Hello! And welcome to yet another chapter of "Common People!" I bet some of you were wondering if you would ever hear from me again, huh? Well, I was having a bit of a tough time for a while (still am to some extent) but thinks are getting better, life is improving, and I managed to sit down and actually pound out this chapter... I have to say that I'm a lot happier with it than I was with the last couple... this one just seemed to flow rather well. Ok... I'm gonna move on now.
Thank you's: well, first and foremost, thank you to Jeff, author of "Twist of Fate." Jeff is a great, GREAT friend of mine, and he's been there to help me through a lot of shit. Go read his story, go email him... you will NOT be disappointed. Other thanks go out to Justin, who just started reading this... I hope you realize how much I value you as a friend... RCJ, for lending me an ear every now and again, Ryan, for just being a great friend and helping me out, Adam, for listening to me (and seeming to like me), Loner, author of "Magic Can Be Real," for being concerned about me (why do I feel like I just won an Oscar or something?), and, last but not least, Rebecca... who, despite the notable handicap of being a girl, is an awesome, awesome person. Other stories to go read (here in the hood, we call these "shout-outs" :)): "Some Kind of Bliss," "Search & Rescue," "Brian & Me," and, last, but certainly not least, "Blind Faith" by Sam... it's developing into a great story, and I don't want it to get overlooked. To everyone else who's emailed me about the story, thank YOU... and yes, I will eventually get back to you.
Disclaimer time! If you're not 18, you aren't supposed to be reading this... but ask your parents... who knows? They might give you permission!
This story does not mean to imply that anyone in NSYNC is, in any way, attracted to men... I'm not gonna imply that any of them are attracted to women either... whatever floats their boat is cool with me... just as long as it doesn't involve small farm animals... that would just be disgusting.
Ok, one last thing... if you like the story, if you hate the story, if you're entirely apathetic towards the story, email me about it! You can email me at: sethdropspants@hotmail.com (and I'm gonna try something new here, and possibly a little scary... you guys know how I sometimes have a slogan here? Well, I'm gonna try and start a contest... I'm gonna let you guys pick my slogan for the next chapter... the one the judges like the most, wins (I'm the only judge) and gets included in the next chapter, along with the winner's name... we'll see if I get any entries...) Anyways, enjoy the story!
"the closest thing to perfect but the farthest thing from me" -the juliana theory
*** (last time...)
"Night Josh." I pressed the off button on the phone and leaned back in the chair I was sitting in. God... in just a few days, I'd be with him again! I stared off into space for a while, just thinking of how lucky I was to have found Josh... and how lucky I was for him to care about me too. I eventually remembered that someone had called while I was talking to him, so I turned the phone back on and dialed up my voice mail. I punched in my password and, sure enough, found I had a new message. Message sent at blah blah blah...
"Toby, it's Tom... call me as soon as you get this message. We have a HUGE problem..."
I hate flying. I hate it, I hate it, I HATE IT. It's not that I get air sick, or that I'm claustrophobic or anything... I dunno... it's just this fear of plummeting 30,000 feet to my death that kind of bothers me... odd huh? And what made this trip even worse was that I was going in the exact opposite direction of where I wanted to go... north to New York instead of south, to... to Josh.
Sometimes I really hate being a producer. I mean, I love music and I love creating songs and stuff... but record executives always bugged the hell out of me. It used to be that people cared about putting out good music, music that would actually have an impact on someone's life... but now? Now all people care about is money... if a CD won't make any, it isn't green-lit, or it isn't marketed well.
"So what brings you to the 'Big Apple?'"
I mean, I worked so freakin' hard on this CD! And it sounded... well, it wasn't gonna be a classic or anything, but it was such an improvement for the guys... it was a chance to give them a career beyond the whole boy band thing... but was that good enough? No... of course not... those bastards didn't give a rat's ass about the guys' careers... all they cared about was fattening their own motherfuc...
"HELLO???"
I snapped out of my daze. "What?"
"I asked you why you're going to the 'Big Apple!' And you just ignored me... that really isn't very nice."
I glanced next to me to get a better idea of who the hell was telling me I was being rude. She was maybe in her late 50's, early 60's... gray hair, glasses, the whole bit. "I'm sorry... I was just kind of in my own world..."
