‹ Prequel: Lost Cause
Sequel: Dinner Date With a Rock Star ›
Hallelujah
Spying on the Enemy
Today was just another perfect California day. Morning, actually.. Stop that.Why my crazy was up this early, we may never know.
"Mmph," Brian said from beside me, facedown in the pillow. I heard a garbled statement from the fabric.
"Ya might want to stop suffocating yourself if you want me to hear you," I responded , placing my hand on one of his broad, tan shoulders. He turned to face me, his dark and beautiful eyes still bleary from fatigue.
"I said, we should get going. Big day at the studio." I yawned, causing him to do the same.
"Do I have to come with you every damn day?" He sat up, pulling the sheets more in his direction, the cream-coloured fabric pooling around his naked torso. I tried not to smile. It still can seem like every night's a conquest with a male model. Except, of course, it's the same almost oppresively hot guy laying on his side of his bed in his house. Wait, does that mean I'm the conquest? Ew, Cat, just fucking ew! Oops, Brian was talking again.
"I'd like you to," His lips pursed slightly. I don't think he realized how uncomfortable I was there. It's not like I could help at all, so the day for me would be spent hiding in a booth to avoid seeing Matt. I do that enough as it is.
"Bri," I whined, stretching. It seems the pout works on every guy.
"Arright, stay here then. Promise me you won't burn this place down while I'm off though?"
"Maybe, I'm not gonna promise I won't snoop though." I responded. He smiled, telling me he had nothing to hide.
***
About 45 minutes later, Brian was gone. I pushed my still-damp hair (he'd persuaded me into still getting into the shower with him. Not that I minded terribly much.) behind my ears and sat back on the bed.
"I'm bored," I muttered. Time to snoop? Why the hell not?
***
I walked silently into the office, morning sun streaking across me as I sat in Brian's chair. The black leather smelled faintly like his cologne, I noticed. His computer was still on, set to desktop (a picture of our entire group making odd facial expressions). It was mostly folder icons that dotted the screen. Two for guitar compositions, one for pictures, one marked "Boring Shit" (it was tax things on the house. Boring is right.), one marked "Other Shit." Such a way with words, that man has. The voice sounded wry, as if it had any personality other than... evil, annoying, pointless.
I clicked on "Other Shit" and saw a bunch of videos, dating all the way from 2004 to last week. A few videos were strip clubs or big-boobed fans (to be expected on a straight rockstar's computer. I'm not insane enough to be jealous.), some just the guys goofing around, the one last week where Lyndsey managed to give Jimmy a piggyback ride for almost 25 feet (It's amazing what a little booze and a camera can do to a group of happy idiots, yeah?). I looked at the earliest one.
Immediately a little viewer popped up, the video loaded. I swear I heard a door open somewhere in the house. Paranoid! The crazy was probably right. No one would be here, there's too much work to be done at the studio. I'm guessing this house is old enough to creak anyhow. The video started, swiveling to Johnny's face. He stuck his tongue out at the camera and smiled.
"I'm da camera man!" His hair looked like it did when I first met him, an odd multi-coloured mohawk of epic proportions. So much gel and time he'd out into that hair before a concert or outing, we'd started calling him a girl. Why yes, we're mean. The camera moved paces and focused in on Zacky and.. was that Lyndsey? Her hair was poofier than I remembered it. She looked phenomenally different with her glasses on also. Zack hugged her with his untattooed arms, calling Lyndz his sexy girl. She giggled coyly and the camera turned back to Johnny, he shuddered.
"It's so cute I may just vomit,"
"Hey! Not all over my new camera. That shit's worth $300!" The camera turned to Matt, who was grinning into the lens. A pretty-ish, skinny girl with a purple ponytail sat down next to him, waved shyly at the camera. I blinked and paused the video.
Yeah, that was me close to five years ago. I thought for a moment. Why was this on Brian's computer? He wasn't even around for another 6 months... I unpaused the video, anxious to see what the 20-year-old me would do. Not much, so the camera moved again, to Jimmy and Leanna, who raised their beers to the camera and promptly flipped it off.
The camera panned over to Lacey, who did a rock-on sign and laughed at a joke Jimmy told before batting the lens playfully away. I heard Jimmy declare he was going out for a smoke. Most everyone seemed to follow, except, of course, the camera man and two others he was filming.
The camera panned randomly back to Matt and me. Matt had his arms around my waist, whispering something before nipping my ear. My double giggled and turned her head to face him. They promptly kissed. Oh God, we were making out on the couch. Now I remember this night....
"Woah," Johnny said from behind the camera. He cleared his throat loudly, the camera versions of Matt and myself breaking away and looking embarrassedly over. The me on tape giggled. "Have you guys stopped having sex at all since Cady got here last week?" She giggled again, Matt smiled his charming smile and sat up (he'd been on top of me/her.). Wow, I was incredibly annoying, what with all the giggling back then. Yeah, and you're twice as annoying now, come to think of it.
"Yeah, I mean, during shows... but..."
"No comment," I added brilliantly, sticking a manicured bright purple fake nail into the air.
"HEY!" I someone yelled from a distance, "you guys coming outside or what?"
"In a minute," Johnny called back. "I'll leave you two... lovebirds to it," The frame rose and shook a bit, meaning he'd stood up, and the picture started bouncing as he walked out. The picture suddenly stopped altogether and the box closed. The end of the film.
I swiveled quickly in the chair and turned to get up now that I was tired of snooping, then froze as still as a statue, my jaw dropped in surprise and one foot on the ground.
