Chapter Thirty-Three – Used to Being Used
Had Jamie gotten around to reading the last garbage piece published by Xpress? Hearst had to wonder about what went through his so-called mark’s head, because Jamie liked acting tough. Maybe it was just his wishful thinking that there was a soft core inside the sexy guy with tattoos, and he was trying to protect him for absolutely no reason.
No, but there had to be, since Hearst had seen Jamie like no one else had seen him before. He had kind eyes, and he could be a little goofy, and he didn’t take things seriously most of the time because they didn’t matter. Someone like that could easily come across as superficial, but Hearst didn’t think that.
Sure, he had stars in his eyes and was willing to see only the good in Jamie, but seeing how he had used his brain when approaching his target, there had to be truth in his overall opinion as well. If only the guy wasn’t so slippery all the time. Whenever they got close, they pulled apart. A part of the blame lay with him; after all, he had no intention of disclosing his true identity and, at this point, it was part of his survival strategy.
Xpress took delight in posting more about Jamie’s escapades with the furry creature who seemed to ignite the imaginations of the few students on campus who read that silly page regularly, although no new pictures came to light.
He had told Wen to stay away from Xpress, but his brother’s hunger for validation was just too strong. That meant only one thing – he’d have to confront Wen and tell him to his face that he wasn’t allowed to fool around as if he was still in school.
The idea of a meeting with his brother annoyed and bothered him to no end, but there was no other way. He could very well change the password for the website and leave his brother hanging, but he liked to believe that he was more honorable than that. His brother kept pestering him that he should check the number of views he was getting, so it wasn’t a bad time to see how the website was faring.
The automatic login appeared to return an error. He preferred not to get behind Xpress’s curtains from his phone, as he lived in a well-founded paranoia about having people peeking at his phone over his shoulder. This time, however, he wanted to go informed to the meeting with his brother.
Apparently, he couldn’t do that, because the system rejected his credentials over and over.
“Fuck,” he mumbled under his breath.
Well, he was honorable enough not to change the login details in order to keep his brother away from Xpress, but it looked like Wen wasn’t equally as honorable. Hearst picked up the pace as he hurried toward the pizza place where he had lured Wen with the promise of a meal.
***
“Why did you do that?” he asked directly, as soon as he plopped down in his seat across from Wen. “Don’t give me that look. I’m talking about how you changed the password to the site without consulting me first.”
Wen put down his phone and linked his fingers in front of him. He gave Hearst a sly look, while forcing himself to smile, obviously for the sake of his baby brother. “You are much in need of an intervention, lil’ bro. You’re not on top of your game. Heck, you’re not even on the bottom of your game, and that says a lot. I’m saving you from yourself, and I’m also protecting my legacy.”
“What legacy?” Hearst tugged at his jacket, without hiding his irritation. “You know there’s no one left to take over next.”
Wen pursed his lips and then popped them as if he had just made a bubblegum balloon. His quirks were getting on Hearst’s nerves more than usual. “There will always be someone willing to take over. When the time comes to pass the baton, I’ll find a way to do it.”
“I thought you left Xpress in my care.”
“Care, right.” Wen snorted and opened the menu. “Let’s get something to eat. I’m famished.”
He could be an asshole and tell Wen that he could very well order for himself and then shove the food up his ass, but he wasn’t like that. His brother was too damn crafty, and Hearst needed to approach him with care if he wanted to still have a say in the stupid shit Xpress was making public about Jamie Vayne.
***
So, Xpress was at it again. If Jamie needed any confirmation that his bunny boy couldn’t be behind that stupid gossip rag, now he had it. There was no way Cottontail could be in two places at the same time, unless he had an accomplice who followed him around. The idea of a stalker gave Jamie the creeps, because if there was no accomplice and Cottontail wasn’t the weird little dude behind Xpress, then that was an alternative he didn’t want to consider.
While Cottontail liked to dress up as an inspector that looked a lot like Sherlock Holmes, Jamie couldn’t say that he had the same inclination himself. It bothered him when things became too puzzling and, in the beginning, he had thought that it would be a piece of cake to catch Xpress with his pants down.
