Alvin snaps the list out of Jacob’s hands. “The whole band has three nods. That’s fucking amazing. Stop being a little bitch.” He scans the list and shrugs. “Andrew Lane for best drummer. Big surprise. I’m sure he’ll win for the fifth year in a row.” He tosses the list to Garrett.
“Best Heavy Metal Performance is new this year, so that’s pretty cool.” Garrett flicks his finger against the paper. “Although, Flying Fang and Fuzeboys barely qualify as metal.”
“Neither does ‘Candy Jar,’ technically.” Jacob scoffs. “Heavy Metal Performance? For ‘Candy Jar?’ How fucking embarrassing.”
Thom points one sausage finger at him. “Work that snide attitude out of your system now. After you leave my office, every single one of you better be nothing but sunshine and humility. Everyone who’s ever won gets a vote, so keep your opinions about your colleagues to yourself.”
“Yeah, got it.” Jacob hangs his head. “Three nominations are pretty fucking cool.”
Garrett slaps Jacob’s shoulder. “People are going to expect us to write ‘Candy Jar’ over and over for the rest of our fucking lives.”
“It beats no one wanting you to write anything,” Thom counters. “This is a huge deal. Breakout Video and Video of the year. I don’t think any artist has done that before.” His gaze swings to Chaser. “And Guitar God. Come on. That’s—”
Chaser raises a hand to cut Thom off. “I’m stoked. No complaints here.”
Thom flicks a look my way. “Video Vixen? This was your first official acting job, wasn’t it?”
“Y-yes. I’m stunned but really excited. I can’t believe it.” Sure, I hate the video, and my nipples are probably the only reason I got the nomination, but it’s still recognition.
Thom redirects his commanding sausage finger my way. “There. That’s the attitude I want to see from every single one of you. Take some lessons from Mallory on grace and humbleness.”
Jacob rolls his eyes at me.
“You’ve got time before the awards show,” Thom says. “I’ll work my sources to keep ‘Candy Jar’ playing.”
Oh, goodie.
“You stay out of trouble.” Thom’s stern dad attitude returns. “We clear?”
Everyone answers with some sort of affirmative noise, while I try to ignore what I think is jealousy glinting in Jacob’s eyes.
Chapter Fifty
Mallory
“Congratulations!” Pamela’s voice coos out of our answering machine. “Call me!”
“You better call her back, it’s probably about the show,” Chaser says.
“You don’t think it’s about the award nominations?”
“Thom said it won’t be officially announced until tomorrow.”
As if she won’t know about Andrew’s nomination. But instead of arguing about it, I just call Pamela back and get it over with.
“Hello, Miss Video Vixen,” she answers.
I point to the phone and mouth, “She knows” at Chaser, who laughs and shrugs.
“You already heard, huh?” I say to Pamela.
“Duh, Andrew’s dick manager woke us up with his news this morning. Are you excited?”
“Yeah, I’m shocked too.”
“So was I.”
Gee, thanks.
“I wouldn’t tell anyone on the set if you can help it. Video Vixen isn’t really all that impressive to serious actors, you know?”
Couldn’t let me enjoy it for a few minutes, could you?
“I wasn’t planning to.”
“Anyway, I called to see if you want me to pick you up in the morning?”
Chaser and I haven’t really discussed my transportation needs since we returned. Even though he says otherwise, I can’t help feeling like some of the blame for his addiction falls on me. I can’t depend on him to drive me to work every day. “That would be great. Are you sure I’m not out of your way?”
“Everything’s out of the way in Hollywood. It’s fine. I’ll pick you up at seven, okay?”
“See you then.”
“Who are you seeing when?” Chaser asks.
“Pamela’s picking me up at seven.”
His mouth turns down. “I wanted to drop you off tomorrow.”
“I’m not a little kid going to my first day of school, Chaser.” I wave my hands at him. “Don’t you need to be in the studio mixing the album or whatever?”
“Yeah. Somehow I don’t think it’ll be as easy as Thom thinks.”
“No kidding.” I tap his chest. “Watch out for Jacob. His wounded pride isn’t going to let the snub from the music awards slide for long.”
“Christ. It’s not like it’s the VMAs or the Grammy’s.”
I press my hand over his lips. “Humility and grace,” I remind him in a bad imitation of Thom’s stern manager voice.
He chuckles and kisses my palm, before tugging it away from his mouth. “I’d only say that to you.”
“Pamela told me not to mention it on the set. As if I was going to go in wearing a Video Vixen sash across my chest the first day. I’m so nervous, I’ll be lucky if I don’t pee my pants.”
He loosely wraps his arms around my waist. “You sure you wouldn’t rather have me take you? She’ll probably make you even more anxious.”
“Maybe. But it’ll be nice to have a friend on the set, you know?”
“Some friend,” he mutters.
I poke him in the gut. “Hey, this is your fault for being best buds with Andrew.”
“Actually,” he teases, drawing out the word, “You met Pamela first. So technically, you brought them into our lives.”
“Oh my God.” I cover my mouth with both hands. “You’re right.”
He tickles his fingers over my ribs. “You’re going to be awesome tomorrow. Don’t let Pamela rattle you.”
I should’ve taken Chaser’s warning more seriously.
“Is that what you’re wearing?” Pamela asks after I’m situated in the passenger seat of her shiny, black Porsche. “It doesn’t matter. You’ll be in a bathing suit and bathrobe most of the day, anyway.”
