BLACK to Reality

by Russell Blake

  “Welcome to the Rock House! Come on in! I’m Holly,” she squealed, and Black felt a twinge of alarm at how it would look to Sylvia when Holly hugged him and gave his bottom an on-camera pinch. “Wow. This one’s mine. Rrrowrr!” she said, and Black grinned and played along, trying not to think about the fact that she was likely half his age, even if she might have had twice the miles on her.

  “Nice to meet you, Holly,” Black said as she beamed sex appeal at him.

  “Everyone at home, this is Jim Black. He’s the original guitar player and songwriter for Gravatar, one of the biggest bands of all time. This is such a thrill. I can’t believe you’re playing with Last Call. Tell me, Jim…how does it feel?”

  “It’s a rush. I can’t wait,” Black said, doing his best to appear enthusiastic. “And it’s Black. Just Black. That’s what everybody calls me.”

  “All right. Black. So another question. Is it going to be weird having your old bandmate Nina judging you?” Holly asked.

  Black stopped in his tracks and tried to keep his mouth from gaping open. “Say what?”

  “Nina. She’s one of the judges. Are you afraid she’ll be harder on the band, or conversely, might be more willing to vote for you? You were married to her, right?”

  Black could hear the sound of his heart hammering in his ears. The hallway he was standing in seemed to elongate as the walls closed in. He was afraid he was going to faint, and then Mugsy saved the day by letting out a long yawn accompanied by a yowl.

  “I think I’ll let Mugsy have the last word on that,” Black said and resumed walking.

  “What a beautiful cat! And a husky boy, isn’t he?”

  “You don’t know the half of it. He’s actually been the state feline sumo wrestling champion three years running,” Black assured Holly without a trace of irony. Her eyes flicked to the side as she tried to decide whether he was kidding, and Black offered no clues. The cameraman shook his head from behind the camera, and she returned to her empty smile.

  “Oh, you. I can see you’re going to be nothing but trouble,” she said, giving Black a playful swat. “Come on. I’ll introduce you to the rest of the gang.”

  Holly led the way into a great room that could have doubled as a hangar, where four impossibly beautiful Asian girls lounged around the breakfast bar that separated it from the kitchen, two in mini-skirts that barely covered their bottoms, the other two in bikinis. Holly did a little bow to them and gestured to Black.

  “This is Black, everyone. Black, meet Love Jupiter. From Korea. They’re already stars over there, isn’t that right?” Holly enthused, and the four girls smiled and waved and made peace signs. Black smiled at each in turn, but he could have been invisible, because everyone’s attention was on Mugsy, who seemed to instinctively understand that he was going to be the center of attention as long as he turned on the charm. One of the bikini-clad nymphs moved toward Black, followed by her companion, and soon they were ooing and ahhing as they petted Mugsy, posing as their bandmates took pictures with their phones. Mugsy’s purrs resembled a Peterbilt revving, and Black realized that perhaps the truculent cat might be a godsend after all – he was taking all the heat off Black to do much besides pose with him.

  Two youths strode through the pocket doors, dressed in full-blown gang attire straight out of South Central, and swaggered to where Black stood.

  “Yo, Holly, baby. How you doin’, sweetness? What up?” the taller of the pair said, clutching the crotch of his baggy jeans like he was trying to hold his water.

  Another blinding smile from Holly. “Good, Lavon. Black, this is Lavon and SnM. They’re BrandX.”

  “Yo, punkass, welcome to da crib. Sorry we gonna stomp yo ass in the contest, you know?”

  Black shrugged. “No hard feelings. I’m sure I’ll get over it.”

  “What the hell’s that? Look like one a dem koalas or something,” SnM said, managing to leer at all four of the Koreans as well as Holly with one glance.

  “That’s Mugsy. He’s the Biggie of cats. Straight up,” Black announced.

  “Whoa. He do like to eat, don’t he?” Lavon commented, hesitantly petting Mugsy’s belly.

  “Never saw a Twinkie he didn’t love,” Black said, and the young men laughed.

