Chapter Thirty-Two – It’s Raining Trouble
Guys and gals, did you know that we have a rockstar in the making hanging around our campus? He’s not a student, which possibly-slash-probably says something about certain abilities of the said character, but you’ve seen plenty of him. Yes, that’s right, you’ve guessed it! We’re talking about Jamie Vayne and what seems to be a meteoric rise for his wannabe career as a musician. Meteoric as in climbing high fast and crashing down just as quickly. Talking about rock… we mean, talking about hitting rock bottom!
A certain reality show called LiveFeed is presenting our resident gigolo as some sort of winner material, but we beg to differ. His music is mid AF, if you know what we mean, just like the rest of him.
However, it appears that he’s striving to find a way out of mediocrity by expanding his horizons when it comes to sex partners and adventuring down a less explored path.
Forgive us for the grainy picture. We swear that we wish we could have better quality evidence to present to you why Jamie Vayne is such a phobic when it comes to commitment. Apparently, he cannot get over certain queer – and we mean it in the actual sense of the term – obsessions.
What’s Jamie doing in the attached pic, you may ask? Apparently, he’s shamelessly pawing a furry! Yes, that’s right. Stop shaking the goods, gay boys of Sunny Hill, if you don’t have a tail attached, it doesn’t count. No wonder Jamie can’t get it up – emotionally speaking – for you when he’s stuck in his childhood, when he was playing with plushies. Are you still surprised he’s immature and irresponsible? For him, if you’re not wrapped in a huge fluffy costume to make him believe he’s embracing an enormous rabbit, you’re seriously lacking.
No offense to the furry community. Peace out.
***
He was fuming. His hands were trembling as he reached for his phone.
“Who the fuck gave you the right to use Xpress for your shitty fantasies?” he hissed before his brother even had the time to say ‘hello’.
“Would you mind expunging that gutter language? I find it disgusting,” Wen replied right away.
“I don’t give a fuck,” he growled into the phone. “How dare you?”
“Wait a minute, why are you getting your panties in a twist? Ugh, you’re making me use such clichés that it makes my skin crawl just thinking about it.”
“How can you ask such a stupid thing? You left Xpress in my care. Just the other day, you were telling me that you outgrew that phase. Or is your memory as shitty as your manners?”
“Slow down, lil’ bro. I don’t see what the problem is. You were slacking on the job, so I stepped up to the plate and took a swing for you. I’ve done that so many times I’ve lost count. You didn’t use to be so bothered about my helping you out of your too-frequent writer’s block.”
“The fact that I told you I wouldn’t write again about Jamie Vayne doesn’t equal that I have writer’s block, dammit!” He squeezed the phone in his hand so tightly, he might just crush it. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he decided that there was no need to get so upset. First, he needed to find his brother’s motivation to publish that silly pic and, most importantly, he needed to discover how Wen had gotten his paws on it. Was his sibling following him around? Did he know who was hiding inside that furry costume? The problem was that he hadn’t taken that pink rabbit costume out for a drive in a while, which meant that the photo was weeks old.
“Hearst, darling,” his brother drawled, “tell your big bro why you’re so upset. So Jamie is getting freaky with some other freak. Why is that bothering you?”
From all of the signs and appearances, it seemed that Wen had no idea his own sibling was dressing up as a rabbit and prancing around the Sunny Hill campus at night. That was one reason to feel relieved, but Wencel had a penchant for looking and sounding innocent only to bring down the axe upon an unaware neck the next second.
“Where did you get that photo?”
“No journalist worth their salt or ink, if you like that better, is going to divulge their sources.”
“Shut up, you have no sources. Just your own troubled mind,” Hearst accused.
“Fine, I took it myself. Happy now?”
“When did you take it? Come on, spill everything.”
“I don’t have to tell you everything. Or anything. And you sound very suspicious, you know? Is that weird furry a friend of yours? Are you protecting his relationship with Jamie? Damn, Hearst, if that’s the case, then you should be right in the thick of things. Come on, give me all the juicy details.”
This could be a trap. He needed to think and proceed with caution. He had called his brother, filled with righteous rage after seeing the Xpress page first thing in the morning. But if he wasn’t careful, his brother would catch him in his lies, and then, it would go badly for him.
“I don’t know who that guy is,” he said.
“So you know it’s a guy. Interesting.”
“Why wouldn’t I assume it’s a guy? You said the same thing in what you wrote,” Hearst accused.
“Did I say that?” His brother’s voice gained a sly accent. “Where exactly?”
“Somewhere in the text of the dirt you wrote.”
“I didn’t. Damn, you really are something, you know? How is it that you’re my brother? You need to always pay attention to details. I only said that Jamie is fooling around with a furry who happens to be a giant rabbit, but I never said it was a guy in that costume.”
It could very well be true. He didn’t want to go back to the text to analyze it. “Whatever. Since Jamie is gay, it was only natural I would assume that,” he justified his position.
“Weren’t you complaining about Jamie playing for both teams not so long ago? I merely continued in the same vein, dear brother.”
“Stop calling me that. It’s grating.”
