current board chairman, someone whom either Miley or Lilly would have instantly recognized had they ever seen his face or his name. But he had been careful to conceal his presence since seizing control of Dyseni Records in a carefully planned buyout over a year ago, paving the way for his attempt to destroy the career of Hannah Montana, a figure he despised both for what she represented and for his embarrassment at her hands over two years ago.
William Harris.
Mikayla had never bothered to learn his name, much less his antagonistic history with Hannah and Lola Montana. She had slept with his son Trey after a release party, though.
She turned to face him directly. "Because I don't like the terms in it," she said, as if it were so simple that everyone should have understood already.
"Young lady," Harris said, his body visibly shaking with anger, "I will see to it that your career in music is over. OVER!" He took a few seconds to regain some semblance of control, then he continued. "You will not be released from your contract. You will not retain any control over your music. You will not ever work in THIS TOWN AGAIN! I will personally destroy your career and any shred of respectability you still possess!"
Mikayla held his baleful glare for several seconds before she sweetly asked, "Finished?" Not giving him a chance to reply, she lifted her gaze to scan the entire board room as she said, "You see, threats don't bother me tonight." She flicked her gaze back down to Harris. "My career is already fucked, so your threats don't mean shit to me, old man." She stared into his eyes as she added, "Do your fucking worst. Oh, and your son likes a finger or two up his ass before he cums. Really turns him the fuck on." She winked at Harris, who leaped out of his chair and took two steps toward Mikayla before he was grabbed by another executive.
"Ooooh, struck a nerve, did I?" Mikayla cooed, relishing the sight of Dyseni's CEO totally out of control. "Maybe daddy likes it that way, too, hm?"
"You're an uncouth whore!" spit Harris, flecks quite visibly flying from his lips. "A no-talent... SKANK!" The derogatory slang sounded quite unnatural coming from his mouth, and Mikayla couldn't help but laugh once at how ridiculous the scene had become.
"Well, I've got some talent, so that one's wrong," she replied calmly, hearing a quickly muffled single laugh come from somewhere down the table. "Now sit the fuck down!" she yelled, pointing at Harris's empty seat. "Because you're gonna want to hear this. Well, see it and hear it."
She walked back to the podium. She slid the cursor to the file she wanted, double-clicking the trackpad button to start the video playing.
As the high-definition picture of a naked Mikayla atop Lonnie Walters filled the television screen, the room erupted in shouts and raised voices. The angle clearly showed the two of them in Mikayla's bed, with the camera set diagonally in relation to the bed, giving an extremely clear picture of Mikayla aggressively riding the much older man as they had sex.
"I look pretty good from that angle, don't I?" Mikayla asked the board after nearly two minutes of the hardcore sex video. The voices had faded into stunned silence by then, and her voice carried clearly throughout the room. "I've got lots of these, with several different positions and camera angles to choose from. Oh, here's a good part coming up," she said, sliding the volume controls up much higher.
"Are you gonna get me a better percentage for my next album, Lonnie?" the Mikayla in the video asked, tossing her long hair back over her shoulder to prevent it obscuring her face. "Since I'm fucking you and sucking your dick?"
"Yeah, baby," replied the video Lonnie Walters, his voice flush with lust. "Lonnie's gonna take good care of his little Mikki as long as she takes good care of me!"
Video Mikayla looked directly into the camera and winked, biting her bottom lip in a feral smile. "And you'll get me a better office? And a better dance studio? I just have to keep having sex with you?"
"Yeah, yeah," moaned Video Lonnie, his eyes clenched shut as he thrust upward again and again, trying to keep pace with the energetic woman astride him.
Mikayla hit the pause button, freezing the video on a particularly clear still of her grinding her body down onto her partner. She looked around the room, relishing the look of shock on Margot's face more than anything else. "THAT'S sexual harassment," she said calmly. "In HD, too!"
She looked back down at Harris, who looked like he was about to lay a square egg. "That'll make a good headline, won't it? 'Pop star coerced into sex games with Dyseni Records executive in control of her career!' Wonder what that'll do to your stock, asshole?"