Okay, maybe you aren't just a paranoid psycho.
"Hey," Matt greeted, smiling in a way that made my heart pound.
"Mmph," Brian said from beside me, facedown in the pillow. I heard a garbled statement from the fabric.
"Ya might want to stop suffocating yourself if you want me to hear you," I responded , placing my hand on one of his broad, tan shoulders. He turned to face me, his dark and beautiful eyes still bleary from fatigue.
"I said, we should get going. Big day at the studio." I yawned, causing him to do the same.
"Do I have to come with you every damn day?" He sat up, pulling the sheets more in his direction, the cream-coloured fabric pooling around his naked torso. I tried not to smile. It still can seem like every night's a conquest with a male model. Except, of course, it's the same almost oppresively hot guy laying on his side of his bed in his house. Wait, does that mean I'm the conquest? Ew, Cat, just fucking ew! Oops, Brian was talking again.
"I'd like you to," His lips pursed slightly. I don't think he realized how uncomfortable I was there. It's not like I could help at all, so the day for me would be spent hiding in a booth to avoid seeing Matt. I do that enough as it is.
"Bri," I whined, stretching. It seems the pout works on every guy.
"Arright, stay here then. Promise me you won't burn this place down while I'm off though?"
"Maybe, I'm not gonna promise I won't snoop though." I responded. He smiled, telling me he had nothing to hide.
***
About 45 minutes later, Brian was gone. I pushed my still-damp hair (he'd persuaded me into still getting into the shower with him. Not that I minded terribly much.) behind my ears and sat back on the bed.
"I'm bored," I muttered. Time to snoop? Why the hell not?
***
I walked silently into the office, morning sun streaking across me as I sat in Brian's chair. The black leather smelled faintly like his cologne, I noticed. His computer was still on, set to desktop (a picture of our entire group making odd facial expressions). It was mostly folder icons that dotted the screen. Two for guitar compositions, one for pictures, one marked "Boring Shit" (it was tax things on the house. Boring is right.), one marked "Other Shit." Such a way with words, that man has. The voice sounded wry, as if it had any personality other than... evil, annoying, pointless.
I clicked on "Other Shit" and saw a bunch of videos, dating all the way from 2004 to last week. A few videos were strip clubs or big-boobed fans (to be expected on a straight rockstar's computer. I'm not insane enough to be jealous.), some just the guys goofing around, the one last week where Lyndsey managed to give Jimmy a piggyback ride for almost 25 feet (It's amazing what a little booze and a camera can do to a group of happy idiots, yeah?). I looked at the earliest one.
Immediately a little viewer popped up, the video loaded. I swear I heard a door open somewhere in the house. Paranoid! The crazy was probably right. No one would be here, there's too much work to be done at the studio. I'm guessing this house is old enough to creak anyhow. The video started, swiveling to Johnny's face. He stuck his tongue out at the camera and smiled.
"I'm da camera man!" His hair looked like it did when I first met him, an odd multi-coloured mohawk of epic proportions. So much gel and time he'd out into that hair before a concert or outing, we'd started calling him a girl. Why yes, we're mean. The camera moved paces and focused in on Zacky and.. was that Lyndsey? Her hair was poofier than I remembered it. She looked phenomenally different with her glasses on also. Zack hugged her with his untattooed arms, calling Lyndz his sexy girl. She giggled coyly and the camera turned back to Johnny, he shuddered.
"It's so cute I may just vomit,"
"Hey! Not all over my new camera. That shit's worth $300!" The camera turned to Matt, who was grinning into the lens. A pretty-ish, skinny girl with a purple ponytail sat down next to him, waved shyly at the camera. I blinked and paused the video.
Yeah, that was me close to five years ago. I thought for a moment. Why was this on Brian's computer? He wasn't even around for another 6 months... I unpaused the video, anxious to see what the 20-year-old me would do. Not much, so the camera moved again, to Jimmy and Leanna, who raised their beers to the camera and promptly flipped it off.
The camera panned over to Lacey, who did a rock-on sign and laughed at a joke Jimmy told before batting the lens playfully away. I heard Jimmy declare he was going out for a smoke. Most everyone seemed to follow, except, of course, the camera man and two others he was filming.
The camera panned randomly back to Matt and me. Matt had his arms around my waist, whispering something before nipping my ear. My double giggled and turned her head to face him. They promptly kissed. Oh God, we were making out on the couch. Now I remember this night....
"Woah," Johnny said from behind the camera. He cleared his throat loudly, the camera versions of Matt and myself breaking away and looking embarrassedly over. The me on tape giggled. "Have you guys stopped having sex at all since Cady got here last week?" She giggled again, Matt smiled his charming smile and sat up (he'd been on top of me/her.). Wow, I was incredibly annoying, what with all the giggling back then. Yeah, and you're twice as annoying now, come to think of it.
"Yeah, I mean, during shows... but..."
"No comment," I added brilliantly, sticking a manicured bright purple fake nail into the air.
"HEY!" I someone yelled from a distance, "you guys coming outside or what?"
"In a minute," Johnny called back. "I'll leave you two... lovebirds to it," The frame rose and shook a bit, meaning he'd stood up, and the picture started bouncing as he walked out. The picture suddenly stopped altogether and the box closed. The end of the film.
I swiveled quickly in the chair and turned to get up now that I was tired of snooping, then froze as still as a statue, my jaw dropped in surprise and one foot on the ground.
Okay, maybe you aren't just a paranoid psycho.
"Hey," Matt greeted, smiling in a way that made my heart pound.