She interrupted me. "Well, maybe you should learn to pay attention when someone's talking to you."
You know, it figures... there are probably 20 billion people who go to New York every single day, and I get stuck next to a cranky old witch. I thought briefly about telling her off, but my evil side reared its head and I decided to have a little fun. "Well, to answer your question, I'm flying to New York on business. How about yourself?"
She sniffed a little and sat up in her seat. "It's none of your business."
What the fuck?!? What the hell is wrong with this woman? "Ummm... I suppose that it isn't, but I just thought I would ask, since you asked me... I wouldn't want to be rude or anything."
She turned away from me. "Well, you should have thought of that before you ignored me."
I sighed. You know, it was this exact kind of woman who made me get down on my knees and thank God that I was gay. I decided it was time to put my plan into action. I leaned a little closer to her. "You know, just between you and me, I'm really depressed about going to New York."
This seemed to pique her interest and she turned back towards me. "Really? Why?"
I sighed. "Well... you see, I recently met someone... whom I care about a lot... the problem is that it's a long-distance relationship. I was all set to go see them... but I got called away to New York." I made sure to use non-gender specific nouns with her... I had a feeling this was gonna be fun.
"That is so sad," she said, placing her hand on mine. "You poor boy... I'm sorry if I was a little rude myself earlier... I had no idea that you were hurting so badly. My name's Margaret." She offered me her free hand.
"Mine's Toby... and it's ok... it's just really hard, you know?"
Margaret shook her head. "That is so sad... what's her name?"
I paused for effect. "His name is Josh." I sat back in my seat and waited for her reaction.
She seemed to ponder what I was saying for a moment before it finally hit her. "You mean... you're... you're gay?!?"
"Yep!" I smiled inwardly, awaiting her next comment.
"That is so... neat!"
WHAT?!? Nononono... that's not what she was supposed to say! "Wha... neat?"
"That is SUCH a coincidence! My grandson, Peter, recently... oh... what do you people call it... 'came out,' is it? Anyway, he did that and I was looking for someone to set him up with! And my best girlfriend, Mary, has a nephew who's gay and so we tried to set them up. And it was so cute! We all had lunch together and Mary and I were talking and trying to get the two of them to talk to each other, and they kept acting like they were uncomfortable! But so anyway..."
Jesus... I buried my face in my hands... but... she... just... kept... TALKING! Somebody shoot me... or at least hit me... HARD... I sighed. "Look... ummm... Margaret... I have to go now... bathroom and all..."
"Oh, don't worry about that sweetie... and when you get back, remind me to tell you about my gay uncle... he was SUCH a sweetheart!"
I just ignored her and ran to the bathroom. Christ... how many fucking gay people did this woman know?!? I had a sinking feeling that I would find out before the plane ride was over. I hid in the bathroom for as long as I could before someone knocked on the door. I took a deep breath and left the restroom. On the way back to my seat, I ran into a flight attendant. "Excuse me... but you wouldn't happen to have any sleeping pills or anything like that, would you?"
She smiled at me. "I'm sorry sir, but I don't think so." Crap. I was hoping I could slip something into Margaret's drink.
"Thanks anyway." I walked as slowly as I could back to my seat, cringing as I saw Margaret waiting for me.
"Oh good! Sure took you long enough... but don't worry... I'm like that too... have I told you about my bladder problems?"
KILL ME NOW! I slouched down in my seat as much as possible and hoped that my head would implode from the sound of Margaret's voice. And soon.
The next two hours were, quite possibly, the two longest hours of my life, with the possible exception of when I was 16 and was forced to go to one of those Sadie Hawkins things with a girl... when the plane finally landed, I jumped out of my seat and vaulted over people to get as far away from Margaret as quickly as humanly fucking possible. I had darted out of the gate when I heard someone call my name from behind me. I turned around to see Tom waiting for me with a woman I didn't know. "Hey Tom... how ya doing?" I pulled him into a hug.
He sighed. "Well, been better... I think you can figure out why though."
"I know... trust me... I know." He nodded in recognition of my problem before introducing me to his companion.
