Climbing the Rock

Chapter 8B: Imagery

The movie premier that Jake and Matt had been pretty much ordered to attend (their contract stated they were required to make themselves available for public appearances as arranged by the record company — this was without compensation, of course, with only travel being paid for) was for a film called Thinner Than Water. Neither Jake nor Matt knew anything about it other than it starred Mindy Snow and Veronica Julius, two of the hottest young female actors on the movie scene today, though two polar opposites as far as public image went.

Mindy Snow was the epitome of the innocent girl next door. She was beautiful, of course, but in a wholesome, family values sort of way. She had been one of the stars of a popular prime time series called The Slow Lane, which was about life in a small midwestern town in the fifties. She had played the churchgoing, overly religious younger sister of the family. America had watched her grow from a sweet and innocent twelve year old to a sweet and innocent sixteen year old during the four years the series had been on the air. She was now twenty years old and had been in two movies since then, her character always a copy of the sweet and innocent role she'd portrayed in the series.

Veronica Julius was also beautiful, but in a way that was not so innocent. She too had been in a popular prime-time series but she had played a troubled, street-wise teenager in a dysfunctional family. Her movie roles had become ever more risqué since then, with her playing a young drug addict, a young AIDS victim, and the villainous vamp in a horror flick.

"Tell me again why we have to go to this thing?" Jake asked Janice — who, naturally, had been sent to accompany them and act as their babysitter — as they rode in the limousine towards the Bentley Brooks Theater in Hollywood.

"Yeah," Matt agreed, tugging at the bowtie on his neck. "And why do we have to wear these fucking tuxedos? I think I'm breaking out in a rash from this thing."

Janice sighed, her patented why do I have to put up with such uncouth barbarians sigh. "You have to go because it will get your faces in the entertainment magazines and therefore give you publicity," she explained. "And you have to wear a tuxedo because that is simply how it is done in Hollywood. It's a black tie affair."

"Well who invited us?" Jake asked. "Why do the people throwing this gig want us there?"

"This is a film aimed at the fifteen to eighteen and the eighteen to twenty-five female demographic," Janice replied.

"So it's a teenybopper chick flick," Matt said.

Janice actually winced at that description, but nodded. "Yes," she said. "And that particular demographic also happens to be a big part of the Intemperance fan base. Therefore, the girls who will be interested in this film are the same ones who buy your records. Your presence at this affair is helpful to National Records and to Galaxy Studios."

"I see," Matt said, nodding wisely. "So what's this flick about, anyway?"

"It's about two sisters," Janice said. "One is wholesome and innocent, the other is somewhat of a... well, a girl without morals."

"A goody two shoes bitch and a slut?" Matt asked.

Janice winced again. "I suppose," she said. "Anyway, the story apparently centers around their uneasy relationship with each other, particularly when they both become attracted to the same guy. The guy is played by Mark Dennison."

"The guy who used to play the quarterback on that stupid-ass TV show about high school football?" Jake asked.

"That's him," Janice confirmed. "He's quite popular among that particular demographic as well."

"I heard he's a dick smoker," Matt said. "Is that true?"

"Well... yes, he is a homosexual, but that's a Hollywood secret. Don't go saying anything about that to any reporters you encounter."

"It ain't a very well-kept secret if Matt knows about it," Jake said.

Janice was starting to get flustered. "Look, you guys," she said. "This is a high society event you're attending here. Some of the elite of Hollywood will be there. Now just watch the movie and then we'll go into the lobby where a cocktail party has been set up. Try to mind your P's and Q's as much as possible, okay?"

"They gonna have any good blow at this party?" Matt asked.

"How about the bar?" Jake asked. "Are the drinks free, or do we have to pay for them?"

Janice sighed, already trying to figure out how big of a disaster this was going to be.

The limousine pulled up in front of the theater and the three of them emerged into a sea of onlookers. There were dozens of photographers and videographers stationed just on the other side of a purple velvet rope that separated the walkway into the theater from the sidewalk. Flashbulbs began to explode all around them, effectively blinding them as they made they way to the doors. Jake could hear astonished whispers as the crowd asked themselves if that was really Jake Kingsley and Matt Tisdale. A few of the reporters shouted questions at them but they overlapped each other to the point where they could understand nothing being said.

Two doormen were guarding the entrance. They asked for no passes or tickets from any of them. They simply greeted them all by name, including Janice, and stepped aside, allowing entry. Jake was so flash-blinded that it took a few moments for his vision to clear enough for him to make out the details of the room. When it did, he whistled in appreciation.

