Deranged Delusions

15. You've Got A Foe In Me

Why did God decide to make July so hot? I mean really, being over one hundred degrees, is that really necessary? Granted in Worden it would be a lot worse because tons of people don’t really believe in air conditioning up there and if I still lived with Melissa, she’d refuse to air condition the apartment because she didn’t want to foot the bill to pay for that glorious box that makes inside like a freaking ice cube when outside it’s hotter than hell.

Thank God I get to work in a cold office most of the time. My summer wardrobe consists of the kind of things I never got to wear while I was working for Justin. Business casual clothes, nice suits from Ann Taylor, and maybe even the Banana Republic. I wear more sweaters than I ever did before and I’m starting to fear that once fall and winter come around I’ll be wearing parkas and bear skins inside the office.

At least I can go home to my own place and control the air conditioning there. I get to play God and decide if it’s going to be hot or cold. No more sweating in bed because the heat is unbearable. No more blowing a cheap ass Wal-Mart fan on my face while I try to sleep. Nope, I get honest to goodness air conditioning tonight.

Which is why I’m glad I’m not living with Melissa anymore.

I miss her, I mean she was my best friend. I say was because we aren’t best friends anymore. Hell, we aren’t even acquaintances. In fact I would say we’re more like enemies now than ever before. And I have Justin to thank for that, as always.

I haven’t seen him in four months and yet he can still find a way to make my life a living hell. My first week working for Clive was supposed to be a dream. Get to know the man, do a few things around the house for him, plan some parties, answer phones, kiss babies, call managers from other artists…but no. Instead I was trying to pick up the pieces of a destroyed friendship and trying to move out of my apartment while trying to find a new place to live and do all that shit for Clive. Yeah, thank you Justin for making my life hell.

I don’t think Melissa was expecting Justin to call her up out of the blue after he and I parted ways. Especially since she dumped him back in February. But he did. He called her cell phone and asked her out and they hooked up again. And I specifically told her that he was doing it for a booty call but she didn’t care. So she went, got some, and he broke her heart. Next thing I knew he was with some leggy model and Melissa was left high and dry on the side of the curb. I tried to nurse her back to unbroken heart status but she wouldn’t have it. She bitched, and she moaned to the point where I just told her to get over herself.

And I did.

And that was the end of our friendship. So thank you Justin, thank you for coming back into my life and destroying it further. I swear one of these days I’m going to find him and give him a real piece of my mind.

But I love working for Clive. He is such a sweet and wonderful man and I can’t believe I put up with Justin’s shit for as long as I did. Clive is a freaking saint compared to Justin’s Satan and I am so glad Justin was able to give me that opportunity. Yes, I owe him for that because if it weren’t for him I’d still be running around LA, granting Justin’s impossible requests.

Although it was really strange the way Justin completely dropped me. I mean I freaking cried when I found out I would be out of his grasp, but part of me didn’t really want to leave. I mean sure Justin can be a complete asshole and so inconsiderate towards others, but in Worden he was beginning to turn around. He was actually a joy to be around and I was having fun with him. I mean you can’t enjoy cow tipping or barn dancing with just anybody and Justin did almost destroy my house because he didn’t know how to properly turn off a stove. But right before we had to leave he completely changed. A complete one-eighty. I have no idea why he acted the way he did but I try not to think about Justin much anymore. I mean, I have bigger fish to fry.

But for now I’m perfectly content with my life. The living situation is good, my boss is amazing, and I’m just fine living for myself for once. Sure I have to make sure that someone else is completely satisfied but Clive has this thing where he makes sure his employees are comfortable before he asks them for things. He just doesn’t demand anything and expect the person to bend over backwards. He has respect for the hard working assistance of this world and I give him a crap load of reverence for that.

I pull into the parking lot of Marmalade’s Café and I’m ready for my power breakfast before heading into the office. It’s going to be a pretty lazy day because Clive is taking a few days off at a spa in Malibu and so he basically just wants me in the office to answer phone calls and take messages. Fine with me, I don’t have to run around to dodgy parts of town to buy weed or continue to plan for crazy parties that miraculously fall into place at the last minute. Nope, I get to sit on my butt all day, answer some phones, and then surf the Internet for random things. Thank God for Clive.