"Toby, this is Anna Franklin... she's a representative for Jive." I looked her over quickly. She was, I do suppose, your typical young urban professional. Short, trendy blond hair, the whole skirt-suit thing... she was a good enough looking woman, I do suppose... not that I'm into that sort of thing.
She extended her hand, which I accepted. "It's nice to meet you Mr. Evans. We're sorry to have to get you up here at the last minute."
"It's ok," I lied. "And please... call me Toby. I am so not old enough to be 'Mr. Evans.'"
"Ok, Toby." She smiled at me. "Do you have any baggage you need to pick up?"
I shook my head. "Nope... I don't like to check baggage. Got everything I need right here," I said, patting my carry-on bag.
"Good... we have a car waiting." Anna turned from me and began walking towards, I presumed, the exit. I kept a pretty fair distance between her and me and, as I expected Tom slowed to my pace.
"So," I whispered, "What the hell is going on here?"
He sighed. "This is all bullshit. The CD's great... it's exactly what I had expected, and I know it's what the guys wanted... but as soon as all the suits heard it, they were throwing fits left and right, saying that it would never sell, the girls wouldn't love them anymore... it was ridiculous."
"Umm... I hate to break this to you, but you're a suit."
He gave me a quick punch on the arm. "Yeah, but I am so much cooler than they are," he laughed.
"That you are Tom, that you are. So what do they want me to do?"
"I really don't have any idea. They wouldn't tell me, so... from that, I can pretty much guess that it ain't good." Great... as crappy as I had been feeling earlier about not seeing Josh, knowing that I was about to get the riot act only soured my mood even more.
"Yeah really..." I looked up to see that we were exiting the airport. Anna was standing in front of a limo, waiting for us. Before we reached the car, Tom pulled me aside.
"Look, Toby... I just wanna say that I'm really sorry about this. I did everything I could to convince them not to call you up here."
"I know," I sighed. "I know."
He looked at me worriedly. "Just... just don't take it out on the execs, ok? They'll eat you alive if you start getting all emotional on them."
"We'll see," I stated flatly. "Let's go... the sooner we get this over with, the sooner I can get the fuck out of here." He nodded and walked with me to the car. Anna had already climbed in and was looking at her watch impatiently. As soon as we had sat down, the driver took us away to, I presumed, the meeting. The record company hadn't exactly been forthcoming about what the hell was going on here, a fact that just pissed me off even more.
"So Toby..." Anna started. "Ever been to New York?"
"Yeah."
"Do you like it here?"
"Whatever."
"Umm... ok... so... when was the last time you were here?"
I sighed. "Do I look like I care?" I looked up at her and saw that I had hurt her a bit with that last comment. Great... that'll make me feel better.
"Look..." she said, her tone very icy. "Do you have some sort of problem with me?"
Tom took this opportunity to jump into the conversation... mostly, I think, because he was scared about what was gonna come out of my mouth next. "I don't think Toby has ANY problem with you Anna... isn't that right Toby?" When I didn't respond, a look of frustration washed over his face. "TOBY," he began, through gritted teeth, "you have no problem with Anna... correct?" I slowly nodded, and he relaxed a bit. "See?"
Anna leaned back in her seat. "You know, for some reason, I'm just not convinced."
"I would think that Toby is just a little upset that he was asked to come up here on his vacation. I believe that he had other plans." He stopped and glared at me. "Right Toby?" I nodded again... I knew better than to mess with Tom when he was that pissed off. Anna chose to ignore us for the rest of the car ride, and the remainder of the time was spent in silence. We eventually reached what I guessed was one of the headquarters for Jive and pulled into a parking structure under the building. Anna practically jumped out of the car as soon as it stopped.
"If you gentlemen would follow me... we're a little late," she said, quite coldly.
I grabbed my bag and followed Tom out of the car. You know, it would have been a little nice if I could have at least CHECKED IN and dropped off my bag at a hotel... that might have been a little courteous of the label. But no... "What the hell is wrong with you?"
"What?"
Tom grabbed my arm and pulled me closer to him. "Toby, I told you not to let your emotions interfere with this... if you do, this is NOT gonna go well!"