"Holy shit," Matt said. "Look at this fucking place."

"No shit," Jake agreed.

The entire lobby was covered in plush red carpet. Hors d'oeuvre tables covered in silk tablecloths were located in several strategic locations and featured a large variety of appetizers, everything from escargot to expensive salami and cheese to stuffed mushrooms. The smell alone was intoxicating. On the far side of the room a large bar had been set up (the drinks were indeed free, according to Janice, but they had been instructed to "please go easy"). Circulating through the crowd were two lovely young women in cocktail dresses. They carried trays upon which glasses of champagne were sitting. And everywhere were men in tuxedos and elegantly dressed and made-up women, most of them beautiful. Nor was that even the most amazing thing. A sizeable portion of the people were celebrities. Jake saw a multitude of actors and actresses he had seen in television shows and on movies. They were circulating around, sipping from champagne or mixed drinks, talking and hugging and giving fake little cheek kisses to each other. He stared from place to place in wonder, marveling over the fact that many of the actors looked much smaller than they did on screen.

"Oh man," Matt said, his eyes flitting from place to place. "We have got to score ourselves some pussy at this place, Jake. I need to tap me an actress. Talk about the fuckfest coup of the century."

"Matt," Janice warned, "you are not here for cheap fornication. This is a very public event."

"Oh don't worry, Janice," he said. "We'll be sure to fuck privately."

"Oh sweet Lord," Janice muttered, and then closed her mouth as a middle-aged woman in a hideous-looking strapless dress approached them.

"Janice," she said, holding out her hands for a hug. "How are you doing, darling? Thank you so much for coming."

As Janice and the woman hugged and exchanged one of the fake cheek kisses, Matt turned to Jake and asked, "Who the fuck is that?"

Jake shrugged.

"This, is Georgette Minden," Janice said, shooting them a look. "She is Mindy Snow's agent and one of the hosts of this premier."

"Ahhh," Matt said. "I see. How you doing? Nice shindig you got going here."

"You would have to be Matt Tisdale," Georgette said, stepping forward and giving him a hug and a fake kiss. "I'm very glad you could show up tonight, Mr. Tisdale."

"Like I had a choice," Matt muttered.

"Matt," Janice hissed.

Georgette ignored this exchange. Instead, she turned to Jake. "And you, of course, are the somewhat infamous Jake Kingsley."

"That's me," Jake agreed, submitting to her as she pushed her ample bosom into his chest and made a smacking noise near his left ear.

"You know, Mindy is a big fan of your music," Georgette told them. "She absolutely adores you."

"Oh yeah?" Matt asked, a twinkle starting in his eye.

"Of course, we don't announce that to the public," Georgette said. "It would be bad for her image."

"Of course," Jake said.

"Anyway, why don't you all follow me and meet the stars of the show?"

"Why the fuck not?" Matt said.

The three stars in question were standing near the back of the room, just adjacent to the entrance of the actual theater. Mark Dennison was a handsome, exquisitely fit young man with capped teeth and a prize-winning smile. He was decked out in a custom fit tuxedo and wore a Rolex watch on his wrist. Mindy Snow and Veronica Julius, both of whom were wearing expensive and elaborate formal dresses, flanked him. Mindy's dress was very conservative, almost borderline prudish. It was light blue and completely covered her shoulders. Only the smallest amount of her ample bosom was showing. Veronica, on the other hand, was wearing a skimpy red dress that left very little to the imagination. Her back was bare, her breasts were nearly falling out of it, and her legs — clad in black nylon — were exposed well past the knees.

"They're certainly keeping up with their images, aren't they?" Jake whispered as they approached.

"Well, naturally," Georgette said. "Image is everything in Hollywood."

The introductions were made and handshakes were exchanged all around.

"I'm really glad you guys could come," Mindy told them. "I just love your music." She blushed a little. "Especially your voice, Jake."

"Uh... thanks," Jake said. "I'm glad I could entertain you."

"I think you guys are fabulous too," Dennison told them. "I own all of your albums."

"We only have one album, dude," Matt said sourly.

Dennison actually giggled. "Of course you do," he said. "And a great one it is."

Matt took a step away from him, and a step closer to Veronica, who he had been eyeing ever since she came into view. "How about you, Ronnie?" he asked. "Can I call you Ronnie?"

"No, you may not," she said, glaring at him.