“Well, it’s the truth, as disappointing as it might be for me. You don’t even have what it takes to keep a silly gossip page like Xpress going. I can’t begin to express on how sad that makes me feel. All of father’s work to get something out of you, and you turn out like this. You don’t even care about school, so I don’t get what you’re doing all day. Or, perhaps,” Wen’s voice dropped to a whisper, “are you into playing bunny with Jamie Vayne, Hearst?”
“Cut it out,” he squealed. “What sort of stupid shit are you asking me now?”
“Chill, bro, I just wanted to tease you a little. I know you don’t have the guts to get so close to your target. Or dress up as a furry to achieve your purpose. Yeah, as I was saying, too bad.” Wen let out a long-suffering sigh for show at the other end. “Also, stop getting so upset about me stepping on your turf, because I’m doing you a boatload of good. Just look at how many views you’re getting today. Really, you have no reason to complain.”
“And what good do views do?” Hearst asked cuttingly. Although his brother always had a way of turning things around to work in his favor, he wasn’t ready to leave the battlefield defeated, as much as that seemed to happen all the freaking time when he was getting into a quarrel with his older sibling.
“Are you kidding me? Attention is everything, or have you forgotten even the most basic principles I’ve been trying to teach you for ages? Gosh, you really are a hopeless case. What am I going to do with you? Obviously, not much.”
“Oh, stop it with the fake concern already. Do you want to have Xpress for yourself again? Suit yourself. I have classes to get to anyway, and lately I’ve been caring less and less about being the campus villain.”
“The campus villain? Where is that coming from?” Wen asked, seeming alarmed for the first time since the beginning of their conversation.
“What do you think people say about Xpress? Sure, they read it, but they don’t think one good thing about it. Too many times, pressured by you, I have published things that were so campy that anyone with a half-good eye could see my desperation and frustrated tears behind the letters I kept pouring onto the page.”
“What an amazing sense for the dramatic, lil’ bro. Desperation? Tears? I gave you Xpress because I wanted you to have fun and also learn something in the process. It looks like I have failed on both counts.”
“I’m glad you’re finally seeing things for what they are.”
“I was being sarcastic, but that was lost on you, apparently. Why am I not surprised?” Wen tsked in displeasure at the other end.
“Whatever. Take Xpress and shove it up your ass,” Hearst said. “I’m done with it. There are surely other ways to become a good journalist than scribbling a stupid gossip page about young people who are barely starting to figure things out in life and are bound to make mistakes.”
“What a champion for college drunks and whores everywhere. I salute you,” Wen mocked him.
“Fuck off. With all due respect, of course.”
“Okay, if that’s how you feel. I still believe that your reaction is disproportionate. All because of some furry? And Jamie Vayne? But I’m glad that you’re giving me free rein to continue writing Jamie’s story.”
Oh, fuck. That had been a miscalculation on his part. He couldn’t let his brother get even closer than he already was.
“I’m not,” he said right away. “Piss off Xpress. You just made me mad. I’ll continue to write it until I graduate. You better send out some new applications if you don’t want our folks to start wondering what the hell you’re doing, still far from getting a job. They’re supporting you, you know?”
“No need to remind me.” Finally, Wencel seemed annoyed by something that impacted him directly. “Okay. I suppose I don’t need to write Xpress for you. But, for fuck’s sake, to speak your language, get off your ass and write some new and interesting stories, because lately you’ve been slacking on the job.”
“I will. Just get off my back. And see about your own stuff. I think you have plenty of other things to think about.”
“Yeah, yeah, your concern for me is touching, what can I say?” Wen yawned into the receiver.
“Why are you so sleepy all the time? What are you doing all night long if not sleeping?”
“You know, this, that, research mainly. That’s what real journalists do.”
“Okay, whatever. As long as you’re not doing something weird.”
“Bye, Hearst. As always, it wasn’t nice talking to you.”
Should he be getting worried about his brother? Wen was definitely sounding off lately. Hearst shrugged. His brother was too much of an asshole to do something that wasn’t good for him; he always cared for no one else but number one. Thinking that he was losing sleep over being worried or anything remotely similar seemed a waste of time he could be spending otherwise.
Like going to class. He needed to focus on graduating, after all. Then, he’d see what he would do in the real world. Somehow, he didn’t think journalism was going to fit him after all.
***
“I don’t know, I just find it weird.”
That fragment of conversation floated to him, even though he’d had no interest in eavesdropping. Melinda had her head hung low as she strummed her guitar, while one of the guys they’d been jamming with before towered over her, trying to get her to see his point of view. Jamie strolled toward them, taking his time.
“Are you jealous or something, Harry?” Melinda asked in her usual gruff voice. It made her sound like a badass, and some people thought it was an act, but Jamie knew that to be her real voice. Some people were cool without even trying, he thought with a grin.
“Of that guy? Come on, tattoos and everything, he’s a bit on the nose, isn’t he?”
Jamie stopped. Now he was curious to hear more.
“What’s the deal with that?” Melinda asked. “We all have tattoos.”