He’d had Cottontail in that position at his place on numerous occasions now, but it looked like he had been off the mark to believe that the gossiper and his bunny boy were one and the same person. Not that he had thought of that much lately. His head was full of so many other things, a lot more important than figuring out who was writing about him under the guise of a publication for the students of Sunny Hill.
On the other hand, he was a lot more interested in figuring out the games the people at LiveFeed were playing. Even though he had made a few calls to see if they were willing to disclose the identity of that secret hater, as Cottontail had labeled the guy with the modulated voice pretending to have been seduced and abandoned by no other than Jamie Vayne, those attempts had gotten him nowhere.
And now LiveFeed wanted him for a little meetup. Jamie assumed he was supposed to meet other contestants, although Angus and his team kept insisting that they wouldn’t pitch the participants one against each other, at least not in the traditional way established by other reality shows.
Whatever it was that they wanted, Jamie knew that he would end up being head and shoulders above the rest. He believed in his chances, because he believed himself to be authentic. And with so much fake stuff getting published online on social media and whatnot, who wouldn’t appreciate a breath of fresh air and authenticity? That was his ace in the hole and he intended to play it well.
It was a surprise to see Angus there ready to take him to the meeting place in his sports car.
“Hi.” Jamie waved, putting on his most dazzling smile. Cottontail had drilled into him that these people could smell weakness from a mile away. Therefore, he needed to be on his most nonchalant behavior to deal with such assholes. “Am I getting the royal treatment or what?”
Angus laughed and shook his hand briefly. “You are one of the best guys on LiveFeed, Jamie. Even though you could post a bit more frequently. But let’s not dwell on the little things,” the show’s producer said right away, without giving Jamie the chance to justify himself and his lack of constant posting. “We’ve arranged a surprise for you.”
“I love surprises,” Jamie said, hoping that his sarcasm was obvious from space.
Angus laughed again. Apparently, he liked to do that a lot. “That’s good. It’s good to like surprises. Let’s go. We’re going to have a lot of content from the meetup to process for later and take through post-production, so let’s not waste any more time.”
“That’s fine with me,” Jamie agreed as he climbed inside the vehicle.
The funny sensation in the pit of his stomach when Angus kicked the engine into high gear, showing what a bad driver he was, stayed with him for a while. He should ask more questions, he thought, but as soon as they were moving Angus began taking calls. At least he was keeping both hands on the wheel, but Jamie wasn’t sure he could count on Angus having his undivided attention focused on the road ahead.
It would be a short drive. Therefore, his chances of survival seemed to be relatively high.
***
He thought something was wrong with his eyes the moment they fell on the other guys who were part of the meetup. They must have gotten the wrong room; there was no way the guys working for LiveFeed were pulling such a prank on him.
Angus pushed him from behind, forcing him to enter.
“I hope you guys are comfortable, because we’re going to start rolling right about now.”
The Mitches were sitting in a semi-circle like a small, insignificant coven of witches, plopped down on beanbags and looking like they were about to sacrifice a chicken in the name of the dark arts.
Jamie had never seen himself as a chicken, let alone one that would let itself become part of an occult ceremony. “What the fuck is this?” he asked, turning toward Angus.
The producer was already on the other side on the room where Fez and his faithful bulldog aka the camera guy were. “This is reality TV, Jamie. We want to show the world the real people taking part in this competition we’ve set up. Now, please, before your shock wears off, ignore me and focus on your guys.”
“My guys?” Jamie asked, turning around with confusion written all over him. “They’re not my guys.”
Angus sighed. “The camera is already rolling, Jamie. We can and will use the material we’re getting, whether you want to cooperate or not.”
He still had his back turned away from Angus, and it was a good thing, because he was worried he might not be able to control himself if he faced the guy. The best thing he could do right now was to walk through that door with a big ‘fuck you’ addressed to LiveFeed and all the people who earned their bread by doing the dirty work that reality TV apparently entailed.
But that would be an easy win for them, and Jamie had no intention of making things easy. They would most likely bring up the violent incident between him and the Mitches. Hell, they probably hoped Jamie would want to kick these guys’ asses, this time with the camera rolling.