"Forgive me," Matt said. "But do you listen to our music too?"

"I don't listen to music," she said. She turned to a woman who was hovering nearby. "Callie, get me a drink, will you? Scotch on the rocks."

"Of course, Ms. Julius," the woman said. "Coming right up."

"Six ice cubes," she called after her. "No more, no less."

"Yes, Ms. Julius. Six ice cubes."

Janice spoke up at that point and thanked them for the invite. She then led the two musicians away.

"Bye, guys," Mindy called after him as he went. "It was nice meeting you."

Jake looked over his shoulder and gave her a smile.

"What a fuckin' cunt that Veronica bitch is," Matt said when they were out of earshot.

"Matt, please keep your voice down," Janice hissed. "This place is crawling with print reporters. If they overhear you saying something like that it will be all over the tabloids tomorrow morning."

"Right," Matt returned, sounding anything but sincere.

One of the champagne girls came by and offered them all a glass. Janice and Jake declined but Matt took one.

"Is this the good shit?" Matt asked her.

She looked a little taken aback but answered politely. "It's Dom Perignon," she said. "Chilled to precisely forty-six degrees."

"Yeah?" Matt asked. With that, he swallowed the entire glass at a gulp. His eyes watered and he released a wet burp that resonated throughout the immediate vicinity. He pounded his chest a few times. "Not bad," he said. "That is some pretty good hooch." He set the glass back on her tray and walked off towards the bar while Jake smirked in amusement and Janice suppressed an expression of horror.

"Hey, Jeeves," Matt said to the tuxedoed bartender. "Set me up with a Jack and Coke, and don't be chintzy on me with the Jack."

"Right away, sir," he replied. He then looked at Jake. "And you, sir?"

"Rum and Coke," Jake said.

"What kind of rum would you prefer?"

"The most expensive you got," Jake said.

"Of course," the bartender said. He reached down below the bar and produced two glasses.

"No fuckin' way," Matt told him. "That simply will not do."

"Excuse me?" the bartender asked.

"Those glasses ain't big enough. I'll drink something that size in about fifteen seconds. Bust out the water glasses, homey. I want a fuckin' drink, not a shooter."

"Oh my God," Janice moaned. "Matt, this is not the local watering hole. This is a high society party."

"Then these pricks don't know how to drink," Matt said. "Fire me up, Jeeves. Just the way I asked."

He fired them up, taking down two water glasses, filling them with ice, and then concocting an alcohol to coke mixture with a ratio of about fifty-fifty. "Will these meet your requirements, sir?" he asked Matt when he was done.

"Bet your ass," Matt replied. He turned to Janice, who was still flushing in embarrassment. "Don't just stand there, Janice. Give the man a tip. A big one."

Janice kept her lips tightly pursed but did as she was told. She dug a five-dollar bill out of her purse and dropped it in the bartender's tip jar.

"Thank you, sirs," he said, assuming, as Matt had already figured out, that Janice was their servant.

"Matt," Janice chastised once they were away from the bar, "you simply must maintain some composure here."

"What the fuck for?" he asked. "Aren't we supposed to be a bunch of boozing, drug addict, Satanist badasses? I'm only acting the part."

"You're overacting," she said. "This is not the place for such shenanigans."

"Okay," he said. "Sorry. I'll try to maintain."

"Thank you," she said.

He looked around, as if scoping out the crowd. "So," he asked. "Where can we burn?"

"Burn?" Janice asked.

"Yeah," Matt said. "Me and Jake need to toke up one of these joints I brought."

Janice paled. "You brought marijuana here?"

"Of course," he said. "We're gonna watch a movie, ain't we? I don't ever watch movies without being stoned."

"You can't smoke marijuana here," Janet told him. "Go in the bathroom right now and flush it down the toilet!"

"The bathroom," Matt said. "What a brilliant idea. Thanks, Janice."

"What?" Janice said.

The other one of the champagne girls was passing by. Matt grabbed her arm. "Hey, beautiful," he said.

"Would you care for some champagne, sir?" she asked.

"Uh... sure," Matt said. He took a glass from her tray, quickly downed it, belched again, and then set it back down. "Thanks. But I what I really wanted is for you to tell me where the shitter is."

The champagne girl pursed her lips for the briefest of seconds before answering. "The... uh... men's facilities are located over there." She pointed. "Just down that hallway."

"Thanks, sweetie," Matt said, giving her a little pat on the butt. "Come on, Jake. Let's go burn one."