I broke free of his grasp and backed away a bit. "Well excuse me," I started, in a very loud whisper. "I should be with Josh right now instead of in some fucking parking lot under a building I don't wanna go into for a meeting I don't wanna have! I'm so sorry I'm a little bitter that I gave you guys a quality CD but that means absolutely nothing! I'm a little pissed that every minute I'm here is one more fucking minute that I can't be with Josh! So I apologize if I seem to be a tad bit angry!"
He sighed. "I know Toby... just try and be cool with these guys... that's all I'm saying. It won't go well if you get all emotional with them."
"I know... and I know that you're just trying to look out for me, which I DO appreciate."
"EXCUSE ME?!?" We both looked up to see Anna standing next to an open elevator, waiting very impatiently. "If you two gentlemen are finished CHATTING, we have a meeting to go to." Are all women like this? Or just the ones that I happen to piss off? Tom and I both sighed and walked towards the elevator. When we were all inside, Anna pressed some button near the top and we began the (very) slow ascension. Every so often, she would turn around, for the sole purpose, I assumed, of glaring at me. Today has not been a very good people day. When we reached our floor, she darted out of the elevator and moved quickly down a hallway. I had to book ass in order to keep up with her, especially since I was still carrying my bag. Anna stopped in front of a rather large and intimidating door to talk to a secretary, who waved for her to go in. She glared at me again. "Just sit here and I'll be right back... got it?" Jeez... you'd think that I was like three years old or something... I chose a seat as far away from the door as I could get. Tom sat down beside me.
"So... what are you gonna say to them?"
I shrugged. "I dunno... I'm sure I can come up with something... and it all depends on what they want me to do... are you gonna come in with me?"
Tom nodded. "Of course... someone has to protect you."
I stared at him for a moment, trying to see if he was joking with me or not... when I saw that he wasn't, I got a little offended. "Hey... I can take care of myself, you know."
"I meant from yourself."
"That kinda hurts man." Ok, so 'kinda' was a bit of an understatement... it actually hurt a lot that Tom didn't think I was capable of handling this.
He leaned back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest. "Toby, you know that I love you, right?" I nodded. "Good... but you just don't handle these types of situations well!" I opened up my mouth to say something, but he cut me off. "I'm sorry, but it's true! You don't handle confrontation well... you just don't. And when you add in the fact that you're already pissed off because of the whole Josh thing, and I can tell that you're gonna need some help."
I could see his point, but, me being me, I was not gonna let this situation drop. "What do you mean, 'the whole Josh thing?'"
"God Toby, you know I didn't mean it like that," he sighed. "Maybe it's time you grew up and stopped looking for insults that aren't there."
Whoa... what was wrong with him? Alright... so it might have been somewhat unfair that I said that, but things like that never, NEVER, bothered Tom... I'm not the swiftest of guys, but I could tell that there was something more going on here. I thought about mentioning that, but this was neither the time nor the place. I instead decided to just change the subject. "Well, maybe we're worrying about nothing. We don't know what they wanna talk to me about."
"Do you really think that they'd drag you all the way up here if the just wanted to say 'good job?'"
"Probably n..."
He didn't even let me finish. "I mean, you were on a fucking plane the day after they told me to call you... that sure as hell sounds like a problem to me."
Ok, there was seriously something going on here... I had never seen Tom act like this before. I studied him for a minute. He looked... pale... tired... worn out... why didn't I notice that before? I quickly retraced the events of this afternoon... the more I thought about it, the more I realized how 'off' his behavior really had been. This was something we were seriously gonna discuss... but it really couldn't be now. I tried to lighten the mood for the time being. "I know... I was just being an optimist."
"You?" He cracked a half-smile.
"Of course!" I grinned at him. "Gotta be a first time for everything, I do suppose."
"Mr. Evans?" I looked up to see the secretary standing in front of us.
"Yes?"
"Mr. Nielson and Mr. Banks will see you now."
"Thanks." I grabbed my bag and walked towards the office, Tom right behind me.
"Actually... they specifically requested only to see you. NOT Mr. Delaney."
I turned around to face her. "Actually... he's coming in with me," I said, in the iciest tone I could muster. It seems that I 'mustered' pretty damn well, cause that shut her up. I walked slowly into the office, with Tom still by my side. The office was, in a word, HUGE. And nice. Ok, so that's two words, but still... beautiful furniture, floor to ceiling tinted windows, tons of artwork on the walls and sculptures scattered around. As my gaze swept the room, I focused on one area, which I guess was the informal meeting section. Two men, one with gray hair and a beard, the other much younger, were sitting, with Anna standing just behind the chairs. As they took notice of us, they both stood, anticipating the introductions. I placed my bag down next to the door and walked over to them. The older one spoke first.
