Something Real

by Nellie Christine

  “No one else knew either, yet they came.”

  Elijah rubbed at his smooth face. “All I can say is sorry, then. I’m sure that means nothing but it doesn’t lessen the fact that I am. I should’ve called.”

  “You should’ve been there.” Fallon looked away and back to her computer. She began typing again.

  Elijah watched her for a moment before standing up straight. “I am sorry,” he reiterated, hoping she knew the apology was genuine.

  She nodded, looking down at the handwritten document she was typing up.

  “Can I at least hear the good news?”

  Fallon stopped again and sat back. Elijah wondered if she realized she wasn’t going to get any work done if he didn’t leave.

  “I got into Stanford Law for the Spring Semester.”

  Elijah smiled at the news. “What? Are you serious? That’s amazing!”

  She nodded, unable to fight back the smile at her friend’s happiness for her. “Yep. So even though Columbia gave me a big fat rejection, I’m still going to a school of my choice.”

  He moved around the desk and pulled her in for a hug. She resisted at first, but eventually allowed him to engulf her tightly.

  “Congratulations, knucklehead. I’m very proud of you.”

  She pulled back and nodded. “Thank you. I wish you were there last night.”

  Elijah pulled at the hem of his flannel shirt and shrugged. “I wish I was too.”

  It was only half a lie. He did wish he had gotten to be there with all their friends when she broke the news, but he didn’t want to give up the night he had with Grayson. He didn’t think he’d trade that for anything.

  “So.” Fallon sat back down and looked up at him. “Tell me about your night. Was it Tony again? Did you two finally get to use that toy?”

  Elijah smiled as he walked back to his previous spot and leant against the cubicle. “It wasn’t Tony.”

  Fallon was about to turn back to her work, but she looked up at him curiously. She was staring, and her eyebrow was arched in a way that said she suspected something. Elijah gave her a funny look back.

  “What?”

  “Why are you… what is that? Is that a smile on your face?”

  Elijah scoffed. He wasn’t smiling. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Who was it?” Fallon asked. She slid her chair forward and picked up her coffee mug, taking a sip. “This is going to be good, isn’t it?”

  “Remember the dude who lost his phone? I returned it to him on Monday?”

  She nodded, still looking at him suspiciously. “Grayson, right?”

  He licked his lips. “Grayson. Last night, I ran into him –”

  “Wait. Are you about to tell me you…” she trailed off, moving in closer to whisper. “That you fucked the guy whose phone you found?”

  Elijah sighed, but he nodded. “It’s so much more than that. He’s Grayson Paul, the son –”

  “– of Harvey Paul? That’s the Grayson?” Fallon asked. Her voice had drifted higher than she probably thought it had and someone shushed them.

  Elijah looked from the secretary back at his friend. “You know him?”

  “He’s sometimes at a major party I worm my way into. Kind of a quiet guy, isn’t he? I always see him hugging the wall, only speaking to people that approach him.” She saw her boss come out of his office and turned around, pretending to do some work. Once the man got on the elevator, she continued. “He’s so hot, Eli. There’s no way you got with him. Those green eyes and that dimple. Oh my goodness! ”

  Elijah got defensive. “Why couldn’t I get with a guy like him?”

  “Have you seen him? No offense, but he’s like a Disney Prince, while you’re like the edgy rocker who only got one chair to turn on The Voice before getting eliminated in the Battle Rounds.”

  That was a very specific description. Elijah shook his head. “I think he happens to like me. In fact, we’re meeting up in another two hours.”

  His friend looked impressed. Fallon twirled her red locks around her finger as she listened. “Wow. You’re going on a date with Grayson Paul the night after you did him?”

  Elijah deadpanned. “Well, not exactly. I don’t do dates and he’s aware of that. He left an article of clothing at my place last night and I’m just returning it.”

  The impressed look on her face fell. “Oh. Well, then.”