Jake was suppressing his laughter by now. "You bet," he said. "Let's do it."

"Jake, Matt," Janice hissed. "You can't... I mean... come back here!"

"We'll be back," Jake told her. "Have yourself a drink while we're gone."

The men's restroom was sparkling clean and smelled of lemons. Three tuxedoed men were standing around the sink as they entered, taking turns snorting cocaine from a small mirror. Jake recognized two of them: Michael Quinn, a teen heartthrob who had starred in numerous tough guy flicks, and Anthony Rentworst, a renowned director of such teen heartthrob movies. None of the three even looked up when the two musicians entered the room.

"Wassup, homies?" Matt asked them. "Got any spare blow for me and Jake here?"

Three identical looks of contemptuous disgust met this question. "No," said Quinn. "I think not."

Matt nodded. "I know how it is," he said. "The shit's expensive. You can't be sharing it with just anybody."

"Right," Quinn said. He turned back to the mirror and snorted his fill.

"Pricks," Matt muttered under his breath. With that, he reached into the jacket pocket of his suit and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. He opened the box and removed a tightly rolled joint — a fat one. He put it in his mouth, put the cigarettes back in his pocket, and then pulled out a lighter that he used to spark up the joint. He took a tremendous and quite noisy hit.

The actor, the director, and the unknown person with them (we was Conner Bergman, another famous actor that neither Jake nor Matt recognized) all turned towards them as they heard the inhalation and smelled the pungent odor of the Humboldt Skunk Bud being burned. Their mouths dropped open in shock.

"You guys want a hit?" Matt squeaked, still holding the smoke in his lungs. "I'm not a Bogart."

They didn't answer. Keeping the look of shock and revulsion on their faces, they quickly gathered up their mirror, their straw, and their little silver box and made a beeline for the bathroom door. They didn't let it hit them in the ass on the way out.

"Fuckin' squares," Matt said as he passed the joint to Jake.

Jake took it but was laughing too hard to take a hit just yet. "You're fuckin' killing me, Matt," he said. "Oh shit. This is the most fun I've had since we went to that truck stop and you kicked Hathaway's ass."

They emerged from the restroom five minutes later, both of them reeking of skunk bud and red in the eyes, but in the proper mood for viewing a movie.

Even stoned, the movie wasn't very good. It was as predictable as the sunrise, full of lame clichés, and suffered from a myriad of plot holes and suspension of disbelief problems. About the only redeeming quality it featured was the two actresses who starred in it. They really were talented at their trade and the strained and sometimes violent interaction between them came across as the most genuine aspect of the entire production. And they were both quite alluring in starkly contrasting ways. Mindy's character was cute and cuddly, syrupy sweet. The kind of girl who would like puppies and holding hands at sunset, who would wear a promise ring and actually keep the promise. Veronica's character was sultry and tempting, foul-mouthed, a risqué dresser, a girl who thought nothing of giving it up on a first date, or even before a first date. Of course, the predictable aspect of the movie guaranteed that Mindy's character was the one who ultimately ended up with Mark Dennison's character. And, of course, the Veronica character was shown the consequences of the lifestyle she was leading (in the form of an AIDS scare she got when a former lover told her he had tested positive) and vowed to become more like the Mindy character. And of course all three of them became the best of friends and shared a group hug in the end, this despite the fact that the Veronica character had slept with the Mark Dennison character while he was the Mindy character's boyfriend and the Mark character had thought, for a short time, that he might have AIDS because of this.

The audience either didn't notice the film's shortcomings or pretended not to. Everyone applauded wildly when the closing credits began to roll. They even gave a standing ovation. And afterward, when they filtered back out into the lobby and began to sip from their drinks and munch on the appetizers, nobody had anything but praise for the film, especially when in earshot of one of the stars.

Once most of the party-goers had filtered through and congratulated all the cast members who were present, Mindy drifted across the room until she was standing next to Jake and Matt, who were in the process of sipping from their fourth drinks and annihilating the salami and cheese table.

"Hi, guys," she said brightly, her chocolate brown eyes shining in that innocent and endearing way. "What did you think of the film? Did you like it?"

"It was uh... not bad, overall," Jake said. "Your acting was superb."

"Thank you," she said, blushing a little. "And what about the storyline? Just 'not bad'?"

"Well, I'm sure the writers worked very hard on it," Jake said.

"I was disappointed," Matt said from around a mouthful of food.

"Oh?" Mindy asked. "Why is that?"

