A/N: Thanks for the reviews/alerts/whatever! Your input makes me soooooo happy :D
Chapter 5: First Day on the Job
Somehow, Mercedes Griffin had managed to convince a sleepy Scarlett into joining her for an end-of-summer brunch. Though Scarlett secretly thought that brunch was for childless couples and the elderly, she agreed to it after about thirty minutes of whining. In the end, a table had been reserved for them at the Griddle Café.
Lucy swallowed a piece of streusel doused in powdered sugar. Scarlett had woken her up from a deep sleep that morning and begged her to come to brunch with her and her friend Mercedes. Lucy really had absolutely no desire to go, but the guilt of Scarlett totaling her guitar was eating Scarlett alive. The least Lucy could do was enjoy the free food.
"Man, I love it here," Mercedes trilled, twirling her fork between her fingers, "I remember everything from the first time I came here." Mercedes glanced around at the rusty brick walls of the restaurant and pointed at Scarlett with her syrup-covered fork. "I certainly remember you not having such nasty burns. Have you been experimenting with suntan oil again?"
Scarlett huffed, pulling her sleeves down self-consciously. The sunburn had already begun to fade, but the blistering was horrible. She'd literally stripped a whole layer of skin off that morning. "Lucy, would you care to explain?"
"She fell asleep on her stomach by the pool last night," Lucy cackled, covering her mouth. "She never reapplied sunscreen and Logan ended up having to cover her back in sunburn cream. She had to sleep-face down in her bed." Lucy paused, frowning. "You know Logan, right?"
Mercedes smiled. "Don't insult me. I dated that kid for a few minutes."
Lucy's eyebrows knitted together. "You dated Logan?"
"What she did with Logan doesn't count as dating," Scarlett laughed, rolling her eyes up to the rafters. "A few years ago, she just declared Logan her boyfriend. A few minutes later, Mercedes moved on. Simple as that."
"I never would have pictured someone like you with Logan," Lucy admitted. She absentmindedly ran her hand through her red-streaked and slightly damp strands. She hadn't had the time to blow-dry after her rushed shower. "I guess I don't know Logan as well as I thought."
Mercedes' eyes suddenly lit up and she grinned wickedly. "You want to know an even stranger couple? Last summer, Logan and—"
Scarlett's stomach sank. She knew the topic would have come up sooner or later, but she'd been counting on the latter. "Mercedes, don't you dare," Scarlett warned hurriedly, "Or I swear, you'll never see me again." Mercedes just stuck out her tongue.
"Honey, you wouldn't last two days without me," Mercedes pointed out in an extremely Southern accent. Then she turned to Lucy. "Are ready to hear some dirt of the Scarlett variety?"—Mercedes put her hands on Lucy's shoulders, pausing dramatically—"Last summer, Logan and Scarlett dated."
Lucy's jaw dropped like it was hot. Her burnt-honey-colored eyes widened tot the size of saucers. "Seriously?"
Mercedes nodded, grinning proudly, while Scarlett started banging her head on the table in slow, agonizing rhythm. Lucy smiled, amused by the scene. "No joke," Mercedes replied.
Lucy's eyebrows spiked. "How did I not know this? Wasn't it publicized?" Scarlett shook her head from side to side, staring down at her shiny, black manicure. She was suddenly feeling depressed.
"They dated while on tour together," Mercedes blabbed, winding a lock of honey-blond hair around her finger. "They were gonna go public with their relationship, but—"
"Wait…weren't Logan and Camille together then?"
Mercedes shot her an annoyed glance. "I was getting to that. No, they were not. Anyways, near the end of the tour, Camille and a bunch of other people from the Palm Woods showed up…"
Scarlett tuned out the rest of the story. Her eyes had started stinging when Mercedes had brought up the Logan subject. Now they burned. Scarlett heard Lucy start chuckling and looked up, irritated.
"What's so funny?" she snapped.
"It's just…" Lucy began, giggling, "I can't imagine Logan dating you and then cheating on you. You're totally out of his league."
Scarlett softened, smiling a little. "Ya think?"