  “Yo, what he weigh?” SnM asked, peering at Mugsy’s bloated countenance.

  “About the same as a bag of cement right about now, I’d guess,” Black joked, earning a titter from Holly. He turned to her. “Nice to meet everyone, but I need to get settled in and tend to Mugsy here. He gets grouchy if he doesn’t get a T-bone every hour, on the hour.”

  More laughs and pictures and squeals, and then Holly escorted him upstairs. The camera crew remained below, the equipment off now that they’d gotten their arrival shot. Black followed her, noting that she must have spent a lot of time in the gym as she moved up the wide marble steps ahead of him, and felt a stab of guilt. He hadn’t even been away from Sylvia for half a day and he was already checking out the talent – not to mention being surrounded by Korean hotties who seemed more than friendly.

  They arrived at the second floor, which resembled more a resort hotel than a home, and she pointed out the various doors. “There are eight bedrooms in the house, each with its own full bathroom. Four bands, so two rooms for each. We’ve got you staying with your drummer, Ed.”

  “That’ll work. Which room?”

  “This way. Second from the end,” Holly said, leading him down the elaborate corridor.

  “This is quite a place. Who owns it?”

  “Both houses are leased from the same guy. Some bigwig in the car business. Italian name. I wasn’t really paying attention when they were talking about it. I’m just on-camera eye candy.”

  “I’d say you’re more than that if you’re a host,” Black said. “But I have a question. You said Nina was one of the judges?”

  Holly slowed and turned to face him. “Didn’t you know? I just assumed someone had told you…”

  “No, it never came up. They left that out of the briefing.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to ambush you or anything,” Holly assured him, and he believed her – and not just because she had the bluest eyes he’d ever seen.

  “No problem. I’m a big boy. It just took me by surprise.”

  “I’ll bet.” She spun and continued down the hall until she stopped at an open doorway. “This is it. Ed’s at the pool, so you have it to yourself for now. Lou will be right up with your stuff. We’re not going to be shooting anything more until Monday, so you’re cool. Peter and Christina will be here this afternoon, and you’re slotted time in one of the rehearsal rooms at five, but until then, you’re on your own. They explained the rules to you on the way here?”

  “Yeah. Community kitchen, no leaving the grounds, no girl or boyfriends. All the food and booze I can drink. And Sarah said something about shopping?”

  “I don’t know about that. You should ask her. She’s going to be here all afternoon, making sure everyone feels at home and doesn’t need anything.”

  “What should I do with Mugsy?”

  “You should probably keep him in your room until Sarah figures it out. She’s the boss.”

  He offered Holly a small smile. “Thanks for showing me the way.”

  “Did you write that one, too?”

  Black shook his head. “Pretty sure that was Boston.”

  “Oh.”

  Black watched Holly go and then turned to enter the room, which was larger than his apartment and featured marble floors, granite counters, two double beds, and a dresser. Black poked his head into the bathroom and was impressed – it was easily the size of his kitchen. Mugsy was getting heavier by the second, so Black returned to the door, toed it closed, and set the obese feline down. Mugsy tottered several steps and then settled in under the closest bed. The sound of his snoring filled the air within seconds.

  Peals of laughter rose from outside the pocket doors that overlooked the ocean. Black pulled them op
en and was greeted by music and excited feminine squeals. He peered down at the large pool, where two bikini-clad members of Love Jupiter were standing in the shallow end, drinks in hand. A chubby male with disheveled hair stood by the far edge of the deck, dripping water. Without warning, he ran full steam and launched himself into the air, screaming, “Cannonball!” and then hit the surface with his knees tucked under his chin, sending water everywhere, including all over the laughing women. Two dead bottles of champagne sat in ice buckets by the wet bar, and there was a small army of empty beer cans by one of the lounge chairs.

  The diver’s head exploded out of the water, and he shook it like a wet dog, spraying his surroundings. He glanced at the two Korean singers, and then his eyes locked on Black.

  “Jim Black? Is that you?” he cried.

  “I think so. Ed?”