"There wasn't a single bare titty in the whole flick," he said. "There wasn't even an ass shot."

Mindy giggled. "Is that how you rate your movies, Matt?" she asked. "By how many nudity scenes are in them?"

"Fuckin' aye," he said. "I can't give a flick a thumbs-up unless they show some ass, tits, or gash."

"I'll keep that in mind for my next film," she said, smiling.

"You do that," Matt told her. "In fact, you and Veronica should think about doing a dyke-out scene. I bet that would get you a sold-out opening weekend."

"I'm sure you're right," she said. "But that wouldn't maintain my sweet innocent image very well, would it?"

"True," Matt agreed, "but what a way to let it die."

She took a sip from the mineral water she was drinking. "I heard you guys smoked some pot in the men's room," she said. "Is that true?"

"Well, you have your image to maintain, and we have ours," Jake replied.

She laughed, reaching out and slapping lightly at Jake's arm. "You guys are refreshing," she said. "These parties are so boring sometimes. Everyone is such a phony."

Matt suddenly stepped up to her, a serious expression on his face. "Tell me something, Mindy," he said.

"What's that?"

"Is there a chance in hell of my scoring with you tonight?"

She blushed again but held his gaze. "No," she said. "I'm a good girl, remember?"

"Yeah, I remember. How about Veronica? She was a bitch to me earlier, but maybe it was part of her act. Think I can score with her?"

"Well," she said. "How to put this? Veronica is more into... oh, you know... the softer things in life, if you know what I mean."

"You mean she's a dyke?" Matt asked.

"Women are her preference," Mindy said. "Although she's not above sleeping with a man if he can do something for her career. Can you do anything for her career?"

"Her career? No."

"Then you have no chance," Mindy said.

Matt shrugged. "Oh well. It was a nice dream." He brightened as he thought of something. "Hey," he said to Mindy, "you know these people. Tell me what actress I can score with tonight."

"Hmmm," Mindy said, looking around the room. Finally she pointed out a tall, willowy blonde in short black dress. "Her," she said.

"Isn't that Tana Kensington?" he asked. Tana Kensington was another former television star who was trying to make the jump to the big screen. She had played one of the supporting characters in Thinner Than Water — the Veronica character's best friend.

"That's her," she confirmed. "She's got quite the reputation among those of us on the inside."

"Yeah?"

"Yes indeed," Mindy assured him. "My guess is you would find her quite receptive to your advances."

"Well off I go then," Matt said. He quickly downed the rest of his drink, left the empty glass on the side of the appetizer table, and headed that way. Since Janice was off talking to the producer of the film and since Georgette was off schmoozing some people of her own, this left Jake and Mindy relatively alone together. She made no move to excuse herself.

"Is that true, what you told him?" Jake asked her.

"I hardly ever lie," Mindy replied, flashing him her smile again.

"Because it doesn't fit your image?" he asked.

"Exactly."

"And does your real personality reflect your image?" Jake asked.

She giggled. "I like to think so," she said. "I grew up in a small town in Nebraska, raised by church-going parents who loved me. I used to sing in the school choir and act in the school plays. I played Annie in my junior high class play."

"I'm sure you were a very beautiful Annie," he told her.

She shrugged shyly. "We got good reviews, especially me. I tried not to let it go to my head. I still don't."

"Well I must say that you're quite refreshing too."

"No sense getting too much of an ego," she said. "If you're good at what you do then you're good at what you do. I know I'm good so I don't have to over-inflate myself to prove it."

"You are a very talented actress," he said. "And you're cute as can be on top of it."

This brought another blush to her face. "And what about you?" she asked. "You asked me about my image. Does your image reflect your real personality?"

He laughed. "I don't think anybody could live up to my image," he said.

"So you're not a Satan worshiping pagan?"

"Nope, not this week."

"And you're not a cocaine addicted sex maniac?"

"Well... I'm not a cocaine addict," he said.

She giggled. "And the sex maniac part?"

"Uh... well, it depends on what your definition of 'maniac' is."

She giggled again. Their talk turned a bit more serious. They swapped anecdotes about life on the road as a musician and about life as a sit-com star and then a movie star. The stories Jake told her were the tamer ones. He avoided references to groupies or drugs or the exploitation. The stories she told were of a similar vein, centering on fussy directors, practical jokes between cast members, and the basic routine of filming. As they conversed, Jake found himself awed by the fact he was actually standing here and talking to Mindy Snow — the Mindy Snow. And not only was he talking to her, there seemed to be a connection of some sort taking place. Her beautiful brown eyes were flirting gently with him as she spoke. She continually twirled a lock of her rich brunette hair as she listened.

