Girl, Put Your Records On
Mercedes set her things up in the bathroom, while Maurice peeked from the doorway. She turned and they stared at each other before he ran off and she sighed. In her head, she heard Invader Zim's voice say, "That HORRIBLE monkey!" And she laughed about it. "Hey, Sam! How about an Invader Zim marathon later?" She called out.
"Score!" He cheered from his workspace. Mercedes was officially leaving a few essentials at his place, which she had bought specifically to leave at his place. Before, she would leave things if she knew she would be back the next night, but if things didn't turn out that way, she had to come over to get her stuff or go without that night. Sometimes, she simply forgot stuff there and spent half of her morning prep time wondering what she did with her toothbrush or whatever. Now, she would have stuff here, so that she didn't even have to worry about it.
Sam was working on the material that he would be bringing with him in a couple of months to the event that Jeremiah had invited them to, in most of his free time; but he didn't mind Mercedes being around while he worked. He said hearing her in other rooms singing or being terrorized by Maurice helped him to work. She didn't find that part about Maurice comical. That monkey was something else always stalking her around the apartment when he was out of his cage, and occasionally digging through her belongings. Now, he seemed to be spying on her, trying to figure out what the hell she was doing. "Sam! Maurice keeps coming in here and staring at me! I think he's plotting something!" She called out when the monkey passed the bathroom again.
"He's always like that when changes are being made around here. Ignore him, Babe," Sam called out. She sighed and finished up in the bathroom. Next, she put away some panties and lingerie into a drawer that Sam emptied out for her. She already had a few tanks and boy shorts that she had left behind and he had washed for her.
"Your place looks a mess!" She told him as she entered the room. "I guess that I can straighten up around here while you work."
"That's not necessary, Mermaid. I'll clean up, soon." Sam told her.
"You said that a few days ago. You have to work on your material for the convention; I understand. I know how to tidy up. I'll do that while you work and if you aren't done by the time that I am, you can stop and take a nookie break."
"What's this, you say? It's t9ime for nookie, already?" He asked, setting his pencil down.
"I said after I clean up around here, if you aren't done working for the day…" He had already advanced on her and was lifting her up with her legs wrapping around him. "Sam…"
"Hmmm?" He asked, silencing her with kisses as he took her to the couch.
"This place is filthy. You aren't sexing me up nor down in here, as long as it looks like this," she said, wriggling from him. Sam pouted, but quickly began to try to clean up. She put a hand on her hip. "Seriously? That's all it takes to actually get you to clean up?" She asked.
"If I let you do it by yourself, it'll take longer. You're the one bribing me with your favorite pancakes!" He defended.
"I wasn't bribing you!" She said back, helping him to clean things up. "How do you feel about pizza tonight?" She asked.
"No can do, for me. I have to get back to a stricter diet. Boss told me that I have noticeable flab," he said, with a frown.
"Noticeable flab? Does she think that anybody is going to be looking at that when you're shaking your junk?" She asked.
"Obviously. I know that they probably won't, but these abs do pay my bills, so I should look after them," he replied.
"Maybe after the convention, other opportunities will open up for you," Mercedes said, with a bit of sorrow in her tone.
"Yeah – I'm hoping so. That's my motivation for how hard I've been working." He pulled her close to him and looked in her eyes, "I want something better, for us… you you," he told her and gave her a kiss. "I know that it doesn't bother you, but it's started to bother me. I'm not as comfortable doing it anymore."
"I support whatever you decide to do," she commented. "So, some fish or chicken?"
"I've got both in the kitchen, but if you don't feel like cooking, I can order something and pick it up," he said.
"I'll cook tomorrow," she promised.
"We've gotten pretty comfortable with just doing regular stuff at home together. I think we do it and enjoy it more than stuff out there… You… could move in, you know…" Sam suggested. When her eyes widened and she looked at him, he explained, "It would help out with the money issues that have come up since the semester started and we practically live together, now. I mean – you don't have to. I'm just saying, that if you want to, the opportunity is here." He booped her across the nose and gave her a crooked smile.