Marmalade’s is a small little eatery that’s just down the street from Clive’s offices. It’s a natural hang out for Young Hollywood and others who want to be apart of the whole scene. Me, I just have a love affair with their omelets and pancakes. I think they’re the reason why I don’t have a boyfriend right now. Not that I care, again, I’m still a bit too busy and for some odd reason, I keep thinking that Neal and I will happen again.

I haven’t seen him since our breakup but I know he’s been doing well for himself. He finally got his restaurant off the ground and its earned fairly decent reviews. I don’t have the balls to go over there and try it out for myself because that would mean running into him. And that would mean having a conversation with him. And I think I would make a complete fool out of myself seeing as I would have to tell him that Justin is a liar and didn’t tell me we did anything and I was too drunk to notice that we had done anything. No, the awkwardness would just kill me.

Getting out of Bentley Lexus, I head towards the restaurant and head inside. I’ve become such a regular that the head waitress smiles in my direction and grabs a menu before immediately taking me to a seat towards the back of the restaurant. I like to eat while facing the whole restaurant so I can take in the whole eatery. I love to people watch on my morning breakfast runs and it looks like today is going to be insanely interesting.

It seems there’s some comic book convention of sorts at one of the larger hotels down the street because I have never seen so many overweight, greasy haired, middle-aged men in my life. They all have X-Men shirts on or some other sort of superhero that I can’t place but I know if I were with Trace, he’d be naming them all and giving his opinion on each comic book star. The other various regulars are looking highly affronted that their hangout is being invaded by Star Wars Junkies and Trekkies but I find it rather hilarious and quite entertaining.

I sip on my orange juice, completely oblivious to the person who has just entered my domain. In fact, it isn’t until I finish my light breakfast that I notice him at the small counter where you can order drinks during dinner hours. I’m heading out the door when he calls my name and I almost fall over out of shock. I wasn’t expecting to hear that voice in a very, very long time.

Turning around, I keep my eyesight trained on the ground, hoping that he’ll just disappear if I don’t look up anytime soon. This is really not going well but hopefully I can turn this into a positive situation.

Because if I don’t I’ll probably snap.

“Lor, you okay?”

“Neal,” I say as I throw my head up and look up at him with a huge smile on my face, “how are you?” I shouldn’t be asking that, good God I should not be asking that. He looks fucking amazing. He’s lost some weight, he’s impeccably dressed, and that brightness is still looming in his eyes. I think I just fell in love all over again.

“Can’t complain, how are you doing? It’s been a while,” he states casually before he sips on some random smoothie concoction that I’ve never seen, or smelled, before. I bet that’s how he’s lost that weight. I would want to vomit that, and everything else I ate before it right into a toilet. It smells horrendous.

“Pretty good,” I explain before my voice fades off. Oh we are heading straight towards the territory of awkward ex-silence and I so don’t want to go there. “I heard about your restaurant. Congratulations,” I explain and he smiles sheepishly, that impish grin that I love before he rubs the back of his neck.

“Thanks. We worked hard on that and I’m glad it’s getting the recognition it deserves. What about you?” He’s about to ask me something else but my cell phone starts to ring and I roll my eyes before I dig around in my purse. I can hear Neal sigh heavily before he greedily sucks on his shit-smoothie.

“Sorry, I’ve got to take this,” I explain before I throw the phone up to my ear. “Lauren Walters speaking.”

“Hello Lauren, how are you this morning?”

“Fine, what can I do for you, sir?” I love how he asks me how I’m doing. He doesn’t get straight into the ‘I want, I want,’ but he takes the time to see what his employees are up to. God I love him.

“I need you to head over to the McKennan Studios when you’re finished with your breakfast and pick up some stills for the shoot they’re doing there. Drop them off on my desk and then you can take the rest of the day off.” I freaking love this man.

“Sure thing! Have a wonderful time at your spa, sir. Safe trip home too,” I kindly state into the phone before we hang up and I throw the phone back into my purse before I look over at Neal.