Even with the knowledge that she was committing career suicide, Mikayla couldn't help but feel a glow of selfish pride as she savored having every eye, every breath, every heartbeat in the room focused on her and her alone. She was a born performer, and tonight she was performing, by God, like she never had before.
Foolish? Sure.
Masochistic? Probably.
Captivating? Without a doubt.
Mikayla made a show of looking at her neatly buffed and polished nails, a shiny platinum tonight. "So," she finally said, "Here's how it's going to go. I'm done. No more records, no more singles, no more tours or appearances."
"I will not be—"
"Shut him up!" snapped Vera, gesturing at William Harris. "Getting angry isn't accomplishing anything here. William, after you've had time to cool the hell off, you can resume being CEO. Right now I'm officially ignoring you and your bullshit temper, and as Executive Vice President and Chief Operating Officer, I've got the authority to do so." Vera turned to look at Mikayla; she hoped that no one could notice how badly her heart was pounding and how close she was to passing out. "Done," she said to Mikayla. "What else?"
"Dyseni stops any and all use of my name or likeness. All rights revert back to me, immediately."
"Royalties stay the same," Vera said quickly. "Dyseni keeps the share we've always gotten from your music sales and airplay."
"That's fine," Mikayla said with a slow nod. "I get to keep any gifts that Dyseni has already given to me, no strings attached. I've already paid for my house and cars, but I want to make sure that you don't have some fucking clause that lets the company repossess everything or some shit like that."
Vera nodded. "And in return, we get all files of that video and any more like it."
"You can have them, but I keep one in a safe location. Just in case Dyseni ever tries to go back on its word."
"I don't like that, but I suppose you're not budging on that point. Okay. But in return, you agree to no new records deals, no tours, no paid appearances or performances as a singer whatsoever, and no new singles or albums for five years. We'll allow a few exceptions provided all proceeds from a performance or song go entirely to charity." Vera smiled sadly. She hated to have to do this to Mikayla after everything the young singer had been through, but she had a duty to every employee at her company as well. "You wanted out, Mikayla. This'll get you well and truly out."
Mikayla shook her head quickly. "Okay, fine. I do want out of this fucking business, and I've got enough to live on for a long damn time." Which was true. While nowhere in the league of Hannah Montana's, Mikayla's royalties were significant, bringing in a comfortable sum that had only swelled over the last year.
Vera turned to a woman who appeared to be in her thirties, who was furiously typing on a computer. "Are you getting this down, Maxine?" As the assistant nodded in affirmation, Vera looked back to Mikayla. "We're going to type this up, run it by legal, who we've got here tonight, and then we'll sign it right here."
"That works for me," replied Mikayla flatly. "I'm sure I won't be welcome here again after tonight. Okay. Next, I want Margot fired."
"It'll be my pleasure. Margot, you're fired. Get out."
"I have some things that I—"
"Security will escort you out right now. I'll have someone box your things up and send them to your residence."
Mikayla cheerily added, "If they can find the rock you crawled out from under."
Margot's head whipped around faster than Mikayla had thought possible as she turned to regard the singer. "Listen, you little spoiled brat—"
"No, Margot, YOU listen!" Mikayla said hotly. "For eight goddamn years you've managed every aspect of my life, and you've done a shitty job of it!"
"I made you a fucking star, missy!" Margot yelled back, face turning crimson.
"No, you made me a fucking mess!" Mikayla shot back, raising her own voice to match Margot's volume.
Margot paused before an oily smile spread across her face. "You did that to yourself, you arrogant little bitch. And you deserve everything that's coming to you."
Mikayla was trembling inside at the venom in Margot's voice, but she held her ground. "Yeah, I probably do," she said defiantly. "But you won't be there to gloat over it, because you're done in this town too."
As two plainclothes security personnel moved to stand behind her, Margot glanced at them with disdain before she slowly walked along the length of the table. She kept walking until she was two feet away from Mikayla, leading the security men to reach out to lightly touch her arms. But she made no move toward Mikayla, instead she just glared daggers at her client.