Mercedes, Santana and Sugar sorted through the instrumental CDs, while Santana talked, "Even if it doesn't go anywhere, why not give it another shot? People get famous from being online all of the time. And if you have me there to point out all the fault in the industry for hating on women who aren't boxed beauties and on the fact that if you were white, they would have given you a el a long time ago, you might be able to get the underground attention that you need AND even appeal to the hipsters."
"Why would I be trying to appeal to the hipsters?" Mercedes asked.
"I don't know. Aren't they supposed to be the cool people of today, or something?" Santana asked. "I don't keep up with it. I don't even think that I actually know what a hipster is, exactly."
Sugar commented, "You can appeal to the gays. Sing a song about acceptance and stuff and you'll become the spokesperson and all the straight little white girls will rally around you, on behalf of the gays."
Santana snickered, "Pop music in a nutshell."
"I happen to know a thing or two about this. Hello! I am the face of popular," Sugar said. "Nothing is considered great unless I say so… or someone like me. You have the talent, Mercedes. You just need to be properly marketed." Sugar took a CD out of Mercedes' hand and shook her head, "You can't do R&B. You have to, have to, have to come out into the world of pop, first and kiss some studio ass before you do what it is that you love."
"Guys… I just want to see where my real talent can take me. I want to not have to worry about whether or not I have to go without the Internet for a couple of months, to make sure that my necessary bills are paid. I don't want my mom bringing me groceries that I hate, because she knows that I can't afford food, because of my rent. I don't want Sam to pick up extra shifts so I can have gas in my car."
"I thought that Sam has been pretty much taking care of your food and luxuries lately, anyway. I mean, if he isn't, what exactly is his purpose?" Sugar asked.
"He has been, but it isn't his responsibility to do that. The main reason he's worked at the club is because he can't sustain himself on the comics, alone. And now, he's worrying about me. With me back in school, my hours shift to part time and thus, the struggle begins. Summer was good, but this is becoming a bit much. I can't ask him to be there for me, like he's been. He has his own stuff to do," Mercedes said.
Santana commented, "You're welcome to move in with Britt and I when your lease at your apartment is up. It'll help you save some money and we have the room for it."
"Oh my God! We should totally get a Troubletones pad!" Sugar cheered. "The four of us can stay at a dwelling of my choosing. I'll send Artie to Sam's and whenever we need some couples time, Artie can come over and you can go to Sam's!" She went on. Santana simply gave her one of her infamous 'Whatever, bitch' faces and turned to the CDs again.
"Actually, I've been thinking about moving in with Sam," Mercedes admitted. Now, Sugar and Santana both turned to look at her, hard. "It wouldn't be a long term arrangement, but we're both at each other's places right now, as is. This way, less rent and utilities, more cash…"
"Less freedom, more having to be around each other," Sugar commented.
"Less common sense, more silly lovesick nonsense," Santana added.
"See, this is why I try not to tell you two anything. You both live with your significant others," Mercedes said.
Santana scoffed and asked, "Did you just compare your summer fling to the long term love that I have had with my best friend and had for years before we ever moved in together? Or, did you compare Sugar and Artie's albeit dysfunctional, long time on again off again, maybe, maybe not that they're both hella comfortable with and were that way for years before ever moving together to you rushing in like a fool with the first guy that you dropped your panties for?"
"Bitch," Mercedes said and shook her head, turning away.
"Am I lying?" Santana asked.
Sugar said, softer, "Mercedes, I think that what Santana is trying to say is that it might be a bit soon for you and Sam to be going into that. You two have only really known each other for a few months. It takes some time before people will peel off layers of themselves and get down to the stuff that you'll have to deal with on a daily basis if you spend a lot of time around their home front."
"When the two of you are struggling college students with a really good solution to some of your cash problems, come back and see me," Mercedes said.
"I've already done that!" Santana snapped. "I did it and it was pretty shitty. But I spent that time away from Britt, because I knew better and I knew that it would only hurt our relationship if we kept trying to make it into some kind of damned fairy tale. Life isn't that. We have something remarkable, right now, but if I had lived with Brittany during my poor woman's woes, we probably wouldn't even be friends, right now. If that's what the hell you want for you and Fishy McGuire, more power to you!" Santana stormed off towards another section of music.
Sugar said, "Well, if you're going to move in with Sam, you might need more space. His place is kinda only meant for one person, I think."