  “Brutha! Come on down. It’s all you can drink, man. Totally hot!”

  “Uh, maybe later. I have to get unpacked…”

  “Dude. That can wait.” Ed turned to the women. “This is Sora, and this is…Yoon Ji.”

  “Maybe in a little while. Save some cocktails for me.”

  “You don’t know what you’re missing, man,” Ed advised him. The two bathing beauties smiled and toasted him.

  “Looks like it. Hang loose. I think my stuff’s here.”

  Lou entered carrying his guitar and bag and set them on the bed. Mugsy stalked stiff-legged from beneath it, stretched, and fixed Black with his “I want food” glare. Black thanked Lou for bringing his things and asked him for a bowl of water.

  “I’m going to the store for a cat food run. Anything in particular?”

  “He likes canned. Get the jumbo size, obviously. Oh, and some kitty litter and a box.”

  “10-4. He definitely looks like he’s got an appetite.”

  “You don’t know the half of it. Is Sarah still downstairs?”

  “Yeah. She said to come down whenever you’re ready, and she’ll go through the rest of the schedule with you.”

  “Tell her I’ll be there in ten.”

  “You got it.”

  Black sat down on the bed when Lou left and stared at Mugsy, who was eyeing the obviously expensive wooden closet doors. “Don’t even think about it,” Black warned, and Mugsy, for once, took the hint and retreated. Black gazed around the room and lay back, feeling twice his age. As another volley of laughter echoed from the pool, he closed his eyes, wondering what he’d gotten himself into and how he was ever going to get himself back out.

  Chapter 10

  Black had just finished unpacking when Ed burst through the door, leaving puddles of water in his wake. Black held out his hand in greeting. Ed ignored it and embraced Black in a bear hug that would have been awkward even if he hadn’t been wearing only some soaked swim trunks hanging halfway down his chubby ass crack.

  “Dude. It’s awesome to finally meet you. Rooster told us all about your history – what can I say? This would be like Sid Vicious joining the band, you know? Bitchin’!” Ed finally released him and stepped back with an idiot grin on his face.

  “Nice to meet you, too. I hope he didn’t give me too much of a buildup. It’s been a while since I was in the saddle.”

  Ed shrugged. “He warned us you’d be a little rough but said it would get better quickly. I believe him. Rooster’s seen ’em all come and go. He’s the best. If he says you’re what this band needs, I’m all in. Go big or go home. Woohoo!”

  Black could smell beer coming off Ed in waves and wondered whether he was always this high on life even when sober. Still, there was something infectious about his smile and childlike joy, and Black decided that he’d rather have a guy like that keeping the beat than a sourpuss. From what he’d seen on YouTube, Ed was a natural showman, and his enthusiasm radiated as he played, making him an audience favorite.

  “Well, I’m not here to come in second, so I’ll give it everything I’ve got. Hopefully it gels. I can’t wait for our first rehearsal today.”

  “Crap. I totally spaced on that. I better start drinking mineral water, or Christina’s gonna go apeshit on me. She’s a little sensitive about booze since Rick…well, you know the story.”

  “I heard. Was he a big drinker?”

  “Not really. I mean, he’d knock ’em back like anyone, but it wasn’t like a big problem, you know? And he never smoked dope before a show. That was a total first. And last.”

  “I wonder why he chose that moment to screw up?”

  “He and Christina weren’t getting along. Maybe she drove him crazy. Who knows?”

  “You weren’t that close?”

  “Not really. I mean, he and Christina were tight, but he didn’t pal around with me or anything. We hung out, but it wasn’t like he was calling me to see if I wanted to go to the ball game or whatever. More like friends in the studio and onstage, but separate lives outside. Which was fine by me. Christina’s pretty…intense, sometimes. If he could deal with her 24/7, more power to him.”

  “Singers can be that way.”

  “Your old lady’s one of the judges, right?”

  Black sighed. “Nina. My ex. But that was a long time ago.”

  “What was it like? Being married to the biggest diva of the nineties?”