  “Well,” Elijah continued. “We had a great time, too. It wasn’t just sex. He saw me perform at Amo Pasta while he was on a date with some doctor and he liked my set and my voice so much, he offered me an audition at Millennium right on the spot.”

  Fallon looked up; her eyes practically bulging out of her head. “Time out. Wait. Rewind.”

  Elijah smiled smugly.

  “There’s way too much to process in that sentence. Firstly, he was on a date with someone else the same night you two banged?”

  Elijah nodded. “It sounds like you doubt my power, young grasshopper.”

  “And secondly… he got you an audition at Millennium Records? Dude. If Grayson Paul is vouching for you then I imagine you’re practically in. Harvey Paul would probably sign you on the spot. Goodbye ’93 Honda Accord, hello 2018 Mercedes Benz!”

  “Slow your roll,” Elijah told her, holding his hands up. “I told him no. You know I’m not doing that.”

  Her eyes bulged out again, but this time it was more because of confused anger than it was shock. “You did what?”

  “You’ve known me for how long?” he asked her. “In all those years, since when have I ever expressed wanting to be a famous singer or a famous anything for that matter?”

  Fallon looked up at him. “Never.”

  “Don’t you think if I wanted to be signed to a label, I could’ve by now?”

  She rolled her eyes. “You’re tooting your own horn, buddy.”

  “It’s true.”

  “Just because you haven’t been going out looking for a deal doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t jump on the opportunity if offered, Eli.” She shook her head at him. “Instead, you jump on the man offering.”

  Elijah straightened up and stuffed his hands into his pockets. “Listen, that’s not really my thing. Being photographed… and probably having my family’s privacy invaded, if I were to ever get as big as these other artists on Millennium Records. That – I wouldn’t handle that well.”

  Fallon guessed that she couldn’t really argue with that, but she still thought her friend was a dumbass not to take that opportunity. Even if he only had one successful album, it would be enough to change his life. “You’re an amazing singer and musician. You know that.”

  He nodded. “There are tons of talented people in the world who aren’t running around trying to showcase it.”

  “And there are tons who are trying.”

  “Why would I want to take their spot?”

  Fallon shook her head and looked away. “You’re right. Maybe I’m being greedy and imagining myself as your plus-one to events with hot guys and free alcohol. And Justin Timberlake.”

  “Who is married,” Elijah reminded her.

  Fallon shrugged. “He’s also Justin Timberlake.”

  Elijah couldn’t really argue that logic. He looked back at his mail cart. “Listen, I’m going to let you get back to what you were doing and get out of here.” He faced her and smiled. “I’m proud of you again and I’m sorry about last night.”

  Fallon waved him off as she picked up her coffee mug. “I’m sure it was worth it, Eli. Get out of here and enjoy your date.”

  He rolled his eyes, backing away as his friend laughed. “I’ll text you tonight. Cool?”

  She nodded. “Bye.”

  Elijah made his way over to the elevator and pressed the up button. As he waited. He checked his phone. There was a new message.

  Peanut:

  I’m slumped today. Won’t be able to take a break or get off on time. I’m sorry. Can I text you after work?

  Th
e message made him frown. He was really looking forward to seeing Grayson, whether he’d admit that aloud or not. As he began to reply, a lightbulb illuminated over his head.

  Elijah smiled.

  Elijah:

  Sure. I’ll talk to you later. Don’t forget…

  Chapter 9

  Elijah:

  Sure. I’ll talk to you later. Don’t forget…

  Grayson read the message and quickly responded.

  Grayson:

  Promise I won’t.

  “Let’s run that back from the top.”

  Grayson was happy he got to have a glimpse of what it was like to have a blast the night before, because today, his life had returned to being shitty. His father pushed him into meetings all morning with the heads of distribution and marketing so that he’d get familiarized with them. Little did Mr. Paul know, Grayson could do this stuff in his sleep. Just because he’d been an assistant for a couple years didn’t mean he wasn’t learning the ropes in his spare time.