Lucy popped a piece of mandarin into her mouth. "Well, yeah," she said, like it was obvious. "I mean, he was probably even dorkier last year and at the time, you were Miss Sexiest Woman Alive." Scarlett made a face, nearly choking on her sausage.
Mercedes had a curious look on her face. "Lucy, didn't you say that Logan rubbed sunburn cream on her back yesterday?"
Lucy nodded, confused by the question. Scarlett groaned, already knowing where the conversation was headed.
Mercedes locked eyes with Scarlett. "All over your back?"
Scarlett wrinkled her pert little nose. Lucy burst into loud laughter, drawing the eyes of other restaurant-goers to their table.
"God, Mercedes, you're such a perv," Scarlett muttered, pushing around what was left of her meal with her butter knife. The insult ricocheted off of Mercedes' untouchable ego.
"Were you wearing the swimsuit I picked out?" Mercedes asked eagerly, "The barely-there one?" Scarlett nodded, wishing she hadn't. Mercedes wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. "Scarlett and Logan action…"
"It wasn't that kind of massage!"
"It is when you're wearing that bikini!"
Scarlett head dropped into her hands and a muffled moan left her mouth. "Can we please stop talking about this? I don't like him anymore, okay? Besides, he and Camille are cute together." Even as she said that, her heart throbbed.
Right then, an attendee holding a platter carrying three identical mimosas approached their table. "Hey, Mercedes," he greeted cheerfully, setting the drink down. "Free Bottomless Mimosas, compliments of, well, me."
The man looked thirtysomething, with his short, fiery red haircut and twinkling green eyes. A nametag that read Tony W. was clipped to his shirt.
Mercedes pecked the young employee lightly on the cheek. "Aw, you're so sweet! Thanks a bunch, Tony." Scarlett smiled, relieved about the subject change.
"No trouble at all." He walked away as swiftly as he had come, retreating back behind the counter.
Lucy watched the whole exchange, feeling strangely comfortable. Popular people like Mercedes and trendy places like the Griddle Café weren't exactly her scene, but she kind of liked it. She looked away from Tony and returned her eyes to the table.
Scarlett was downing her mimosa from the massive champagne flute in her hand. Lucy's relaxed expression morphed into an alarmed one.
"Should she be drinking?" Lucy exclaimed, snatching the drink from Scarlett. The sunny yellow liquid sloshed around in its glass. "Is this non-alcoholic?" Scarlett bit down on her lower lip, averting her eyes.
"It's not that big a deal," Mercedes sighed, mimosa in hand. "You and I are both twenty and Scarlett will be eighteen next month. We're all adults here, drinking in moderation."
"Well, I guess I'm not much of a morning drinker," Lucy claimed, shrugging. She pushed her drink away to the middle of the table and sank into her chair. "So Scarlett, when will you start recording at Rocque Records?"
That was still a mystery to Scarlett herself. She was still on the fence about staying in Los Angeles. She missed the brash and fast-paced New York. The lemonade tanginess of California didn't suit her at all. There were plenty of people in Cali that she didn't want to deal with either…
"I'm not sure," Scarlett confessed, weaving her straw between the blocks of ice floating in her drink. "I'll be going there tomorrow to talk business. Image, genre, you know, stuff like that." Mercedes was checking her rhinestone-encrusted phone for the time.
Mercedes stood up, pushing her chair into the table. The legs of the chair made an awful dragging noise as they slid across the ground. "I think it's time we start going. Next stop: shopping central!" Mercedes slapped a bill down on the table and danced her way out of the restaurant.
When Mercedes turned her back, Lucy made a big show of falling over and making gagging noises at the prospect of shopping. Scarlett snickered quietly, trying hard not to cause a scene.
"Let's go," Scarlett chuckled, pulling Lucy off of the ground. "I'll protect you from the big bad UGG boots."
BTRBTRBTRBTRBTR
"Frick, frick, frick!" It was Monday, Scarlett's first day at Rocque Records, and for some reason, her defective alarm clock had never gone off. She certainly wasn't a heavy sleeper, being that she barely slept at all, but as always, the universe was against her.
Scarlett hopped into the kitchen, zipping up the back of her leather boot. Kendall had called her cell phone a minute ago, wondering where she was. He and his band mates were already getting into the limo Kelly had sent.