"By the way, Margot, you're fired," Mikayla said. "Just to make it official from me as well."
Margot spit in Mikayla's face, the wetness striking the singer on the nose, cheek and mouth. "I've wanted to do that for eight years, you stupid fucking twat," she sneered.
Mikayla continued to hold Margot's stare, deliberately not wiping her face. Suddenly her right arm shot up and forward as her fist slammed into Margot's nose with the wet crunch of snapping cartilage. Margot blinked three times, her expression indicating astonishment at what had just happened, then a rivulet of blood surged from both nostrils right before she covered her nose with both hands and shrieked loudly.
"Well, I've been wanting to do that for eight years," Mikayla said loudly, "and it was worth every motherfucking SECOND!" She looked at the closest security guard. "Get her big ass out of here," she said curtly. "She can't get out of my sight fast enough."
As Margot was guided out of the boardroom, Mikayla turned to look once again at Vera Blaike. "So do we have a deal?" she asked confidently.
"I believe we do," the older woman replied.
"Wait," Mikayla said, cursing at herself internally for nearly forgetting. "I just finished postproduction on a video this morning. I want it released. I don't care if I get anything for it or not, but I want it in circulation."
Vera's face was blank as she asked, "Why do you want it to get played so badly?"
"Because it's about someone very... special to me," Mikayla said quietly.
The silence and lack of venom immediately told Vera just whom that special someone was. "Alright. I guarantee you that video will be played. And since you finished it this morning, you'll still get paid for it, plus the royalties from its airplay."
Within minutes the separation agreement was finished. Mikayla and Vera finalized a few remaining minor points before the contract was printed, then it was ready for their signatures. Mikayla signed the three copies of the document with no hesitation. As Vera put her name on each document, the legal department notarized them immediately.
Vera slid a copy of the separation agreement across the table to Mikayla. "There you go, Mikayla," she said, fighting to keep her voice steady.
Mikayla reached across the table and lightly grasped Vera's hand. "Thank you," she said politely, giving the older woman a smile. She stood, giving a last look around the spacious boardroom and its multiple occupants before turning and walking out of the room.
She stopped in the hall and looked at the large framed picture of her on the wall next to the boardroom. It had been placed there when she first signed with Dyseni over a year ago, replacing the picture of Dyseni's previous premiere artist, Hannah Montana. She turned back toward the open door to the boardroom and loudly said, "And somebody take this damn picture of me off the wall out here!" as she pointed at the oversized print. "I don't work here any more," she said in a more controlled voice, allowing herself to smile as she walked away from Dyseni Records.
Miley and Lilly were getting ready for bed when Lilly heard her phone beep a single time, indicating a text message. Miley was getting Brooke's pajamas on, so Lilly finished brushing her teeth and picked up her phone to check the message. As she read the succinct text, a worried expression crossed her face. She looked at her face in the mirror for a moment, then she hurried down the hall, keeping her steps light to prevent any noise that might startle Brooke or Miley. She quickly descended the stairs and crossed the living room with just a few strides, taking mere seconds to unlock the front door and step outside, closing the door behind her quietly.
Jen Kittrell was standing on the front porch, a light jacket keeping the night's breeze at bay. She didn't say anything at first. She and Lilly simply looked at each other, both of them at once excited and apprehensive that this moment had come.
Lilly spoke first, her voice low and measured. "I'm sorry for ever asking you to do this, Jen."
"No, you're not. And I'm not sorry I did it." Jen's voice was neither angry or judgmental, and Lilly was glad for that.
Lilly nodded, understanding exactly what Jen meant. "You're right. I'm not sorry for asking you to do this, because it's protecting Miley."
Jen raised her right arm to offer a sealed envelope. Lilly carefully took it, lightly shaking it to feel a small object slide around inside.
"SD card," Jen said. "It's got everything I've pulled together so far, and there might be more coming."