  When he was finished there, he went straight into the session that The Pretty Committee was currently having. This would take a while, and they had quite a bit to accomplish today. The producer working with them – he called himself X-Phile (insert eye roll here) – hadn’t been managing his time correctly. Add that to the fact that four teenage girls were the clients here and “focus” was far from being a word anyone in the studio was using. Harvey told Grayson that he wanted three songs finished by the end of the day, then he stuck him in the room with them.

  The tricky part about it was Grayson hadn’t really been doing much in the music department of Millennium Records prior to this week. He’d been all administration and Harvey’s shadow. Everyone knew that. Now, he had to get respect from these musicians where he hadn’t been getting it before.

  It was proving to be quite the task.

  The Pretty Committee consisted of four girls; Dana and Laura who were sisters – both 17, and Shelby and Cara, both 18. The four of them grew up in Ohio and were discovered after their catchy song went viral.

  They liked Grayson for whatever reason. He didn’t show them that much attention, that was for certain. It could’ve been that he was ‘Little Paul’, but he appreciated their respect. Even though he was annoying his friends with his whiny complaints, he had to acknowledge that working with them wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been.

  Working with them wasn’t as bad as it was working with these ‘big named’ producers. X-Phile had been giving him a tough time since he walked through the doors.

  Dana was in the booth right now going over her part in their song “Cherish”. One of the label’s big writers had penned the slow jam, and X-Phile was taking the lead in arranging it.

  Grayson felt that he was doing a terrible job.

  He stopped Dana mid-note and walked over to the producer.

  “We have to change that.”

  X-Phile pulled at his Mets cap as he smirked. The Pretty Committee’s manager even smiled.

  “Boy, don’t you have copies to make?” X-Phile asked. “Leave the music making to the grownups.”

  “We’re changing it,” Grayson repeated. “The note is off.”

  “Do you know who he is?” Laura asked. She stood up and placed a hand on her hip.

  Great. He had a gang of adorable teenage girls backing him up.

  “That’s the son of the man who owns this studio. You ought to listen to him.”

  X-Phile looked more amused than he did intimidated, and Grayson figured it was rightfully so. Laura was far from scary, and so was he. His own father didn’t take him seriously, so why would these guys?

  “No offense to anyone in this room,” X-Phile said. “But I’m doing the job his father hired me to do. If Harvey has a problem with this, he’ll let me know.”

  Grayson rubbed at his temple. This day wasn’t going to get any better, was it? “If you want to remain the producer for this song, I’m going to need you to change the arrangement. You’re making her strain here in the studio, what makes you think she’s going to be able to sing that note live?”

  Their manager cut in now. “She can hit the note, kid. Take a seat.”

  “Wait,” X-Phile smiled. “Are you going to fire me? With what authority?”

  “It’s okay,” Dana spoke up from inside the recording booth. The other girls looked at her. “I’ll hit the note. I can do it.”

  “That’s right,” X said. “From the top. Get a drink if you have to.”

  Grayson shook his head and went back to his seat. He looked around the large studio and listened to the terrible arrangement begin on playback. The notes were awkward together. Grayson rubbed his temple.

  After another hour, everyone wrapped for a half-hour break. Grayson told the girls they were doing a good job, ignoring the way Laura smiled at him. They went off to find a Taco Bell and he went back to his office to make a few phone calls. Felicity Miller and Zach Evans, two of their debut artists, had a photoshoot and interview coming up with Billboard Magazine. He had to book their flights from Los Angeles back to New York and make sure that Zach had everything that he needed.

  Zach was a diva.

  What Grayson wasn’t expecting to see when he stepped off the elevator to his floor was his father’s secretary and Elijah Dawson mucking it up near the water cooler.

  Grayson paused for a moment.

  What…?

  Eventually he approached, though he had half a mind to turn around and run.

  Elijah had a paper bag in one hand and a coffee in the other. He was smiling at the woman; trademark brown leather jacket, tight black jeans, Timberland boots. Mrs. Jones continued with whatever the hell she was saying, and as Grayson reached them, he cleared his throat.