“Still working for Justin?” he asks and I can hear the tension in his voice. Apparently he still doesn’t like the guy, which is good news for me because once he hears what I have to say, maybe, just maybe, I can get another chance.

“Actually,” I start coyly, “I’m not.” His eyebrows shoot up and he looks at me with a shocked expression plastered on his handsome face.

“Really? I would think you’d still be with him after all the stuff you’ve been through. What are you doing now?” he questions and my smile widens as I sip on the remnants of my orange juice.

“Well I was promoted to Clive Davis’s personal assistant about four months ago so I’ve been with him since March,” I explain with a heavy nod of my head and Neal nods his head in approval.

“Wow. That’s great Lauren, I’m proud of you. Glad you could get away from that douche bag while you had a chance,” he states and I shrug with indifference as he slurps on his shitty ass smoothie. Really, who the hell would drink that stuff?

“Look, Neal,” I start realizing that it’s now or never, “I know we left on the wrong foot and everything and I know that was partially my fault. But you have to understand that I never meant for us to end that way…” I so do not need to be thinking like this at nine o’clock in the morning and I don’t want to start my day like this either. Because the way I’m seeing this, I’ll either walk out of here with my boyfriend back or a broken heart. But I’ve got to take the chance.

“I was drunk out of my mind that night. And no, I didn’t kiss Justin I swear I didn’t. I didn’t mean to hurt you and I think…I think we can make things work out between us if we just went out and had dinner or something, maybe a drink or two, just to catch up…”

“Lauren…”

“I mean I can understand if you’re busy this weekend but maybe next weekend or something, or maybe…”

“Lauren…” I can’t hear him, I’m rambling up a storm because I am so nervous that this isn’t going to work out or that he’ll laugh in my face or he’ll just leave me standing here like a complete idiot. That’s just what I need.

“…Maybe we can figure something…”

“Neal, sweetie, are you ready to go?” And just like that an unrecognizable, female voice breaks my incoherent ramblings and sends me on a complete tailspin. A hand appears on Neal’s shoulder and wraps it’s way down his chest before a blonde head appears next to his shoulder.

He turns to look towards her and an ear splitting grin appears on his face as he turns towards this woman and grabs onto her hand. A hand, I might add, that has an enormous diamond ring sitting on one of her fingers. A ring that would have been mine had Justin not fucked everything up. Oh Jesus…

“Who is this?”

“Oh, Sharon, this is Lauren Walters…an old friend of mine,” Neal states as he presents this woman to me without so much as a stutter. Sharon the Amazon Blonde steps forward and offers me her hand to shake. I can only stare at her with my mouth open and look over at Neal with an accusatory glare. So we’re just old friends now? The three years we spent going out and pretty much fucking each other’s brains out meant nothing to him? Nothing?

“A pleasure, Lauren.” Yeah, a real great fucking pleasure. The reason why my heart is breaking is because it is such a fucking pleasure to meet you. To meet the woman who I’m supposed to be right now.

“Yeah. Nice to meet you,” I say trying my best not to sound completely miserable. I think Neal can already tell, but Amazon Blonde is totally oblivious. Well that saves me some embarrassment.

“Sharon is my fiancé, Lauren,” Neal explains. No shit, Sherlock, I kind of figured that out by the huge ass rock hanging like a dead animal from her Daddy-Long-Leg finger.

“Oh,” I say in a small voice, “that’s nice.” And here comes the mixed look of pity and the ‘this could have been you,’ glare from Neal. I don’t know if I can take it right now so I quickly clear my throat and fiddle around with my purse. “It was nice running into you, Neal, but I really have to be going. I need to do a few things for my client. Very busy, you know.” And now I’m rambling again when I really need to be getting out to Bentley Lexus, Queen, and my road rage. They’re the only things that really understand me now.

“It was nice meeting you, Lauren. Hopefully we can get together and have lunch or something,” Amazon Barbie proclaims and I shake my head.

“Don’t think so,” I start, “I mean, it would be a bit awkward sitting there with my ex-boyfriend and his fiancé. Maybe we can get together and discuss how abnormally small his penis is though. He probably still has my number, give me a call,” I bite before I quickly turn around and haul ass out of Marmalade’s.