"Mr. Evans?" I nodded. "Frank Nielson. Nice to meet you. I'm a big fan of your work."
I shook his hand slowly. He had a nice grip, very professional... I got the rather distinct impression that he had been doing this sort of thing for a while. "Thank you, Mr. Nielson. I appreciate that a lot. And please... call me Toby."
He nodded a little and smiled. "I believe that I can do that."
"Toby?" I turned my head to see the other man offering me his hand. "Russell Banks. Nice to meet you."
"It's nice to meet you too, Mr. Banks." He held up his hand and opened his mouth, but I knew what he was gonna say. "Ok, I can call you Russell."
A shocked look spread over his face, but he quickly recovered. "Impressive," he said, with a grin. "Please... have a seat, would you?" I nodded and sat on the couch opposite the two chairs. Tom was beside me. If they were unhappy about having him there, they didn't show it... just kind of ignored him completely, to be exact. After Russell and Nielson settled back into their chairs, Russell spoke up again. "Did you have a nice flight?"
"Well, as nice as a flight can be, I guess. I'm not a big fan of flying."
Nielson smiled. "I understand. Neither am I. And I am sorry to have asked you to come up here on such short notice, but we felt that we needed to deal with this as quickly as possible."
"Deal with what?"
"Oh, we'll get to that. Would you like some coffee?" He smiled again.
Ok... if he didn't stop being so damn "sweet," I was seriously gonna scream.
"No thank you."
"Oh..." My refusal seemed to throw him for a loop. It seemed to me that he wasn't used to having people refuse anything he offered. "Are you sure?"
"Yes." I sure as hell wasn't here for a social visit, and I'll be damned if I was gonna play nice with these people.
With that, Russell jumped back into the conversation. Why did I get the feeling that I was being double- teamed here? "Well, in that case, we might as well just get down to business... ok?" I almost said something, but realized he wasn't talking to me. Nielson nodded slightly and Russell turned his attention back to me. "After all... you don't seem like the type of guy who likes to dance around a problem... am I right?"
I put on my best fake plastic smile. "That's right!" I said, through gritted teeth. These two were really beginning to irritate me.
"Well, let me say this before we start: I thought that the CD was excellent.
You really did a great job."
"And I thought the same thing," added Nielson.
My mind started to wander to fantasies of ripping out tongues, or whatever the hell it would take to shut these two up. "But?"
Nielson sighed. "But... it just wasn't what we were looking for."
Big fucking surprise. "Well, what is it exactly that you WERE looking for?"
I think I might have said it a wee bit too sarcastically, because Tom shot me a look.
"Well, the CD was great, don't get me wrong... it was just that... well... we were looking for something a bit more 'poppy.'"
"Poppy," I stated, rather flatly.
I guess it was Russell's turn to talk, because he started up again. "Well, we don't have to get into that right now... but we just felt that it was important for you to know that we were unhappy with the direction that both the band and the CD was headed."
Now I really was starting to get a little angry. "And what direction would that be?"
"Well..."
I cut him off. "The direction of having a real career? The direction of not being a laughingstock in the music world anymore? Is that the direction that you're talking about?" I saw, out of the corner of my eye, that Tom was giving me another look. I chose to ignore him though, and went on. "Or why don't YOU tell me exactly what direction you were talking about?"
"Now calm down Toby... we appreciate what you're talking about, but we also have to look out for our interests, as well as the band's."
"And what interests would these be? Money?"
Nielson sighed. "I'm not going to sit here and lie to you Toby. I know that it wouldn't do any good, for me, for you, or for the situation we're in. Yes, a large part of it is about money. That's the business that we're in. We put out CD's so we can make a profit and put out more CD's. That's the way that the music business works."
"Well, don't get me wrong, I do appreciate your honesty... but don't you think that what the music industry SHOULD be about is putting out quality music, and not just catering to the whim of every fad and teenage girl that comes along?"