“I don’t know, it’s just that he’s now involved in that stupid show, and what sort of artist – true artist, I mean – does that sort of thing?”
“I had no idea we artists,” Melinda said in a pointed tone, “are supposed to fit some list of rules. We’re the free ones. Or maybe we aren’t.”
“There is such a thing as artistic integrity,” the guy named Harry argued.
“When it comes to music, yeah,” Melinda agreed, “but not when it comes to personal choices. Plus, we could all learn something from him, don’t you think? Everyone uses social media today. He’s getting big there,” she gestured vaguely, “he’s getting people in here,” she added, waving her arm and pointing around. “After all, whether we like it or not, music is still a business. Unless you’re too enamored with the idea of being a starving artist all your life.”
“Come on, girl, I know you’re pulling my leg big time,” Harry argued. “It’s not like you to ride on someone else’s coattails. Although I think this Jamie character has no trouble riding on yours.”
Melinda noticed him approaching that very moment. Her eyebrows wiggled slightly, and her lips stretched in a wide smile. She didn’t look the least embarrassed that Jamie had overheard the exchange between her and that Harry character, and that was because she was the sort of person who always called things by their own names and no other.
Harry, on the other hand, turned on his heel and gave him a startled look. Jamie stared the guy square in the eye and he looked away.
“See you later, Melinda,” Harry said.
Melinda waved at him, her eyes trained on Jamie. “Hey, rockstar,” she said with her signature crooked smile twisting her lips, “how’s it going?”
“Well, I’m living in interesting times,” Jamie said, while giving her a hug. “It looks like those people behind the reality show have very limited views on how someone should become a star. Or a winner of their show. I can’t say I know which exactly.”
Melinda patted him on the back. “I got everyone I know to watch and upvote your shorts. The ones involving drumming, obviously.”
“Thanks, and yeah, I agree with the ‘obviously’ part.”
“On the other hand, it looks like people are getting into all that gossip about you, too,” Melinda pointed out. “I can’t stop them from doing that, as you just heard Harry saying.”
“Yeah, I know. Don’t worry, though. I have tough skin.”
“Tattooed tough skin,” Melinda said with a laugh, tracing an invisible line on his arm. “Don’t mind the haters, Jamie. There’ll always be people like that.”
Jamie looked around and scratched his head. “Am I giving you a hard time by accident? If those guys don’t want to jam with me, I know you can’t force them.”
Melinda shrugged. “I have no intention of doing so. And you’re here to jam with me, and the way I see it, they’re the ones who want to do that here, and with me. If that’s what they want, they need to pay their respects to the queen and do as they’re told.” She planted her feet firmly on the floor and assumed a regal posture with her back straight. Then, she fluttered her hand. “Kiss the pinky ring and all that.”
Yeah, she was one hell of a human being, Jamie thought as he laughed at her impersonation of a royal character. “How come you’re not more famous, Melinda?”
Another shrug was the answer. “The real question is if I want to be famous, Jamie.”
“Um, I don’t know. Doesn’t everyone want to be famous?” Jamie asked with an incredulous snort. “You know, spread the word about your music and all that. Have as many people as possible listen to your music.”
“Ah, well, my dear boy,” Melinda teased him, brushing some invisible dust from his shoulder – just a pretext to give him a good slap – “I believe you have a lot of things to learn about the music industry. You know, there were guys who had to cut their hair to fit the norm. Was it worth it?”
Jamie frowned slightly. “I don’t think I get it.”
“Oh, well, that’s a lesson you’ll have to learn on your own. I can only tell you that you shouldn’t let anyone tell you what to do or who you are. You’re no house cat, Jamie. But it looks to me a little like you wouldn’t mind getting domesticated, so you could be waiting patiently for Tuna Tuesday only so you can get fat and satisfied.”
Jamie frowned. “Hey, hey, where is that coming from? No one is getting domesticated. I’m not,” he protested right away. “And I always do what I want.”
“Okay, then,” she said, squaring her shoulders. “I’m just giving you a friendly warning. Arthur must have seen something in you if he sent you to me. But he’s a businessman, Jamie. That’s why he got you on that show. Don’t tell me you don’t want to be there. Even if you signed with them, it doesn’t mean that you can’t walk away if you choose.”
“I don’t want to walk away.” Melinda’s convoluted logic was getting a bit on his nerves. “I’m using this as an opportunity to put myself out there.”
“Sure.” She smiled at him, as she usually did, without any sort of hidden agenda. “It’s your game, Jamie. Play it the way you want to. But be aware of the truth about good intentions and yellow brick roads. I mean it.”
Jamie’s frown deepened as Melinda fiddled with her guitar. She was giving him a lesson here, and she’d been in this game for longer than he had, but he wasn’t sure he understood where she was coming from. It did give him something to think about, though.
“Well, are you here to make some music or do you want to take some selfies and pretend you’re playing?” Melinda teased him.
“Coming,” he replied loudly, shaking his head.
Music was the only thing that mattered to him. It was because of music he was putting himself on display so LiveFeed had something to post online about one of its many competitors. The game was worth it. And that was his final conclusion.
TBC