I don’t stop to look back and it isn’t until I’m safely in Bentley Lexus that I look in the rearview mirror to see if they’re walking out of the restaurant or not. I can’t see them so I guess that’s a good thing. But that still doesn’t stop my heart from cracking, or from feeling like complete shit.

There’s only one thing running through my head as I head towards the studio Clive has instructed me to go to today:

That could have been me.

McKennan Studios is located just off of Sunset Boulevard behind a civilized diner and a small park. I’ve never been here before, but apparently the people who run the place are the up and coming photographers of Southern California. I know Clive is sending most of his clients there now because the photographers take great photos, but they do them for cheap.

I’m just here to pick up stills that Clive and his production teams will go over so they can decide what kind of message the artist in question is trying to send to the general public that will more than likely eat up the music. If there’s one thing Clive knows how to do, it’s to market an artist to the rest of the world.

Parking Bentley Lexus in the visitor parking, I get out and head towards the front door of the studio and walk inside. The interior is modest; nothing too crazy although I’m sure they’ll be doing some remodeling once their high end clientele escalates. The throbbing sound of music is definite in the background and I’m sure that someone is in the middle of a pretty big shoot and I can only hope I don’t have to go in there and watch some new musician prance around awkwardly to old music and a photographer yelling at them that they’re a ‘reluctant fawn,’ or something.

A woman is sitting behind a front desk, answering a frantically ringing telephone. She offers me the most welcoming smile she can muster before she puts at least five calls on hold so she can attend to me. And I thought my desk job was frantic. I’m lucky to get five calls in half an hour let alone five minutes.

“Can I help you?”

“I’m Lauren Walters, I was sent here by Mr. Clive Davis to get…”

“Oh sure, we’ve been expecting you. Go right on through the back and find Archie. He’ll have the stills for you,” the girl explains before she throws me an apologetic smile and gets back to answering her phone. Taking that as an invitation to leave, I walk through the doors that will take me into the depths of the studios and leave the foyer behind.

The music becomes stronger and soon I’m dumped out into this huge hanger of a studio, the music surrounding me almost making me want to find some cotton balls to plug into my ears. It’s that loud. I’m still trying to get my bearings right when suddenly there’s a flash of light in the far corner of the room and the sound of someone laughing. Heading in that direction, I almost run into someone who’s heading in the same direction as me.

“Sorry,” I begin to say but I hear a muffled yelp of surprise.

“Lo-ho! What are you doing here?” And just like that my day just got a thousand times worse.

“Hey, Trace,” I say quietly as I push my hair behind my ears. Just wonderful. Knowing that Trace is here means that Justin isn’t too far off and I’m sure that we’re both heading towards him right now. “How are you?”

“Long time no see, I’m doing fine. How’s life?”

Oh it could be a hell of a lot better. “Fine. Just fine. Do you know where Archie is?” I ask hoping to God he’s in the opposite direction of the photo shoot going on.

“Yup, he’s over here,” Trace says before he points towards the area I would rather not venture over to. Perfect. God, can you throw me a fucking bone here? Trace saunters off towards the sound of the music and I muster up my strength and follow him.

He’s sitting in front of a black backdrop, a large amount of disco balls strewn about. He’s wearing a three-piece suit and the music is thumping from a huge stereo system off to the side of the backdrop. The flash illuminates the area and I see a man hunched over a camera, taking various pictures and shouting things at Justin.

Trace leans against a table laden with food and I stand behind him, hoping to stay out of Justin’s line of sight. I don’t know why I don’t want him to see me, maybe it’s because I don’t want him to be a complete ass to me, or maybe I’m afraid that the past few months have been a dream and I’ve really been working for Justin all along. I have no idea, all I know is I don’t want to converse with a man who is, unbeknownst to him, making my life a war zone.

“Archie, can we take five? I need some lunch,” Justin says before he picks up one of the disco balls and unceremoniously lets it drop to the floor. Archie snaps a photo of the ball exploding into smithereens and he nods quickly before he sets down the camera and walks off towards the stereo.