Well, they wanted to use him. That was nothing new to Jamie, after all and they should have known better. He offered himself up to be used on a regular basis and he was tough as nails.
They wanted a star, someone who had what it took to attract an audience. Or they wanted someone who would make a real fool of themselves. Jamie didn’t intend to give them satisfaction of either scenario.
This was his game, too. And, since Cottontail had warned him enough about these guys’ intentions, he could say he was at least half-prepared.
***
“O.M.G.” Wen rolled his eyes and grinned as he stared at his phone.
“What now?” Their little meeting dragged on and on and Hearst didn’t know how to tell his brother ‘bye’ already.
“LiveFeed really wants to make Jamie into the villain of the show. They won’t have any trouble doing so either, oh no, no trouble whatsoever.” Wen snickered and he leaned over the screen even more. To claim that he didn’t see well enough to do that would be a stretch even for a professional victim like him.
“What’s going on?” Hearst asked, trying to make his voice as bored as he could without making it sound unnatural.
“Well, you should see for yourself. Just go to their thread. It’s simulcast on several platforms. I bet you can find it.” Wen added with a smirk as he looked up from his phone, most likely to gauge Hearst’s reaction.
“I have so many things to do. I really don’t want to indulge you in your obsession with Jamie Vayne anymore. You’re the one who needs an intervention, big bro.”
“Shut up and stop looking like you’re about to run out that door.” Wen nodded at the exit behind Hearst. “I know you don’t like hearing the truth most of the time, but you’re here to hear it.”
“What truth is that, exactly?”
“The truth about Jamie Vayne,” Wen insisted. “Come on, you’re going to miss the juiciest parts if you keep whining like this. But I supposed you were made for reruns as a general rule.”
Hearst pursed his lips, reluctantly taking out his phone. He was interested in what LiveFeed had in store for Jamie, but he wasn’t crazy about watching it while his brother observed him like a hawk in search of its next prey.
***
It was called reality TV, but Angus was holding up big cue cards on which one could read words of encouragement for the Mitches to start the trouble everyone was there for.
“Hi, Jamie,” the Mitches said at the same time, in different voices ranging from mechanical to bored.
“What is this? What are you guys doing here?” Jamie started strong.
He threw a look at Angus. The next sheet was for him. Find somewhere to sit.
“I’ll stand,” Jamie said, crossing his arms.
“We are here to reconcile,” Mitch the Voice started on a high pitched note.
Were these people really thinking that their stupid show was going to be a success if they used cardboard and wooden actors? The whole scene was as far from looking and sounding real as it could possibly be.
Very well. He didn’t mind being the only real person in the room. If he did as little as breathe in the Mitches’ direction, he was sure those guys would piss their pants. They definitely looked like they were about to break into a run should Jamie show the slightest sign that he intended to hurt them and, in his opinion, such behavior wasn’t warranted by past events. Yes, he had gotten into a fight with them, but that had happened mainly because the Mitches had been gearing up for it for a long time.
Why the hell were they here? Were they trying to revive their shitty careers by trying to steal some of the spotlight from Jamie? That was one weird way to do it and had nothing to do with music. Melinda’s words were still fresh in his mind. He was doing that, too, although at first glance it had nothing to do with music. He was using the show to promote his music but wasn’t he really only promoting himself?
“There’s no need for that,” Jamie finally replied, smiling and showing as many teeth as he could. “I mean, I believe we’ve already solved our differences.”
“With your fists,” Mitch the Fiddle piped up.
“Not only mine,” Jamie countered. Wait, wasn’t he admitting to having committed something that the law might frown upon? The idea of being exposed like that for a stupid show seemed suddenly very uninspired.
“We gave and took equally,” Mitch the Bass intervened. “There are no hard feelings. That’s why we’re here, Jamie.” While Mitch the Voice was a coward, Mitch the Bass was the opposite. He didn’t usually get involved in fights, but when push came to shove he didn’t mind getting a bit of dirt in his sandwich. Of them all, Jamie had disliked him the least.