  “She wasn’t big yet when we were married – just starting to get there. But I guess you could say she was…intense, too. So I get the whole singer thing.”

  “Frigging prima donnas, if you ask me. But hey, what are you gonna do? Nobody packs a stadium to see me swat skins.”

  “Too true.” Black checked his watch. “I’m going to go downstairs. You want anything?”

  “I’m good. I think I’ll take a shower and sober up. Man, oh man, though. Did you see those chicks from Japan? I don’t know if they can sing for shit, but talk about bombshells…”

  “They’re certainly impressive. But I think they’re Korean–”

  Ed nearly jumped out of his skin when Mugsy rubbed against his leg. “What the hell is that?”

  “Oh, that’s Mugsy. He’s the world’s most ungrateful cat. Sarah fell in love with him when she saw him and decided he’s just got to be on the show.”

  Ed bent down and pet Mugsy, scratching behind his ears. “He’s a porker, huh? No problemo, boss man. Three’s company. I love animals.”

  “Mugsy might change your mind about that.”

  Sarah was sitting in the study off the great room studying her clipboard when Black found her. She gave him a courtesy smile and motioned for him to sit on one of the studded burgundy leather chairs.

  “Holly got you situated?”

  “Yes, thanks. And I just met Ed. Nice guy.”

  “He’s a sweetheart. Doesn’t have a mean bone in his body.” She eyed a sheet of paper. “I was just going over the itinerary. You’ve got the band at five; then we’ll do a big dinner outside on the pool deck. It’s a Hawaiian theme tonight. Then nothing until Monday, when we’ll do the whole on-camera orientation thing and lay out the week’s challenge.”

  “Great. I could use a few days to bond with my band before we start on this.”

  “Now on to the nitty gritty. Every week there’s a group activity where you break off into teams and compete, and then there’s an elimination round every couple weeks where you play somewhere interesting and different. Then the judges drop the axe. First round, two bands get asked to leave, and then it’s a process of elimination, with one each round hitting the road.”

  “That sounds like pretty standard fare.”

  “Yes, there shouldn’t be any surprises, although last year…well, let’s just say when you cram a bunch of performers together in two houses there are bound to be clashes and attractions. That’s part of the fascination for people, I think.”

  “Where’s the other house?”

  “About a half mile from here.”

  “Is it anywhere near as gorgeous as this one? This is a palace.”

  “It is, isn’t it? One of Simon’s contacts owns it
.”

  “Must be nice.”

  Sarah took him through the rest of the schedule, including what hours the camera crew would be filming. “The goal is to give the viewers a real taste of what it’s like to live and breathe the band lifestyle, so nothing’s off limits. We want authentic. If you like to down a bottle of Jack every night, no problem. Drag groupies back, we want it all captured. The more colorful, the better. But nothing fake, and nothing illegal.”

  “I’m afraid I’m not going to add much to the hard-partying musician reputation. You grow out of that after a certain point. At least, I did. Pretty early, too… But tell me about the judges. Nobody mentioned my ex-wife was sitting on the panel.”

  “Really? I just assumed Simon had. It’s Nina, Alex, and BT Slim, the hip-hip mogul. They judge the first rounds. Then on the last couple their votes count for fifty percent, and the TV audience’s votes count for the other. On the finals, it’s only the audience, although the judges get to score, comment on the performances, and offer criticism and feedback.”

  “And you don’t think it’s a problem that Nina’s ex-husband is in the contest?”

  Sarah shrugged. “It doesn’t matter what I think. Simon’s the big cheese. If he doesn’t have an issue with it, neither do I.”

  “Have you ever met Nina?”

  “Last year.” Sarah leaned forward. “Let’s talk about your one-on-one. On Monday, we’ll want to do an hour of you commenting on what it’s like to be here, the pressure, the competition…you’ve seen the kind of thing, where they cut away from the action and stick in ten seconds of talk now and then. Everyone does a few, although it’s tough with the Koreans. They don’t speak much English.”

  “Seems like their allure doesn’t have a lot to do with their language skills.”