"It's not a long term thing," Mercedes said. "My current lease ends at the end of September and he's mentioned that I can stay with him and have a chance to save up for a new car. Mine is crap, as everyone knows."
"And… after you get a new car, then you'll magically have enough money to live on your own again?" Sugar asked, confused.
"No. By that time, I'm hoping that Sam's comics have brought him some luck and if not," she lifted her fistful of CDs, "I'm shooting for the stars, again."
Sugar said, "Well, I'm happy for you, whatever you decide. I just want to see you be sunshine. Santana just wants the best for you, too. I think she's just worried that you maybe place too much stock in Sam. I think that if she has more time to get to know him, she'll come around."
"I'm not here for her coming around. Sam is my guy and she is my friend. She's going to have to accept that unless he's done something to hurt me or to hurt her, she doesn't have the right to go into bitch mode on or about him." She headed for the counter and Santana came up now, too.
They looked at each other and Mercedes rolled her eyes. Santana stifled a chuckle and folded her arms. "I will never think that this is a good idea, so long as I don't see any proof of that, but it's not my place. But, I am gonna continue to watch him and the moment he fucks up, I'm stepping in."
"Okay," Mercedes said and paid for her product. She didn't have time to be going back and forth with Santana today. Instead, she completely changed the subject. "I think that I'm going to go with some Adele for the first video."
Santana suggested, "You may want to upload several of them, different artists and different genres. Of course the crew is going to like and share them, through all of the avenues. I'm going to make my rant video about how you got the shaft when you were a backup singer and how they fucked up letting you go. That'll make my followers interested in checking you out. You can guest on Fondue for Two."
"She still does that?" Mercedes asked.
Sugar gasped and asked, "You mean, you don't watch it?"
"The Glee club director at McKinley has called me in to help his students with some stuff. I figure that I can bring you along and you can help them with voice training… That should put you on the radar of the high school kids in this area and maybe they'll spread you around some to their social networking folks."
"I'll have you do a few demos of music that some of the girls at the gym have for routines, so that they'll get familiar with you, too," Sugar said.
Santana smirked and locked her arm into Mercedes,' "Let's make your ass a star, now."
Mercedes recorded videos of her singing Together Again by Janet Jackson, Still I Rise by Yolanda Adams, On the Radio by Donna Summer, Nobody's Supposed to Be Here by Deborah Cox, Dangerously in Love by Beyonce, and Someone Like You by Adele, before she felt like she was tired of singing. She sighed and wondered if any of them were good enough to upload, and if so, which ones? She looked through her list of songs to see what else she might sing – because something else might be better. I Need You by Jazmine Sullivan, At Your Best (You Are Love) by Aaliyah (well, by the Isley Brothers, but she would sing it more in the fashion of Aaliyah)…
Her phone buzzed and she saw that it was Sam texting that he was on his way over. She started to put her things away when she heard a knock and opened the door. "Hey!" He said, brandishing his guitar. "Thought that I would give you another genre that you might not have gone for."
"Who told you?" She asked.
"Sugar. You know – you can stop asking that when I know things that I maybe shouldn't. It's almost always going to be Sugar. Anyway. I know you've got your pop covered, your R&B, your oldies, but I'll bet that you haven't sang one country song and I know you probably know one or two. I probably know how to play them on my guitar."
"I know Rosemary's Granddaughter. Well… I know the rhythm. I'd have to look up the lyrics. I only know bits and pieces."
"That's a pretty good one. I can play it. You know I Hope You Dance?"
"Yeah. From a Tyler Perry movie," she said.
"Did you know that before Whitney redesigned and immortalized I Will Always Love You, IT was a country song, too?" He asked.
"Of course. I am a pro at Whitney trivia," she said and led him to the table. "Want to give me honest critiques on some of the stuff that I have so far?" She wondered.
"Sure," he said and set his guitar on the table.
"I'm gonna go make some tea," she told him. Sam sat down and began to play the videos. She came back to see him intently watching her sing Nobody's Supposed to Be Here. He stopped it when she entered and looked up at her with damp eyes.
"You. Are. Spectacular." He shook his head. "I hope you don't mind, I've started uploading all of these."
