"Well, don't you look contented." Sammy lifted an eyelid, as his vision gradually cleared up to find a dark figure peering down at him. The former music director hummed as he struggled to rearrange his limbs into a sitting position. He blinked once, twice, before hurriedly standing up in shock.
"Susie!" For it was none other than Alice Angel's voice actress who was standing before him. She was a sight for sore eyes, and Sammy suddenly felt self-conscious. Dressed in very unprofessional pants, covered in dirt, sleeves rolled up and his hair... Alice, no Susie made a slight giggle as he hurriedly wiped his hands on his pants, only to remember that he was making them even dirtier by doing so.
"Sammy, do you want to go get some coffee? My treat?" Sammy could only let out a weak protest as the woman dragged him off the grassy knoll that he had decided to lie in. It wasn't too cold, especially under the sun, and the grass was clean in some places. Sammy didn't like going outdoors, especially with his current appearance. But he appreciated the fact that he could even step outside, rather than being imprisoned indoors. The sky was blue, the sun had warmed the ambient temperature to a point where it was nice to laze in, and the smell of the grass and the shrubbery had encouraged Sammy to take a chance in doing something that he had never imagined himself ever partaking-sleeping on the grass.
And he had been caught by his former colleague. Embarassing, that. Susie had laughter lines in the corners of her eyes and her smile was glorious in its beauty. Unlike him, age looked good on her, made her seemed more dignified. More respectable than some hobo lying on the grass with duffed up cap and all.
Yet again, he felt like burying his head in the sand as Susie and he stumbled into a cafe, one with iron-wrought chairs and fine tablecloth. It was less crowded than the ones that Jeanne favored, but still, there were people staring at the two of them as Susie ordered a coffee. Sammy hurriedly declined her offer, instead picking some warm water, on the house.
"So..." Susie eyed him with a prying glance, "How have you been?" Without letting Sammy to respond, she started telling Sammy about her week. Her glee in getting a job as a speech and drama teacher in a nearby preschool. Reconnecting with her friends, sharing drinks with her family. Sammy answered about the weird hijinks that Stephen and Jeanne got up to. Or how Jeanne and her latest boyfriend were testing grounds right in front of Henry, who did not need to see young love, and was very much happy to leave it aside. Susie had burst into laughter as Sammy finished off with the punchline-that Roy had admired Henry's work, but was too shy to say it, and had ended up offending the older animator without realising it.
"Good grief!" Susie curled a stray hair around her ear, dimples showing as she flashed a grin with those sensuous lips. "And he didn't know it at all?" Sammy had gradually felt more comfortable talking to the voice actress, and without thinking, he grasped her hand.
As quick as a flash, Susie pulled it away from him, face turning white. She caught herself halfway, and put it down. Sammy felt that he was responsible for the mood turning abruptly sour, but he couldn't figure out why it had done so. The two stared down, with Sammy peeking every once in a while.
"Sorry, it's not you." Susie broke the awkward silence, turning away. "It's just...oh I just wanted to say something to someone who actually knows..."
"I think that's true of me as well." Sammy offered, mind running to the one thing that the two had carefully avoided in their conversation.
Joey Drew Studios. The man himself was still undergoing psychiatric evaluation, and Sammy had rejected any knowledge of it when Henry had brought it up. He had done the metaphorical equivalent of putting his fingers in his ears, unwilling to hear more on the subject. But Sammy knew that it had to come up one way or another. After all, the police had to ask questions.
"I..." Susie lowered her eyes, cherry lips frowning in dismay, "I just said I couldn't remember what had happened there. Just that I was invited, and the next thing that happened was that I woke up in front of the studio with months in between and a large gap in between." She fidged, fingers twitching as she wanted to emote her frustration but was too scared to. "But...sometimes I just don't want to go up the elevator. Too narrow space, not enough room to breath..." She hissed abruptly, causing the hair at the back of Sammy's neck to stand. "Oh, I hate him. I hate how I'm so, so afraid to do anything. I HATE JOEY DREW!"
The vehemence of her shout drew the eyes of those surrounding their table, but Susie easily met the glares, and the tables around them drew back into the usual murmur of voices.