Lilly lifted her gaze from the envelope to her friend and business manager. "Is it enough?" she finally asked.
"To ruin her career?"
"Yeah."
"Oh yeah. From just the little bit that I saw, there's enough on there to ruin her whole fucking life."
Lilly felt a chill slither down her spine, and she immediately knew that Miley would have felt it too. "I need to go back inside," she said. "Miley'll know that something's going on now, and I need to let her see this." Lilly gave Jen a hug, and surprisingly her normally reserved friend hugged her back.
"This was expensive," Jen whispered into Lilly's ear. "Really fucking expensive. I'm sorry."
Lilly shook her head. "I told you that I didn't care about that, Jen, back when I first asked you to do this. And I still don't care about how much it cost."
"It's not spending the damn money, Lilly. You two can afford it easily. What I'm pissed about is who I had to pay to get this."
Lilly wiped tears away as she smiled despite the emotions stirred up inside her. "You'll get over it," she said playfully. "Now get your butt home to your husband. It's late."
Jen gave Lilly a smile that revealed how relieved she was for this particular duty to be over. "Go give your wife and baby a goodnight kiss for me, Lilly. They're awful damn lucky to have someone like you watching over them."
"Funny," Lilly said as Jen stepped off the porch, "I was just thinking the same thing about us being lucky to have someone like you watching over us."
"Night, Lilly."
"Have a good night yourself, Jen."
Lilly watched Jen get into her car, then she turned and quietly slipped back inside. It was no surprise to see Miley sitting on the couch, her bare legs crossed as she sat in quiet vigilance in just a soft pink Supergirl Skate Jam t-shirt, eyes boring a hole into her wife. "Okay, whatever that was about had better be good for you to slip outside without so much as telling me," Miley said, her voice sounding somewhere between surprised and hurt.
Lilly walked over to the couch and sat down, laying her bare left leg across Miley's crossed ones. Even with the tension, both women felt their bodies shudder at the sensation of smooth, hot skin on skin. Lilly took Miley's hands as she softly spoke, "Do you remember last winter, when we were at your Mamaw's? We were talking, and I told you that I needed to tell you something, and you said that you trusted me and that I didn't have to tell you right then."
"I said that I knew you'd tell me when the time was right," Miley replied, nodding. "Yeah, I remember." The tenseness in her body began to fade slightly as she looked at the envelope Lilly was holding.
"The time's right," Lilly said with a grim expression, using her index finger to tear the envelope open.
It was several hours later and several miles away in Los Angeles that Luanne stepped out of the shower and toweled off. She wrapped the towel around her hair and slipped into her silk nightshirt as she crossed the motel room and sat down at the desk where she had Margot's home computer hooked up to one of her own laptops. "So what have you found for us, baby?" Luanne said affectionately to the laptop she had named Babydoll, giving its white casing a gentle pat. "Did you get that nasty encryption broken yet?"
Luanne had noticed a large chunk of hard drive space on Margot's computer that was occupied by something, but there seemed to be no way to access it. It took her just a few minutes to confirm that the unaccounted-for hard drive space was an invisible file, and it had taken slightly more to find a way to make the file or files visible again. But cracking the encryption she had discovered protecting those files was going to take significantly longer, so she had copied the files on the external hard drive that Margot's password had unlocked onto the memory card she had given Jen earlier, along with what files she found unencrypted in the "Mikayla" folder on Margot's home computer. All of the files on the external drive and the unencrypted Mikayla files on Margot's home computer matched, and that was what had troubled Luanne.
She could completely understand Margot encrypting the files on the external hard drive. She had probably stored it somewhere besides her home, and not encrypting the files would have been a foolish risk if they had been kept in a place where others could conceivably have access to that external hard drive. But Margot's computer had been in her house, unconnected to the Internet or a wireless network, with its own password and encryption limiting anyone's access. Once past the initial password to log into Windows, Margot obviously hadn't felt any need to encrypt her blackmail files on Mikayla further.
So what the hell had she taken the time not only to encrypt, but to hide in an invisible file?