“Okay, great. I hope you don’t want us to hold hands and sing Kumbaya, okay?”
“No, but it would be great if you joined us for a bit, to show that you’re not the type to hold a grudge,” Mitch the Voice said, finally finding his lost bravado.
“Join you for what?” Jamie asked.
Angus made desperate signs for everyone to do as they were cued. The Mitches jumped to their feet and they all moved to another room, where their musical instruments waited for them.
“You want me to play with you?” Jamie asked, unsure if they really meant it.
“Yes,” Mitch the Voice said. “For the sake of old times.”
If he refused, he would look like an asshole. After all, people liked it best when the ones they chose as their heroes behaved with honor and generosity. Jamie wasn’t sure if he had a proper supply of either, but he couldn’t just leave. After all, this was his chance to show the LiveFeed audience that his music sounded great when he was part of a band. Just drumming by himself could very well seem like a lonely business. What if they thought that he couldn’t be part of a band because he wasn’t a team player or something of the sort?
He shrugged and moved to sit on the stool. Grabbing the drumsticks, he nodded at his former band members. “What do you guys want to play?”
It was no wonder Mitch the Voice chose the piece that had to be the most uninspired in their repertoire. But Jamie was here to play the good guy, so he didn’t intend to correct him or suggest they play a different song.
There was no way they could spin this in a way that made him look bad. He had avoided getting stepped on by showing that he wasn’t easy to bend, and now he proved that he had no qualms about playing with his former band members. Whatever shit show the LiveFeed producers had wanted to obtain from this little meetup just wasn’t going to happen.
The camera guy was so close to him Jamie had to pull back. “Hey, my dude, do you mind?” he asked. “I need my space.”
It took a sign from Angus and a verbal correction from Fez to make the camera guy behave. These people were so weird, Jamie thought as he rolled the drumsticks on his fingers the same way he always did.
TBC
Chapter Thirty-Three – Used to Being Used
Had Jamie gotten around to reading the last garbage piece published by Xpress? Hearst had to wonder about what went through his so-called mark’s head, because Jamie liked acting tough. Maybe it was just his wishful thinking that there was a soft core inside the sexy guy with tattoos, and he was trying to protect him for absolutely no reason.
No, but there had to be, since Hearst had seen Jamie like no one else had seen him before. He had kind eyes, and he could be a little goofy, and he didn’t take things seriously most of the time because they didn’t matter. Someone like that could easily come across as superficial, but Hearst didn’t think that.
Sure, he had stars in his eyes and was willing to see only the good in Jamie, but seeing how he had used his brain when approaching his target, there had to be truth in his overall opinion as well. If only the guy wasn’t so slippery all the time. Whenever they got close, they pulled apart. A part of the blame lay with him; after all, he had no intention of disclosing his true identity and, at this point, it was part of his survival strategy.
Xpress took delight in posting more about Jamie’s escapades with the furry creature who seemed to ignite the imaginations of the few students on campus who read that silly page regularly, although no new pictures came to light.
He had told Wen to stay away from Xpress, but his brother’s hunger for validation was just too strong. That meant only one thing – he’d have to confront Wen and tell him to his face that he wasn’t allowed to fool around as if he was still in school.
The idea of a meeting with his brother annoyed and bothered him to no end, but there was no other way. He could very well change the password for the website and leave his brother hanging, but he liked to believe that he was more honorable than that. His brother kept pestering him that he should check the number of views he was getting, so it wasn’t a bad time to see how the website was faring.
The automatic login appeared to return an error. He preferred not to get behind Xpress’s curtains from his phone, as he lived in a well-founded paranoia about having people peeking at his phone over his shoulder. This time, however, he wanted to go informed to the meeting with his brother.
Apparently, he couldn’t do that, because the system rejected his credentials over and over.
“Fuck,” he mumbled under his breath.
Well, he was honorable enough not to change the login details in order to keep his brother away from Xpress, but it looked like Wen wasn’t equally as honorable. Hearst picked up the pace as he hurried toward the pizza place where he had lured Wen with the promise of a meal.