She's interested in you, his mind kept insisting. A movie star is actually interested in you. Though his self-esteem had certainly improved over the years — particularly over the last two years as his music career took off — he still had a hard time listening to this part of his mind. She's a movie star, the more cynical portion of his brain whispered. And a sweet and innocent one at that. Why would she want anything to do with a longhaired musician with a reputation for ass-crack snorting?

"So, when are you going to make another album?" she asked.

"We'll be hitting the recording studio next month some time," he replied. "We're having a little spat with the label over some of the tunes, but I think that'll work itself out pretty soon."

"Will it?"

He smiled. "Yes, I think it will."

"That's good," she said brightly. "It's such a bummer when people don't get along, isn't it?"

"Indeed it is," he agreed, his heart lurching a bit more as she did a particularly aggressive twirl of her hair.

"So tell me," she said. "What do you do with yourself these days... since... you know... you're not in the studio?"

"They have us flying all over the country making public appearances."

"Oh yeah," she said. "I caught you on Wake Up USA the other morning. That man was so mean to you."

"Yeah," he said. "Its not up there among my fondest memories, that's for sure."

"I can relate to the whole publicity thing," she said. "This is only the first premier party we'll be doing. I get tomorrow off and then we do one in a different city every day until the movie is actually released to the public next Saturday."

"Yeah, I guess you can relate all right," he agreed.

"However, I'll have some free time when I get back."

"Oh?"

"Uh huh," she said softly. She began to blush again, her eyes dropping to the floor. "Maybe... you know... when I get back, you and I could... oh... you know... go out sometime."

It took him a moment to credit what he had heard. Go out? What did she mean by that? Surely she wasn't talking about a date, was she?

He didn't get a chance to find out. Before he could even open his mouth, Georgette appeared as if by magic. Her face was scowling.

"Mindy," she said, her voice low but authoritative. "I think its time to start mingling a little more. You've been talking to Mr. Kingsley an awful long time."

"Oh, Georgette," Mindy said with a sigh. "We were having a really cool conversation."

"That was quite obvious by the way you were smiling and cooing and eye batting and hair twirling," Georgette said. "For God's sake, Mindy, there are reporters here. You can't be seen together with... him. It could destroy your image." She looked at Jake. "Uh... no offense, of course."

"Of course," he said sourly.

"Georgette, that's not very nice," Mindy said.

"I'm not paid to be nice," she replied. "I'm paid to look after you. Now come on. I fear you've already given them far too much to speculate about." She grabbed Mindy by the arm and began to gently tug her away. "Come on. Let's get you out of here."

Mindy was pouting but she allowed herself to be led away. As she went she took one last look over her shoulder. "Bye, Jake," she said. "Nice talking to you."

A second later she merged into the crowd and disappeared from sight. It wasn't more than a minute before a reporter approached Jake to ask what he and Mindy had been talking about.

"Where did you get the idea that our conversation was any of your business?" Jake asked her.

"The people have a right to know," she told him in all seriousness.

Jake opened and closed his mouth a few times, on the verge of saying several profane and inflammatory things. But in the end his better judgment kicked in. He said nothing and walked away.

Matt ended up leaving in the company of Tana Kensington thirty minutes later, a battalion of cameras clicking and flashing away as they walked hand in hand through the door and climbed into Tana's limousine.

"He can't do that," Janice cried to Jake. "He didn't even check with me first!"

"Check with you?" Jake asked.

"The gossip magazines will all be reporting on this tomorrow. Oh this is just terrible. We'll have to come up with a statement about how they're just friends... and no one is going to believe it."

Jake sighed. "Can we go now?" he asked.

"Leave? Now? It's so early. They haven't even cut the cake yet."

"If we don't leave in the next five minutes I'm going to pick up on one of the champagne girls and bang her in the bathroom."

That made Janice suddenly very agreeable. She made the arrangements for their limo to come to the front of the building and then the two of them went to say their official goodbyes to the hostess and the stars. Veronica remained coolly polite as Jake shook her hand. Mark Dennison tried to score some tickets for the next Intemperance concert — a concert that wasn't even scheduled yet. Georgette had a look of warning in her eyes but said nothing. Mindy was smiling a little and sending warm messages with her eyes. When Jake shook hands with her he felt something pressed into his hand. When he got back into the limo he waited until Janice — who was still fretting about all the exploits her two charges had engaged in this night — was mixing herself a stiff drink. He opened his palm and looked to see what Mindy had slipped him. It was a cocktail napkin, folded into a small square. He opened it and saw, written in spiky, feminine handwriting: 479-1647. My personal number. Call me Sunday if you want to talk some more.