"In a perfect world, yes! I agree with you completely. And I didn't get into the music business 30 years ago to put out music that would just sell... I got in it to put out great music! Music that would change lives! But it's an awfully idealistic sentiment, and idealism fades quite fast when you have to worry about whether or not you're gonna make enough money to keep your company in business."
I knew where he was coming from... I had heard the argument millions of times before. But that didn't mean that I had to agree with it. "But look around! You have incredible amounts of money... you're in the position to change all that... you CAN put out quality CD's... and I firmly believe that if you put out good music, people will buy it!" I was now standing in front of the couch, waving my arms around frantically. I tend to do that when I'm passionate about something.
"How many copies did the new Nine Inch Nails sell? You worked on that, right?" I nodded. "How many did it sell?"
"About a million."
"About a million. How about the new Tom Waits? How many people buy Radiohead CD's? How many people have even HEARD of Wilco? Or the Fountains of Wayne? And yet all of those people consistently put out incredible CD's... that no one buys!"
"Well, how much money is spent advertising the new Wilco CD? Or the new Get Up Kids? And then how much money is spent to advertise the new Backstreet Boys or Limp Bizket? It's not up to the public! It's up to you guys... whatever you pour money into is what they buy!"
"But isn't it a better investment to, as you say, 'pour money' into something we know will sell? What if we use millions of dollars to advertise the new Tom Waits, but no one buys it anyway? Think about how much money we would lose, how many people would lose their jobs."
"If you get it out there, it WILL sell."
Nielson sat back in his chair and crossed his arms. "I'm sorry Toby... but that's not really a risk I can afford to take."
I collapsed back onto the couch. How was I supposed to get anywhere if he wasn't willing to even consider my point of view? "So what do you want me to do?"
Russell, who had remained very quiet during our little 'exchange,' spoke up again now. "Frankly, we want you to re-record the CD."
That should have probably come as a bigger shock to me than it did, but, truth be told, I was kinda expecting it. "I don't think that I can do that." And THAT little comment brought the room to a dead halt.
"What?" gasped Russell. if the circumstances were a bit lighter, I would have laughed... the expression on his face was priceless.
"I think you heard me."
Nielson straightened up in his chair and looked me directly in the eye. "I don't think you understand Toby. We're not asking you."
"Quite frankly, Mr. Nielson, I don't like being told to do something I don't want to do."
"Well, that's a shame. Because that's exactly what I'm doing."
I'll be fucked if I'm gonna alter one damn word or note on that CD. "Well, I hate to disappoint you, but I'm not going to do it. If you want that disc changed, you'll have to find someone else."
"We'd like you to do it."
"Why me? Why not any of the millions of other producers that you have at your disposal?"
"Because you bring a lot of credibility to the CD. You're very respected in the music field."
"And I gave you a CD that both the band and I was happy with."
"But we're not."
"Well, I'm not gonna change it."
Anna handed Nielson a stack of papers. While he was flipping through them, I glanced at Tom, who was shifting in his seat. That's kinda odd... what's wrong with him? "Toby, I hate for it to have to come to this, but yes, you are going to change it. Or we'll sue you."
What?!? "On what grounds?"
"Breach of contract." He handed me the stack of papers he was holding.
I flipped through them quickly. It was the contract that I had signed, the contract that I ALWAYS signed whenever I worked with Tom. And there was NEVER anything in it that would force me to... OH MY GOD. There it was, highlighted for easy reference: "The undersigned will produce one (1) compact disc that meets the approval of..." and then it went on, listing lots and lots of names. Where in the FUCK did that come from? That had never been in my contract before... I had worked with Tom so many times that I didn't even bother reading the contracts anymore, cause they were always the same... so how... OH MY GOD... I slowly turned my head to look at Tom. He was staring at me with such a sad face... but I was WAY too PISSED to feel any sympathy right now. "Tom... where in the FUCK did that come from?"
"T-Tobe, l-l-lemme explain..."
Screw that! I leapt off the couch and spat fire. "FUCK explaining. You KNEW that I never read these things anymore... and you used that to your advantage, didn't you? You stuck that in there... and didn't even BOTHER to tell me!!! How could you do that to me?!? To us, to our FRIENDSHIP?!? Or should I say, to what WAS our friendship?"