***
“Why did you do that?” he asked directly, as soon as he plopped down in his seat across from Wen. “Don’t give me that look. I’m talking about how you changed the password to the site without consulting me first.”
Wen put down his phone and linked his fingers in front of him. He gave Hearst a sly look, while forcing himself to smile, obviously for the sake of his baby brother. “You are much in need of an intervention, lil’ bro. You’re not on top of your game. Heck, you’re not even on the bottom of your game, and that says a lot. I’m saving you from yourself, and I’m also protecting my legacy.”
“What legacy?” Hearst tugged at his jacket, without hiding his irritation. “You know there’s no one left to take over next.”
Wen pursed his lips and then popped them as if he had just made a bubblegum balloon. His quirks were getting on Hearst’s nerves more than usual. “There will always be someone willing to take over. When the time comes to pass the baton, I’ll find a way to do it.”
“I thought you left Xpress in my care.”
“Care, right.” Wen snorted and opened the menu. “Let’s get something to eat. I’m famished.”
He could be an asshole and tell Wen that he could very well order for himself and then shove the food up his ass, but he wasn’t like that. His brother was too damn crafty, and Hearst needed to approach him with care if he wanted to still have a say in the stupid shit Xpress was making public about Jamie Vayne.
***
So, Xpress was at it again. If Jamie needed any confirmation that his bunny boy couldn’t be behind that stupid gossip rag, now he had it. There was no way Cottontail could be in two places at the same time, unless he had an accomplice who followed him around. The idea of a stalker gave Jamie the creeps, because if there was no accomplice and Cottontail wasn’t the weird little dude behind Xpress, then that was an alternative he didn’t want to consider.
While Cottontail liked to dress up as an inspector that looked a lot like Sherlock Holmes, Jamie couldn’t say that he had the same inclination himself. It bothered him when things became too puzzling and, in the beginning, he had thought that it would be a piece of cake to catch Xpress with his pants down.
He’d had Cottontail in that position at his place on numerous occasions now, but it looked like he had been off the mark to believe that the gossiper and his bunny boy were one and the same person. Not that he had thought of that much lately. His head was full of so many other things, a lot more important than figuring out who was writing about him under the guise of a publication for the students of Sunny Hill.
On the other hand, he was a lot more interested in figuring out the games the people at LiveFeed were playing. Even though he had made a few calls to see if they were willing to disclose the identity of that secret hater, as Cottontail had labeled the guy with the modulated voice pretending to have been seduced and abandoned by no other than Jamie Vayne, those attempts had gotten him nowhere.
And now LiveFeed wanted him for a little meetup. Jamie assumed he was supposed to meet other contestants, although Angus and his team kept insisting that they wouldn’t pitch the participants one against each other, at least not in the traditional way established by other reality shows.
Whatever it was that they wanted, Jamie knew that he would end up being head and shoulders above the rest. He believed in his chances, because he believed himself to be authentic. And with so much fake stuff getting published online on social media and whatnot, who wouldn’t appreciate a breath of fresh air and authenticity? That was his ace in the hole and he intended to play it well.
It was a surprise to see Angus there ready to take him to the meeting place in his sports car.
“Hi.” Jamie waved, putting on his most dazzling smile. Cottontail had drilled into him that these people could smell weakness from a mile away. Therefore, he needed to be on his most nonchalant behavior to deal with such assholes. “Am I getting the royal treatment or what?”
Angus laughed and shook his hand briefly. “You are one of the best guys on LiveFeed, Jamie. Even though you could post a bit more frequently. But let’s not dwell on the little things,” the show’s producer said right away, without giving Jamie the chance to justify himself and his lack of constant posting. “We’ve arranged a surprise for you.”
“I love surprises,” Jamie said, hoping that his sarcasm was obvious from space.
Angus laughed again. Apparently, he liked to do that a lot. “That’s good. It’s good to like surprises. Let’s go. We’re going to have a lot of content from the meetup to process for later and take through post-production, so let’s not waste any more time.”
“That’s fine with me,” Jamie agreed as he climbed inside the vehicle.