Lucy was calmly spooning Lucky Charms into her mouth when Scarlett came into the kitchen. She looked completely and utterly frazzled. "Why didn't you wake me?" she sighed, trying hard to keep her cool. Her uber-green eyes glowed menacingly.
Lucy stared dumbly. "Isn't that what the alarm is for?" she asked through a mouthful of marshmallow. Scarlett bit down hard on her tongue to keep from cursing. She yanked open one of the kitchen cabinets, stuffing a package of Fruit Smackers into the tote hanging from her shoulder. "Do you have to go now?"
"If I didn't have to go now, would I look like this?" Scarlett motioned to her bare face and sloppily-put-together outfit. Lucy raised her eyebrows and went back to eating her cereal. "I'll see you later."
Scarlett fled from the apartment. She hadn't had time to shower or put on makeup. All she could do was slide on a pair of sunglasses, gargle a cup of orange juice, and slick her underarms with deodorant. It was a wonder she even had time to spritz on her Chanel No. 5.
Scarlett ran through the lobby, ducking when a guy with surfboard tucked under his bicep turned her way. Unfortunately, she hadn't been paying attention to the girls standing in front of her. Scarlett collided with a blonde girl, sending her into two other teenagers.
"Crap!" Scarlett blurted, running her fingers through her messy hair frantically. "I'm so sorry." Her tote slid off of her shoulder and down to her elbow.
Scarlett cringed when she realized who she had bumped into. Blonde Jennifer and her following stared at her with disdain. "Nice outfit," Blonde Jennifer chuckled. "Where did the pants go?"
Scarlett had only had the time to grab the clothes that had been lying on her mattress, which were a fuzzy, oversized sweater with slashed shoulders and rust-colored cowboy boots that barely covered her ankles. She had to pull on the bottom of the sweater to cover her tall frame.
"And what's with the shades?" Dark-haired Jennifer added. "Are you hiding a hangover?" Curly-haired Jennifer nudged her, not bothering to hide her giggles.
"I really don't have time for this," Scarlett grumbled, breaking though the human chain the Jennifers had formed. "Unlike you, I don't celebrate Bitch-fest." The Jennifers watched her trudge away, jaws hanging.
"Aren't you gonna say something back to her?" Curly-haired asked. "She just called us bee-yotches. And to our faces!" Blond Jennifer, annoyed, shook her head.
"She's not worth it," she said, loud enough for Scarlett to hear.
Scarlett rolled her eyes behind her sunglasses and pushed the exit door open. The limo was waiting in the parking lot, engine running; Kelly was leaned up against one of the tinted windows. Her head rose, revealing an extremely weary expression. She heaved a sigh of relief when she registered Scarlett's presence.
"Where have you been?" Kelly asked in exasperation, "We're almost ten minutes late." Scarlett didn't reply, simply pulling her hair into a less-messy bun. Kelly tapped the toe of her pumps as she waited for an explanation.
"My alarm didn't go off," Scarlett grumbled, ducking her head. A stray black strand of hair fell in front of her face.
Kelly pressed her eyes shut and regained her calm. "Just make sure it goes off next time, capiche?" Kelly's eyes dropped to the rips in Scarlett's sparkly sweater. "And maybe wear something more…presentable."
"Yeah, sure…" Kelly pulled open the limo door, revealing four handsome boys known as Big Time Rush. James and Carlos were wide awake and caffeinated, Kendall was, well, Kendall, and Logan was falling asleep on Kendall's shoulder.
"There's room next to me," James offered, scooching over just a skosh. Scarlett smiled gratefully, crawling over several pairs of laps before reaching her destination. Logan stirred when her knees knocked into his. His eyes fluttered open slowly.
"Sorry about the hold-up, guys," Scarlett apologized, digging her rectangle-frames out of her tote bag. Thank God, she thought, remembering she'd slipped them into her bag the night before.
"No worries," Kendall yawned, shrugging Logan off of him. "We bring earplugs to work now so we don't have to endure Gustavo's wrath."
Scarlett grinned, leaning back in her seat. Logan let out a soft snore, snuggling into Kendall's cardigan. Kendall, fed up, buried his elbow in Logan's ribs. He sprang to life, his head thumping the roof of the limousine.