He called her Sunday afternoon. She answered on the first ring. They talked for more than an hour and made plans to try to arrange a circumspect date the following week. When Jake finally hung up he was in the best mood he'd been in for months.

"How'd you do with Tana?" Jake asked Matt in the limo as they drove towards the National Records Building Monday morning.

Matt made a snort of disgust. "One of the crappiest fucks I've ever had — possibly the crappiest. She didn't do nothin' but get on her back and lay there. She didn't make any noise, didn't move the whole time. I had to feel her fuckin' pulse to make sure she was still alive."

"No shit?" Jake asked, somewhat disillusioned. He had assumed that a Hollywood actress would be outstanding in the sack.

"It sucked ass," he said. "It's like she thought she was doin' me a favor by letting me in her sacred clam. I got fed up with it after a few minutes."

"Yeah? What did you do?" Jake asked, knowing that when Matt got fed up he always did something.

"I pulled my shit out of her snatch and nutted all over her face and that pretty blonde hair she was so fuckin' fond of."

"And what did she do?"

"She started screaming about her make-up and her hair and ran into the bathroom. And then, just as I was finishing up dressing she came out with a blow drier and started hitting me with it. I was forced to make a strategic withdrawal from the building."

Jake laughed. "That's just so you, Matt."

"Ain't it though?"

They made more idle conversation but stayed well away from the subject of the meeting they were on their way to. It was assumed (quite correctly in fact) that the limousine drivers were all record company spies. It was only when they were actually in the elevator heading up that the subject was discussed.

"So you're absolutely sure about this shit, right?" Matt asked.

"As sure as I can be," Jake said. "It's a simple equation. We don't have much to lose. They, on the other hand, have a lot to lose."

"I guess," Matt said, a little bit of doubt leaking through.

"Trust me on this," Jake said. "It'll work. The important thing is that we stand firm, no matter what."

"No matter fucking what," Matt said.

They entered the conference room and found the same players as before, all of them looking solemn and more than a little arrogant. The two musicians were invited to sit and were offered cocaine and a drink, which they politely declined. Acardio, acting as chairman, passed a few preliminaries and then launched right into his attack.

"I must say," he said, "that your behavior at the premier of Thinner Than Water was reprehensible."

"Reprehensible?" Matt asked. "That's a pretty strong word."

"Yeah," Jake agreed. "I think it was more in the category of dreadful, or maybe appalling at the very worst."

Acardio began to fume early today. "Don't play word games with me," he told them. "You embarrassed this record company and threatened the good will that exist between our organization and the movie industry. I cannot allow behavior like that to go unchecked."

"Well check it then," Jake said. "Stop sending us to shit like that and we can't embarrass you."

"Public appearances for album publicity are part of your job," Acardio said. "You will go where we tell you to go and you will behave the way we tell you to behave."

Jake shrugged. "You do have the right to send us to those things," he said. "But that last part — about how we have to behave the way you say — well, you're wrong about that one."

"What?" Acardio said, his face turning red now.

"It doesn't say anywhere in our contract that we have to behave in a certain manner. In fact, that subject is pretty much wide open."

"Have you been talking to that sister of yours again?" Acardio asked. "Is she filling your head with more of her lies and misinformation?"

The subject of Pauline's interpretations of their contract had come up before. Acardio and members of the legal department had gone to great lengths to try to discredit her and her advice.

"She's filling my head with knowledge and facts," Jake said. "But that's only on the main subject we've come to discuss today. On the subject of our behavior at public events, I didn't need her advice. We're just a bunch of wild and crazy guys, Max. You're the one who pushed that image, remember? So you gotta figure it's a public relations crapshoot when you send us to one of those things."

"Are you threatening us?" Acardio demanded. "Because if you are..."

"I'm just pointing out a reality to you, Max. Of course we might be inclined to mind our manners a bit more if we were treated with a little more respect."

"He is trying to threaten you," Janice said.

"Jake, this is a bad idea," Shaver spoke up. "You're way out of your league here."