That was what had kept Luanne working on that block of encrypted files for the last thirteen hours, first trying Margot's passwords to try and break the encryption. When that had failed, she had begun trying passwords based on Margot's personal information that a typical user might use. After that had failed, she had begun using some of the toolbox programs she had acquired through her job back in Tennessee with the Department of Energy—and given that her job was computer network security analyst for one of the United States' premier nuclear research facilities and all that entailed, she had quite a frightening toolbox of programs indeed.
As she called back up the window for one of her nastier can opener programs she had left running for the last few hours, she noted that it seemed to have stopped after just a few hours. Annoyed, she nearly clicked the button to restart the program before she realized why it had stopped. It had broken the encryption.
Luanne examined the newly discovered password key, nearly laughing out loud at how simple it had been. "QueenMargot," she said to herself. "Seriously? I mean, you go to all the trouble of hiding and encrypting this shit, just to use an eleven-character letters-only code. You don't deserve to get ten million dollars, you moron."
She was still marveling at the dichotomy between Margot's precautions and her rudimentary password when she clicked on the first file, simply named "Vid01." It was lengthy at just over 300Mb, and she took a quick glance to see that there were several more video files, around a dozen, as well as probably twice that many JPG and RAW image files.
"Jen Kittrell, if this is a webcam video of Margot masturbating, I swear I'll drive to your house and throw this computer through your bedroom window," Luanne swore to herself. She sighed and double-clicked the file, launching her KMPlayer to play the file.
It took Luanne a few seconds to process what she saw as the video played. It took significantly longer for her to grasp just exactly what the images she was watching meant, but when she did make the connection, she felt her heart nearly stop. "Oh sweet Jesus," she said with a voice so faint that it surprised her to hear it. She watched for another minute before clicking the playback bar at the bottom of the player, advancing the video forward by several minutes, then doing it again. With less than a minute remaining in the video, she had seen enough.
Her skin was crawling as she tried to close the media player program. She was trembling so badly that it took three attempts to click the small X in the upper right corner; when the video disappeared, she was shivering. It took a minute for her to compose herself before she picked up her cell phone. She didn't trust herself to remember Jen's number at this point, so she called up her recent calls list and scrolled down to select it from them. She numbly hit the Send button, then she held the phone to her ear as she waited for Jen to pick up.
After three rings, a sleepy voice answered, "Who the fu—"
"Jen, it's Luanne," Luanne said quickly, interrupting a potentially impressive tirade. She ran her free hand over her sweating forehead, idly wiping the perspiration on her bathrobe. "I found some hidden files on that computer from today," she said, not wanting to be too specific over the phone. " I finally cracked the encryption on them a few minutes ago."
"Okay..." Jen said slowly with a poorly suppressed yawn. "Jesus, Luanne, it's nearly three in the morning!"
Luanne swallowed, still slightly in shock. "Yeah, I know," she replied, unable to get the images she had just watched out of her mind. Her eyes flickered back to the many files yet to be examined, and she shuddered again involuntarily.
"Jen, this shit just got serious."
Author's Afterword: Again, I'm not giving up on this story. Never have, never will. But things just keep getting more bizarre in real life. I'm doing my best, I promise. I'm thinking that there'll be two more chapters in this story; however, I like the number 33 more than I do 32, so I might try to find a way to make it three more chapters. I've already got the basic storyline for the next story in my series going, but I'm trying to not think too much about it just yet until this mammoth story is all wrapped up. As always, I'll post the next chapter as soon as possible. Having three daughters playing soccer in different age groups at different fields and different times makes for a really busy Saturday, in case you were wondering. Add two practices a week for each of them, with one Monday and Thursday, a second Tuesday and Friday, and the third Tuesday and Thursday, and you've got a week that's pretty much spoken for. Oh, and the practices are all at different fields, too. Yeah, we've been doing the soccer moms thing. It's a huge time drain, but we both love watching them play and exercise.
Thanks for reading, and I'll see you soon!
Jo