"WHAT?" she asked. "I haven't polished them up or anything!" She fussed.
"They're perfect, Mermaid. You're going to be a hit, Baby. You wanna practice the country stuff?" He asked.
"I don't do much practicing," she told him.
"What do you mean?" He wondered.
She smiled and shrugged. "I don't do much practicing. I sing songs with emotion…" She shrugged again.
"Like that night of our first date. Underneath the Stars and How Will I Know – free of flaw, off the cuff," he remembered.
"Yep," she said. "I plan on getting more serious about practicing, especially since I'm pretty out of practice, aside from singing in the choir, at church. But, get the camera ready. We'll do I Hope You Dance, then the tea should be ready. I'll have some tea and look up the lyrics for Who I Am, then – I might need to practice it a time or two before we record it. After that, you can maybe help me figure out what songs I'm going to post next week."
"Heroes themed stuff," he said. "That way, I can get away with posting it on my different networking sites."
"Heroes themed stuff… like… We Don't Need Another Hero?"
"Awesome! I didn't even think about that one! I was thinking about Bowie, Nickleback, Holding out for a Hero."
"White stuff," she said. "I mean – maybe I can." She shrugged. "I definitely know I can do Bonnie Tyler. Tina's already been decided. I'm going to go with Mariah's Hero, as opposed to Bowie. I just don't think that's my field," she told him.
"Make it your field," he told her. "You can sing anything. It doesn't necessarily have to be done just like it always was. Take it and make it your own."
"Hero stuff, huh?" she said and smirked to herself. "You and your heroes," she commented.
"What?"
"It's cute."
"How cute?" He wondered, with a wink.
"Cute enough," she told him.
"I don't know if I wanna be cute tonight. I think I wanna be hot." Sam began to play his guitar and stood up while she watched him curiously. He smiled, briefly, then went into his serenade, "Would you dance, if I asked you to dance? Would you run and never look back? Would you cry, if you saw me crying? Would you save my soul tonight?" After Sam sang Hero by Enrique Inglesias, it was a wrap. Mercedes' legs found themselves just wanting to spread and she declared video time over. It was time to hit the bedroom…
As September came to an end, Mercedes was prepared to move in with Sam. She hadn't gotten around to telling her mother (because she didn't feel like dealing with the backlash), and when she got everything that she knew she wanted to keep for sure into Sam's place, she decided to simply sell everything that she could do without. As the sale came to a close, she gave away everything left and made her way to Sam's truck.
They settled in the living room, both tired and sore from moving things. All of their friends had gone on and there they were, on the couch. "I'm gonna check to see how many hits you got on your most recent videos," Sam said, but he didn't make an effort to move and neither did she. "Are we going to do some more recording this week?" He asked.
"No. I just want to get used to things and relax before the convention," she said. "Are you finished preparing for that? You've been dedicating a lot of time to my singing videos."
"I know how to multitask, Babe. It's all in the bag." He got up and went to check on the videos, finally, as she simply sat down and looked over at the remote. If she stretched a little, it might be within her reach, but… nope... that was asking too much just to watch TV. "Oh my God, Mermaid!" Sam called out.
"What?" She asked.
"There's a producer dude in my inbox asking me for contact info for you," Sam said.
"Huh?" She asked, jumping up and rushing to the computer.
Sam read, "I am sending you this message, in regards to making contact with the sensational singer Mercedes Jones, whose singing videos I came across on your site…" Mercedes read the rest of the message, along with Sam, "Am interested in offering Miss Jones an opportunity to sing in a stage performance and an opportunity to sing on the soundtrack of an upcoming film…"
"Oh my God!" She said. Then shrieked, "Oh my God!" Sam's arms wrapped around her and she fell onto his lap, staring at the screen. "Is this real?"
"He has a link to his website. You can contact him and see," Sam said, squeezing her hips as she leaned forward to click on the link. Sam kissed her neck, right under her ear and told her, "I knew it would happen, Baby. I told you."
"Nothing's happened yet, now," she reminded him.
"It doesn't matter. It will. When you get famous, try not to forget that I believed in you," he teased.
"Ok, I guess I'll try not to forget that whatever happens, I have you to thank." She turned to give him a long, passionate kiss and to rub her nose against his.