"The sad part was," Susie continued, " that I trusted him in the first place. I was so happy to see his letter again, I didn't question why he did it...Or why he even wanted to see us again after the studio went bust. But I lost months and the sad fact is that I can remember some parts of what he did to me." There was something wriggling within his chest, something that was hesitant and firm, fluttering in between the two extremes of fear and anger. Sammy wanted it to disappear, but he recognized that feeling. It was the same as the hours before seeing the shrink for the first time. Or when he looked at himself in the mirror right after the fateful haircut.
"I think we all lost part of ourselves." He began, trying to form words as elegant as the songs he used to write. It was so difficult when parsing the conflicting feelings he felt. Susie's face fell, and Sammy wanted to apologise, but Susie raised a hand, finger placed over his lips.
"He ruined you too." Susie's eyes glinted with tears. Sammy hesitantly began to nod, but was flummoxed when Susie seized him with both hands.
"Then we can both hate him together!" She cheered up, face shining, and Sammy suddenly recalled why he liked Susie so much. Susie Campbell was forthright and determined to prove herself, and Sammy loved her for that.
"Sammy?" Lost in his own thoughts, Sammy looked up. Like rose-coloured lenses lifted from his eyes, he could find the dark eyebags, and the way her fingers tensed. As strong as Susie might want to project to others, she still wanted reassurance, someone to share the pain with.
"I hate him too." Sammy could feel the tips of his mouth rise. "But can we not shout? People are watching."
"Well let them!" Susie's delight was reflected in her eyes, "Not as if we have anything to be afraid of!"
"A banjo?" Jeanne frowned as she glanced at his request. "Why would anyone want to use a banjo for composing? It's not flexible, and it sounds old."
"Old? Old? " Sammy could hardly believe his ears. Was she actually doubting his abilities? Or the instrument's capabilities, but that was pretty much the same thing. After all, any instrument relied on its musician for its song to be heard.
"Oh come on!" Jeanne wrinkled her nose as she pointed at the catalogue. "We hear bands, and I mean pop, rock and all that jazz! Who uses a banjo, except for country music?" And with that she left, striding away on her high heels.
"Wow," Stephen whispered once she was out of sight, "She really disapproves of it, huh?"
"Oh really?" There was something warm and hot burning in the back of his throat as Sammy stared at his catalogue. "Stephen?"
"Yes sir!" His co-worker hurriedly yelped as the catalogue was thrust into his chest. Oh yes, Sammy could recognize the newest emotion to cross his mind and fill him with desire.
"Can you get a banjo? Just any banjo, I can do the tuning and restringing myself." He turned on his heel, hands tightening around his pen. He had some serious composing to do. With banjos, oh yes; the tune that was perfect for the 'loathsome' banjo was ringing in his head right now.
"Uhm, what are you..." Stephen trailed off, but Sammy was too deep in his thoughts to care.
"You did it." Jeanne wore the most absolutely gormless expression that Sammy could have expected from her. She glanced at the tape she held with her fine, nimble fingers, before piercing him with the force of her glare. Sammy, on the other hand, was smug. And why shouldn't he? He did it.
"You actually composed an ear worm with a bloody banjo. Of course. " She muttered to herself, before breaking out into humming. "And it actually works."
"Of course it did work. What do you think I was doing in the thirties?" Sammy rebutted. He was prouder than ever, especially seeing the impressed looks on the client's face. He had spent a night arranging the tune in his head, trying to make the banjo not just the main instrument, but the center piece of the tune itself. The song could not be written with a different instrument; only the banjo made the resonance, the highly catching twinge that made every jingle repetitive. In other words, the perfect advertisement tune.
"I like it!" The client showed his approval. Jeanne hurriedly plastered a working smile onto her face, making small talk as she led the client to the work office. At the sight of Jeanne's retreating back, Sammy smirked, basking in Stephen's awe. That showed her. Old fashioned indeed!
A/N: Spite is very good for creativity. Also, fluff, to lighten up the angst that Sammy's been experiencing for a while.