"I-I-I didn't do it..."
"How could you put me in a situation like this? A situation where I'm TRAPPED doing something that I feel HORRIBLE doing? You've put me into a situation where I'm being forced to compromise my principles!"
He dropped his head. "I'm sorry Toby," he whispered.
"You know what Tom? That just isn't good enough." I walked quickly towards the door, grabbed my bag, and was halfway out the door when Nielson spoke up again.
"Toby?"
I turned and looked him directly in the eye. "What?"
"We'll need you here tomorrow at 1:00 to go over the changes we want for the CD."
"Mr. Nielson... I'll be here tomorrow, but I want you to know that what went on here today makes me sick."
"I gathered that."
"And, I beg your pardon, but you can all fuck off." And with that, I stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind me. I rushed passed the secretary, bypassed the elevator, and instead flew straight down the stairs. It wasn't until I was through the lobby and safely in a cab heading to my hotel that I began to process what had just gone down.
I shut my eyes and leaned back in my seat. God... Tom! Tom! TOM! How could he put me in this situation? How could he betray our friendship like that? All I could remember was how he helped me get started, showed me the ropes, sat with me through all my troubles, all my issues. He was always, ALWAYS, there for me! I trusted him implicitly. and he just turned around and betrayed that trust... how could he not tell me about putting that in the contract? How could he have used me like that? After all we had done, all we had been through... he just threw it all aside. I trusted him so much, and he turned his back on me, like he didn't care... like I meant nothing...
"Hey mister!"
I snapped back to reality and opened my eyes to see the cabby looking at me.
"Yeah?"
"We're at your hotel... unless you'd be more comfortable stayin' in the back of my cab."
I ignored his comment and climbed out of the car. I paid the tab, left him a (small) tip, and headed inside. I walked up to the front desk to check in. "Excuse me... I have reservations under Evans."
The woman behind the counter smiled at me. Somehow, that just made me feel even worse. "Certainly sir... if you'll just hold on for one second..." I waited as she punched away at her keyboard. "Ok... everything seems to be in order... and you'll be paying by... oh... you won't be..."
That surprised me. "What?"
"It seems like someone has already paid your bill." Tom. Yeah... that would make up for what he did. "Is that a problem?"
I felt extremely tired all of a sudden. "No... no problem. can I just get my key please?"
"Of course... let me just go get it." She disappeared into the backroom, reappearing a few minutes later carrying a key and a wad of papers. "It seems like you have quite a few messages waiting for you." She handed me the slips of papers and I glanced through them quickly... Tom, Tom, Aaron, Tom, Nielson's secretary... damn, those people were quick... I had left like 30 minutes ago.
"Look, I don't want any calls, ok? Just take messages... I don't want to be disturbed."
"No problem... but..."
"But what?"
"Well, a man was in here about 15 minutes ago asking if you had checked in yet... I told him no, but I really don't know if he left." Great... but how in the hell did Tom get down here so fast?
"It's ok... I'll deal with it. Thanks for your help."
She smiled again. "No problem. And enjoy your stay at..." I walked away before she could finish her thought. I glanced down quickly at my key to see if they had put me in the room they were supposed to, and I was relieved to see that they had. At least one thing wasn't fucked up today. I took the stairs up to the third floor... I didn't really have the patience to sit and wait for an elevator right now. I turned down the corridor leading to my room and saw a person sitting in front of what I was pretty sure was my room. Great... just what I wanna deal with right now. Tom must've FLOWN down here... I walked slowly down the hall... when the person saw me approaching, he stood up quickly with a huge grin on his face.
"Hi Toby."
"Josh?!?"
And that will just about wrap up chapter 8... I hope that you guys enjoyed it... if you did, if you didn't, if you don't even know how you got onto a gay website, email me: sethdropspants@hotmail.com. I like to think that I'm a nice enough guy, though I dunno how many people would agree with that... anyways, about the next chapter... I really have no clue when it'll be out... I'm gonna try and get it to you by the end of April, at the latest, but no promises, ya hear? If it flows as well as this chapter did, we shouldn't have a problem though. Oh yeah... and before I forget, I need to say one more thing: SLJ. Until next time... be good and don't let the man get you down!