Acardio ignored the rest of the speakers. He just continued to stare at Jake. "Is this your little game, Jake?" he asked. "Is this what your sister told you to do? Well she really is a shyster if she thought that having you act up at a party was going to prevent you from fulfilling the contractual obligations you made. Sorry. You lose this round, boys." He reached into his briefcase and took out the music packets. He slid one to Jake and one to Matt. They were smaller than they'd been last week, only six pages instead of almost twenty. "You've lost your privileges of picking which songs you want. I've decided for you. You will rehearse and record Embrace of Darkness, Loss of Control, and Evil Times, in that order. I want preliminary efforts on tape by the end of the month."

Matt and Jake looked at each other. Slowly they picked up the music packets and ripped them in half. They then ripped the halves in half. They then ripped the quarters in half. They threw the pieces up into the air, allowing them to come drifting down like snow over the conference table.

"How dare you," Acardio said. "You will not defy me like this."

"We just did, Maxie," Matt said.

"You are doing those songs!" he yelled. "That is final!"

"We are not doing those songs," Jake said. "And that is final."

"Then you are in breach of contract!" Acardio yelled.

"No, not really," Jake said.

"What?" several voices asked at once.

Jake smiled. "Nowhere does it say that 'the label' can compel us to record any particular song. Now once we've recorded a song, any song, it does become your property and at that point you can order us to perform it live, or make a video out of it, or you can let some movie maker use it in his shitty-ass flick, or you can even let some other rock band do a cover of it. There's nothing we can do to stop you in any of those things once a song is recorded. But you cannot force us to record something we do not wish to do. And we flat out refuse to record or perform any song that we have not written and approved of ourselves."

"You idiots," Acardio said. "You are once again operating on bad advice. True, you can technically refuse to record these songs, but we, 'the label', have the right to refuse any song you present to us. We will simply refuse everything you present except for those three songs. And if you don't have a full compliment of songs that are acceptable to us by the specified date — which is fast-approaching, I might add — then you are in breach of contract."

"I know," Jake said.

"You know?" Acardio cried. "Then what the hell are we having this discussion for? Christ, what a waste of time."

"We know," Jake went on, "and we are fully prepared to take the consequences of that."

"What?" Acardio screamed. "Are you insane? If you go breach of contract we'll sue you for everything we could have expected to make from your albums. And even the most conservative judge and jury would have to agree that that figure is in the tens of millions for the length of the contract you're under. You would be giving any money you ever made to us for the rest of your miserable lives."

"And, Jake," Shaver said, "if you go breach you wouldn't be able to work as musicians in any capacity until this contract would have expired."

"Ahh," Jake said. "So what you're saying is that if we breach our contract, we'll end up in menial jobs and wouldn't be making much money for you to take away from us?"

"That is irrelevant," Acardio said. "We'll take every penny from you even if you're working as a shithouse cleaner."

"Which is likely what we'd be doing if we couldn't work as musicians," Jake said. "What's minimum wage these days?"

"About three bucks an hour," Matt replied.

"That's not much," Jake said. "You wouldn't be making much money off us that way, Max."

"We don't care," Acardio said. "We'll take all your money just for the principle of it. Don't think we won't."

"I have no doubt you're shitheaded enough to do exactly that," Jake said. "But you're missing the point I'm trying to make. If you force us to go breach of contract, you'll be getting six thousand, maybe eight thousand apiece out of us for the next year, right? That's about fifty grand at best."

"I told you, we don't care," Acardio said. "It's the principal of the thing."

"Uh huh, but isn't your main principle to make money for your corporation?"

"What?" Acardio asked.

"We're not asking too terribly much here," Jake said. "We're asking that we not be told to perform some crappy music that you think is good for our image. We only want our own songs on the Intemperance label and believe me, Max, we will stand firm on this. Now if you accept three more songs from that recording we made, we'll be in the studio on time and we'll have our next album out by November. If that happens, you'll make a little more than fifty thousand dollars from us next year, won't you?"

"This isn't going to work, Jake," Acardio said. "We'll breach you before we allow you to start dictating terms to us."

Jake shrugged. "Then I guess you'll have to breach us," he said. "You've heard our terms. Give us a call when you're ready to accept them."

"That will be never," Acardio told them. "You will do our songs or your career is over!"

Jake and Matt stood up.

"Then I guess our career is over, isn't it?" Matt said.

Despite the threats and pleas, they walked out the door, not looking back. Five minutes later they were in their limo, heading for their respective homes.