"Dude, what the hell?" Logan snapped, rubbing his noggin.
Kendall shrugged innocently. "You were invading my personal space."
"Sorry," Logan sighed sleepily, "I got absolutely no sleep last night. I feel like a zombie."
"Ugh, same here," Scarlett sympathized. Logan glanced up, surprised that she had responded. The two of them shared a knowing look before quickly looking away from each other.
Logan said something inaudible, his lips moving slowly. Scarlett frowned. "What was that?"
"Your glasses," Logan repeated, motioning to his face, "They're crooked." Scarlett fingers reached up to her glasses automatically. After adjusting them, Logan said, "They're still crooked." He reached forward to help and stopped himself, finding it too intimate for some reason.
"Hold on," James instructed. His hands were suddenly in Scarlett's vision, moving her frames around. "I think they might be defective," he said with a chuckle.
"I always forget to take them off before bed," Scarlett admitted sheepishly.
"Maybe crooked glasses will become a trend," Carlos offered optimistically. Scarlett couldn't help but laugh.
"Soon the whole world will be snapping one of the arms of their glasses and wearing them lopsidedly," James teased.
"They'd be cheaper to produce, too," Scarlett giggled.
Soon, everyone was laughing along. The limo rolled up to the curb near the entrance to Rocque Records. The building towered over them menacingly, intimidating anything that dared to approach it. Scarlett and the boys marched in confidently. Kelly trailed behind them, along with Freight Train, who had driven the car.
In the recording studio, Gustavo and Scarlett's aunt, Nova, were chatting quietly. At least, Nova was chatting. Gustavo seemed to be trying to block out her incessant blathering. He actually seemed relieved when the teens walked into the room.
"Great, time to start recording!" he blurted, interrupting Nova's story. "Dogs, get in the booth!"
Kelly stood in the doorway, purple clipboard in hand. "Nova, Scarlett, you guys are coming with me."
Nova and Scarlett followed her out of the room and down the brightly lit hallway, admiring the many awards that decked the walls.
Scarlett leaned towards her aunt. "Must you insist on boring that poor man to death?" she teased. "He may just become my boss."
Nova stuck her tongue out, nudging her niece playfully in the side. "I was entertaining him."
Scarlett suppressed a snort. "Yeah," she replied, "I could tell by the way he was ripping his nonexistent hair in fury." Nova rolled her yes, pushing Scarlett towards one of the walls. Scarlett giggled, her laugh reverberating of the walls.
Kelly pulled a jumble of keys out of her purse and plugged on into the doorknob she was standing in front of. Scarlett and Nova stood patiently behind her. A click sounded as Kelly turned the knob and pushed open the door. Inside the large room, they were now in, there was a long table, a propped up on the wall, and a pie chart. Arthur Griffin sat at the other end of the table, smiling eagerly.
Scarlett was sat down in the first seat. A steaming mug of coffee was sitting on front of her that had the Rocque Records logo plastered to the front. Nova sat down next to her, squeezing her shoulder.
"How are you, Scarlett? Are you feeling better?" Griffin asked, sitting up in his customized desk chair.
"Um, yeah, actually," Scarlett stammered, unsure of which question to answer. "I've been feeling—"
"That's great," Griffin interrupted, clasping his hands together. "Today is the day we begin the rebuilding of your image. Allow my team to take you through an interactive process of making a name."
The lights suddenly dimmed and the plasma screen in front illuminated. Nova clapped excitedly as Arthur stood, whipping a pointer from out of nowhere. Scarlett tiredly rested her head on the table and watched the steam rise from her coffee cup.
"Here at Rocque Records, we've got different sectors of people working specific areas of our talents' careers," Griffin announced proudly. He smacked the tip of his pointer against the screen. Scarlett turned towards her aunt, whose eyes were wide, mesmerized by the giant screen.
"First," Griffin continued with a smile, "I present the stylists and the marketing." A spotlight flashed onto a group of people with crazy neon hair with far too much makeup on…even the guys. The marketing team, blending into the darkness with their black and grey suits, stepped out of the corner.