The funny sensation in the pit of his stomach when Angus kicked the engine into high gear, showing what a bad driver he was, stayed with him for a while. He should ask more questions, he thought, but as soon as they were moving Angus began taking calls. At least he was keeping both hands on the wheel, but Jamie wasn’t sure he could count on Angus having his undivided attention focused on the road ahead.
It would be a short drive. Therefore, his chances of survival seemed to be relatively high.
***
He thought something was wrong with his eyes the moment they fell on the other guys who were part of the meetup. They must have gotten the wrong room; there was no way the guys working for LiveFeed were pulling such a prank on him.
Angus pushed him from behind, forcing him to enter.
“I hope you guys are comfortable, because we’re going to start rolling right about now.”
The Mitches were sitting in a semi-circle like a small, insignificant coven of witches, plopped down on beanbags and looking like they were about to sacrifice a chicken in the name of the dark arts.
Jamie had never seen himself as a chicken, let alone one that would let itself become part of an occult ceremony. “What the fuck is this?” he asked, turning toward Angus.
The producer was already on the other side on the room where Fez and his faithful bulldog aka the camera guy were. “This is reality TV, Jamie. We want to show the world the real people taking part in this competition we’ve set up. Now, please, before your shock wears off, ignore me and focus on your guys.”
“My guys?” Jamie asked, turning around with confusion written all over him. “They’re not my guys.”
Angus sighed. “The camera is already rolling, Jamie. We can and will use the material we’re getting, whether you want to cooperate or not.”
He still had his back turned away from Angus, and it was a good thing, because he was worried he might not be able to control himself if he faced the guy. The best thing he could do right now was to walk through that door with a big ‘fuck you’ addressed to LiveFeed and all the people who earned their bread by doing the dirty work that reality TV apparently entailed.
But that would be an easy win for them, and Jamie had no intention of making things easy. They would most likely bring up the violent incident between him and the Mitches. Hell, they probably hoped Jamie would want to kick these guys’ asses, this time with the camera rolling.
Well, they wanted to use him. That was nothing new to Jamie, after all and they should have known better. He offered himself up to be used on a regular basis and he was tough as nails.
They wanted a star, someone who had what it took to attract an audience. Or they wanted someone who would make a real fool of themselves. Jamie didn’t intend to give them satisfaction of either scenario.
This was his game, too. And, since Cottontail had warned him enough about these guys’ intentions, he could say he was at least half-prepared.
***
“O.M.G.” Wen rolled his eyes and grinned as he stared at his phone.
“What now?” Their little meeting dragged on and on and Hearst didn’t know how to tell his brother ‘bye’ already.
“LiveFeed really wants to make Jamie into the villain of the show. They won’t have any trouble doing so either, oh no, no trouble whatsoever.” Wen snickered and he leaned over the screen even more. To claim that he didn’t see well enough to do that would be a stretch even for a professional victim like him.
“What’s going on?” Hearst asked, trying to make his voice as bored as he could without making it sound unnatural.
“Well, you should see for yourself. Just go to their thread. It’s simulcast on several platforms. I bet you can find it.” Wen added with a smirk as he looked up from his phone, most likely to gauge Hearst’s reaction.
“I have so many things to do. I really don’t want to indulge you in your obsession with Jamie Vayne anymore. You’re the one who needs an intervention, big bro.”
“Shut up and stop looking like you’re about to run out that door.” Wen nodded at the exit behind Hearst. “I know you don’t like hearing the truth most of the time, but you’re here to hear it.”
“What truth is that, exactly?”
“The truth about Jamie Vayne,” Wen insisted. “Come on, you’re going to miss the juiciest parts if you keep whining like this. But I supposed you were made for reruns as a general rule.”
Hearst pursed his lips, reluctantly taking out his phone. He was interested in what LiveFeed had in store for Jamie, but he wasn’t crazy about watching it while his brother observed him like a hawk in search of its next prey.
***
It was called reality TV, but Angus was holding up big cue cards on which one could read words of encouragement for the Mitches to start the trouble everyone was there for.