  “Oh! Sonny! I was about to call you.” The tiny woman grinned at him. “Your friend stopped by.”

  “Hey, Sonny!” Elijah exclaimed; a wide smile on his face.

  Grayson held back the smile as he looked away from Elijah and around the office to make sure there were no spectators. “What are you doing here?”

  Elijah held up the bag and the cup. “Well, you said that you weren’t going to get a break so I thought I’d bring lunch to you.”

  “Isn’t he sweet?” Mrs. Jones smiled at Elijah and Grayson looked between the two of them.

  “I’m sorry – Do you two know one another?”

  “No,” Elijah said with a laugh. “She was just helping me out.”

  “He’s a very handsome young man, Sonny. You two need to work whatever it is that happened out and get back together!” The heavyset woman gave Grayson a stern look before walking away and returning to her desk.

  Grayson could only stand there with his jaw dropped before Elijah spoke.

  “A bug or two might fly in there and makes babies if you don’t close it.”

  Grayson closed his mouth and looked at him.

  “I told Mrs. Jones about our split. She’s a great listener.”

  “…What is this?”

  “I have thirty minutes left on my break,” Elijah told him. “Do you want to hang out or not, busy man?”

  He looked down at his watch and then around the office again. There were a few onlookers now, but once Grayson glanced in their direction, they quickly looked away.

  Elijah was wearing an expectant but adorable look when Grayson faced him again.

  “I’m only supposed to be taking a few minutes to handle some things, but I don’t think I’m needed down there anyway. Come in.”

  Grayson opened the door to his large corner office and waited for Elijah to join him inside. It took a while, though. Elijah was so busy looking around in amazement.

  “Close your mouth or there’ll be pregnant flies.”

  “You didn’t even say it right,” Elijah responded, staring out at the view from the wide windows. “My god, man. What kind of assistant are you?”

  Grayson smiled as he closed the door and then the blinds so no nosy employees could peer in. “The
one whose dad owns the joint.” He turned to Elijah and took the bag and coffee, walking over to his desk. “Make yourself comfortable.”

  Elijah chewed on his bottom lip as he walked over to look at a painting on the wall. The artwork was a splatter of bright colors - reds, yellows, greens - and below it was a long bookshelf, maybe ten feet long. On top of the smooth, dark surface were a bunch of framed quotes from various musicians. There was also a vase that held a small braided plant. Elijah turned away and saw Grayson’s framed degree and certificates from NYU on the wall.

  He was shocked by the lack of family photos in there. Nothing with his mother or father. No pictures of his friends, or anything, really. Elijah looked at Grayson who sat down right away and made a phone call. As Grayson spoke, Elijah walked over to the leather sofa on the opposite end of the office.

  The door flew open as soon as Elijah took a seat. Harvey Paul was talking before he’d gotten all the way inside.

  “What’s this I hear from X-Phile about –” Harvey stopped midsentence and looked at the boy on the sofa.

  Elijah stared back at him.

  “Who are you?”

  Elijah hadn’t really processed the fact that a spontaneous trip to Millennium Records might involve him seeing a multi-millionaire in the flesh, but that was exactly what was happening. He sat up straight, buttoned the top of his flannel shirt, and cleared his throat.

  “Hello, Mr. Paul. I’m Grayson’s friend.”

  “I’ll call you back,” Grayson said quickly, hanging the phone up and standing to his feet. His father was in the doorway looking back from him to Elijah.

  Mr. Paul was the picture of professionalism. His suit was always tailor-made, his hair was always cut at the perfect length, and his face always let you know that he was a no-nonsense type of guy.

  “Dad, this is my friend, Elijah Dawson. Elijah, my father, Harvey Paul.”

  Elijah stood up and nodded to him. “It’s nice to meet you.”

  Harvey looked at him before facing his son.

  “What is this? A boyfriend?”

  Grayson looked down at his desk. This wasn’t happening. “He’s my friend, dad.”