"How come they get a spotlight?" the woman from the two-person marketing team asked, clearly annoyed by this. Her partner nodded along with her. "What about us?"
"You're in marketing, Alice," Griffin scoffed, "The spotlight is for the cool people." The stylists beamed, posing with hairdryers and tape measures in their hands. Scarlett rolled her eyes discreetly and she took a sip of her coffee. Though it was still scalding hot, she didn't react in any way.
"Well, you didn't let us do our dramatic entrance, so your loss," Alice muttered under her breath. "Stylists, do your thing."
A split second later, the stylists had hoisted Scarlett out of her seat. She stood in front of them, trying not to liquefy into a puddle of jelly as they critiqued her appearance.
"I can't decide if her sweater is chic or if it was eaten away by killer moths," one expressed mercilessly.
"What happened to the cute five foot six girl from last year?" another asked, "She's like the Jolly Green Giant now." Scarlett's jaw dropped and she glared at her aunt for help. Nova made a zipping lips motions, silently begging her niece not to act out.
"Did someone dip her in a vat of Wite-Out?"
"And what's with the piercings? Are you alternative now?"
"Alternative to what?" Scarlett asked, genuinely confused.
A man with a purple faux-hawk raised his hands, his fingers hovering around Scarlett's bedhead hair. "It's like a sad animal attempted suicide on her head!" he exclaimed.
"You realize I'm right here…"
Alice raised her hand, signaling the stylists to shush. "That's enough, guys." Her partner pressed a button on the tiny remote in his hand and a pie chart appeared on the screen.
"Okay, last year, you were at the top of the charts," Alice explained, "But you also had a large group of people who hated you and your music…"
"This chart will help us change the minds of those people," her partner continued. "According to statistics, rap and hip-hop are rated the highest right now, as is dance-pop—"
"What do you think of this look?" a stylist asked excitedly, snatching the screen remote and pressing a button. A virtual Scarlett dressed in a sideways baseball cap, baggy jeans, and a loose crop top stood in front of them. When Scarlett reached out to touch it, the image fizzled and twitched.
"Um, yeah, I don't think so," Scarlett mumbled, shaking her head. The stylist pouted and pressed another button on the remote. The avatar spun around, turning into a neon-colored blur. When it stopped, virtual Scarlett's hair was in a long, bright purple ponytail. She was wearing gold-sequined boy shorts slung low on her hips and a metallic Lycra bandeau that was next nothing. High-heeled boots were pulled up to mid-thigh.
"Ooh, I love that!" a faux-lashed stylist screeched. Many of them murmured in agreement. Aunt Nova turned to her niece. She was wearing a pained expression. Kelly bit her nails, ruining her manicure.
Alice smiled, revealing the lipstick on her teeth. "Our test audience liked this look best, too."
Scarlett crossed her arms over her chest defiantly. "Was the audience made up of horny teenage boys?"
The room fell silent. Griffin's eyebrows furrowed and his smile had morphed into a menacing scowl.
Scarlett frowned back at him. "I'm just giving my opinion. And I should be able to, since I'm part of this."
"There are some aspects of your look that you have to compromise on," Arthur said firmly. "This look is what sells, and if you want to be back on top, this is what you'll do." Scarlett's heart sank. This wasn't going to happen to her again, was it?
Scarlett freed herself from the group of stylists that had encircled her and marched up to Griffin. He was only a couple of inches taller than her, which intimidated him.
"I think you're mistaken about the definition of 'compromise'," Scarlett sneered, getting up in his face. "And if slutty clothes and bad music is what it takes get back on top, I'd rather not be up there."
Before he could retaliate, Scarlett whipped around, her pale hair brushing him in the face. She ran past Kelly and out of the room. It was hard to breathe when the air in there was so clogged up with stupidity. Nova hopped out of her seat, knocking her chair over. "Scarlett, wait!" she exclaimed, feeling a strange sense of déjà vu come over her.
Kelly sighed heavily, feeling her temples begin to throb. "Here we go again."
A/N: There you go! I'm sorry about the delay of updates, guys. School is absolutely all-consuming. Anyways, I hope this satisfied you and I'll try to get the next chapter up soon. NOW BYE-BYE, YOU GORGEOUS POPSICLES!