“Hi, Jamie,” the Mitches said at the same time, in different voices ranging from mechanical to bored.
“What is this? What are you guys doing here?” Jamie started strong.
He threw a look at Angus. The next sheet was for him. Find somewhere to sit.
“I’ll stand,” Jamie said, crossing his arms.
“We are here to reconcile,” Mitch the Voice started on a high pitched note.
Were these people really thinking that their stupid show was going to be a success if they used cardboard and wooden actors? The whole scene was as far from looking and sounding real as it could possibly be.
Very well. He didn’t mind being the only real person in the room. If he did as little as breathe in the Mitches’ direction, he was sure those guys would piss their pants. They definitely looked like they were about to break into a run should Jamie show the slightest sign that he intended to hurt them and, in his opinion, such behavior wasn’t warranted by past events. Yes, he had gotten into a fight with them, but that had happened mainly because the Mitches had been gearing up for it for a long time.
Why the hell were they here? Were they trying to revive their shitty careers by trying to steal some of the spotlight from Jamie? That was one weird way to do it and had nothing to do with music. Melinda’s words were still fresh in his mind. He was doing that, too, although at first glance it had nothing to do with music. He was using the show to promote his music but wasn’t he really only promoting himself?
“There’s no need for that,” Jamie finally replied, smiling and showing as many teeth as he could. “I mean, I believe we’ve already solved our differences.”
“With your fists,” Mitch the Fiddle piped up.
“Not only mine,” Jamie countered. Wait, wasn’t he admitting to having committed something that the law might frown upon? The idea of being exposed like that for a stupid show seemed suddenly very uninspired.
“We gave and took equally,” Mitch the Bass intervened. “There are no hard feelings. That’s why we’re here, Jamie.” While Mitch the Voice was a coward, Mitch the Bass was the opposite. He didn’t usually get involved in fights, but when push came to shove he didn’t mind getting a bit of dirt in his sandwich. Of them all, Jamie had disliked him the least.
“Okay, great. I hope you don’t want us to hold hands and sing Kumbaya, okay?”
“No, but it would be great if you joined us for a bit, to show that you’re not the type to hold a grudge,” Mitch the Voice said, finally finding his lost bravado.
“Join you for what?” Jamie asked.
Angus made desperate signs for everyone to do as they were cued. The Mitches jumped to their feet and they all moved to another room, where their musical instruments waited for them.
“You want me to play with you?” Jamie asked, unsure if they really meant it.
“Yes,” Mitch the Voice said. “For the sake of old times.”
If he refused, he would look like an asshole. After all, people liked it best when the ones they chose as their heroes behaved with honor and generosity. Jamie wasn’t sure if he had a proper supply of either, but he couldn’t just leave. After all, this was his chance to show the LiveFeed audience that his music sounded great when he was part of a band. Just drumming by himself could very well seem like a lonely business. What if they thought that he couldn’t be part of a band because he wasn’t a team player or something of the sort?
He shrugged and moved to sit on the stool. Grabbing the drumsticks, he nodded at his former band members. “What do you guys want to play?”
It was no wonder Mitch the Voice chose the piece that had to be the most uninspired in their repertoire. But Jamie was here to play the good guy, so he didn’t intend to correct him or suggest they play a different song.
There was no way they could spin this in a way that made him look bad. He had avoided getting stepped on by showing that he wasn’t easy to bend, and now he proved that he had no qualms about playing with his former band members. Whatever shit show the LiveFeed producers had wanted to obtain from this little meetup just wasn’t going to happen.
The camera guy was so close to him Jamie had to pull back. “Hey, my dude, do you mind?” he asked. “I need my space.”
It took a sign from Angus and a verbal correction from Fez to make the camera guy behave. These people were so weird, Jamie thought as he rolled the drumsticks on his fingers the same way he always did.
TBC
@Derek - it was actually your comment that drew my attention! You said that it was short, and I was thinking, oh, maybe it just felt that way, because it was about the same length as usual... and then I looked! So thanks for letting me know or else it might just have remained that way.
As for who is Wen following... I suppose it's safe to say that he has his eyes on Jamie :)