The music turns off just as Justin walks over towards us. I keep my head down, inspecting the small finger foods that are cold and stale on the table. I would have never let them get in that state if I were still working for him.

But I’m not going to think about that.

“Can we get some fast food or something man? I’m fucking star…” Justin begins to say but I know he’s seen me because I can feel his eyes boring into the top of my head. He clears his throat and that action alone forces me to look up.

Our eyes meet and he’s glaring at me. Glaring at me like I did something wrong, like take away his right to a first-born child or something. I look over at Trace and he’s noticed the tension between us because he’s quickly backing away and stammering about how he has to call someone to get the fast food delivered.

Thanks Trace.

“What are you doing here?” Justin asks me and I sigh heavily before I start to walk away from him. I try to act interested in the crappy food that’s been laid out for Justin to snack on but all I can think about is the fact that he’s staring at me like I’ve done something terribly wrong.

“I have to pick up some stills for Clive,” I say quietly as I pick up a baby tomato and press it between my thumb and index finger.

“Well then do it. I don’t want you around here.” Excuse me? Who the hell does he think he is?

“Last time I checked, I don’t work for you anymore so you don’t have any right to order me around,” I snap and he chuckles slightly. I hate that stupid little laugh he has. It is so annoying. Why doesn’t he shut the hell up?

“Well I can just as easily call Clive and tell him that one of his employees is bothering me at a very important shoot,” he counters and I look up at him with a scathing look.

“Why the hell are you being so hostile towards me? All I did was come here to get some stills. You don’t even have to talk to me!” I say my voice rising. The last thing I need to do is lose my temper in front of him. That would make everything just…well it would certainly put a wonderful end to an almost wonderful day.

“You’re messing up my artistic flow. And you expect me not to come up and talk to you when I haven’t seen you in almost five months? Jesus, Lo-ho…”

“Don’t call me that…”

“I can call you whatever the hell I want. I can call you a bitch mother fucking ass bitch if I wanted to…”

“Well guess what Einstein, you just did,” I cry back while I try my best not to lose my composure. I can feel the tears start to prick at the corners of my eyes and I refuse to let myself cry in front of him. It isn’t even Justin who’s making me feel like I want to break down and sob. It’s the fact that I have to look at him and realize that he’s the reason why I’m not going to have dinner at some fancy restaurant with Neal tonight. He’s the reason why I don’t have a best friend and why I live all by myself with only my TiVo and goldfish for company. I live a sad, single life because of him and I have nothing positive to show for it.

“Jesus Christ, Lauren, why are you making everything so difficult?” Justin mutters more to himself than to me. I’m starting to lose it. The tears are pooling now and at any moment they’ll fall and then my transition into huge loser will be complete.

“Why am I making things so difficult? Shit, the last time I checked you were the one who jumped down my throat the minute I came in here. What the hell is your problem?” I ask and my voice is cracking and starting to get hoarse because I refuse to break down and cry in front of him and let him think he’s the whole reason for it.

“Whatever. Just because you can’t amount to anything without me doesn’t mean you have shove yourself in here and act all pious and righteous in the things you do right now. Sorry you’ve hit rock bottom without me there to keep you on your toes…”

I’ve had enough. He’s being mean and spiteful just to get a reaction out of me. Well it’s safe to say that he’s won. Why did I ever think we could be anything like friends? Why did I think I could change him for the better? He’ll always be a stuck up, self centered little asshole and there’s nothing I can do about that.

“Thank you for making me see that I can amount to nothing in my life, Justin. Thanks for helping me understand that the reason why Neal has gone and gotten himself a fiancé is because I make everything difficult for everyone else. Maybe I’ll just go to my apartment and just sit there because apparently I won’t move forward without you there to shove orders down my throat and bitch at me every single day because your life doesn’t go according to your fucking perfect plan.”

And before I start to completely lose it, I turn around and hurry out of the studio. Fuck the stills, fuck my job, and fuck him. All I need to do is go home, sit on my couch, and watch Lifetime Movies while pigging out on Ben and Jerry’s ice cream.

I can forget about Melissa, forget about Neal and Amazon Man Stealer Barbie, and I can forget about him.

***