I glance down at my white denim skirt and pink T-shirt, not sure what’s so offensive about it.
We both have to produce ID to be allowed onto the set. Even Pamela, which helps me feel less like an outsider.
She zips into a spot in front of a long, narrow building and turns to grab her bag. “Ready?”
“I think so.”
She leaves me in the hands of one of the show’s assistants. I’m taken to wardrobe, fitted with a bright yellow bathing suit cut low in the front and high on the hips, then dropped off at makeup, where I finally see a friendly face.
“Cindy! How are you?”
“Nervous as heck.” She lowers her voice. “It’s my first day too.”
“It’s meant to be. We’re going to do all our Hollywood firsts together.” I laugh and hug her.
“I sort of let it slip that I’d worked with you before.” Cindy drops her gaze. “I hope you don’t mind.”
“Oh my God, of course not. I’m so excited you’re here!” Even though I haven’t seen her since the disastrous Blue Alien Incident, it’s like we’re old friends.
We catch up while she spackles makeup over my face and chest. Finally, I’m presentable and sent onto the set.
Even though I don’t have a lot of lines, I’m in the background a lot and need to be present all day. For a show about lifeguards, it seems like we spend an awful lot of time taking showers.
But who cares? I’m on a real television show!
By the end of the day, I’m tired but still buzzing with excitement from my first day.
“How do you feel?” Pamela asks me on our way to the dressing room.
“Good. It was fun.”
“That’ll wear off,” she promises. “I need to speak to Steve. I’ll meet you out by the car?”
“Okay.” I watch her walk off in the direction of the director’s office, before continuing down the hall. I’m inches from
stepping inside the wardrobe room when I catch my name.
“We should probably burn Mallory’s swimsuit.” Laughter follows the comment. “Bet she’s riddled with STDs from dating that loser rock star.”
“And probably blowing the producer,” another female voice whines. “I’m sure she’s just as slutty as her bestie, Pam.”
More laughter.
The sting of humiliation washes over me. This is how people see me? Because I’m friends with Pamela and date a musician? They don’t even know me.
“That’s not true.” Cindy’s timid voice perks my ears up. Knowing she’s new to the show makes me appreciate her defending me even more. “Mallory’s not like that. We worked on a movie together. Skylar Mars hit on her, and she told him off. Her boyfriend punched him out. It was in all the papers.”
“That guy is so gross,” the first one says. They move on to discussing different directors and sets they’ve worked on, thankfully forgetting all about me.
Cindy steps out of the room, knocking into me. “I’m sorry!” Her guilty eyes ping between me and the room she just left.
I reach out and touch her shoulder. “Thank you for defending me.”
Her lips quiver. “I couldn’t let that slide. I’m sorry you overheard it, though.”
“Better I know early on what I’m in for, right?” I try to give her a reassuring smile, but inside, I’m dying to get home to the one person who cares about me.
Chapter Fifty-One
Chaser
So much for mixing the album in a day.
The “live” tracks will be polished by another team, and we won’t have much say over how they turn out. We nailed our gritty version of ‘Candy Jar,’ and I hope to fuck no one messes with it. ‘Hammer to the Heart’ ended up being acoustic, something we’ve never tried before, so that was fun. The two cover songs were cool, and we did our best to put a unique spin on each of them, but they’re not as exciting as our four brand new tracks.
We’re almost finished mixing those songs. Watching the whole process was a lot of fun and having Mallory join me in the evenings was even better.
Our sound engineer Tony manually works the board, making adjustments every time one of us has a suggestion. He has to do each song in one take, flicking knobs and faders while the music plays. The guy’s a genius. An absolute machine the way he expertly manages to have his fingers in four places at once, depending on what aspect of our sound he’s tweaking.
Maybe because we’re all so attached to it, “Queen of the Road” has been the hardest song to nail down. Every one of us seems to have a different vision for the final sound.
Garrett’s version was straight up ridiculous. All you could hear was the bass and Jacob’s screams. Alvin’s drumming and my playing were barely background noise.
We redid it several times.
And it’s finally perfect.
We all sit around the studio to listen to the full version of “Queen of the Road” one last time, before calling it finished.
It’s flawless. Every note. Every element is there. The perfect song to close out a short album that includes some of the best performances we’ve ever recorded.
“This is my favorite.” I bump Mallory’s shoulder.
She lets out a sigh and leans against me. “I’m so…proud of you guys. I can’t believe I watched you take it from that little riff…to what it is now. It’s incredible.”
“No, no.” Jacob starts pacing as soon as the song’s finished. “It still needs something more.”
We’ve abused Tony quite a bit throughout this process. But today, he seems ready to take the long walk up to the roof and dive right the fuck off the edge.
“He’s right,” Garrett adds. “The bridge needs some element we’re missing.”
“More drama!” Jacob snaps his fingers.
“Okay,” I answer slowly. “What do you suggest?”
“The song drips sleaze and sex. It needs something extra filthy—”
“So, what do you want?” Tony’s exasperation comes through clearly. Thom’s probably going to get a full-length report of all the grief we caused him the last couple days. “You want to go beat off in the live room and have me record it?”
“Yes!” Jacob and Garrett clap their hands together.
“No.” Alvin and I say at the same time.
“Well, not me.” Jacob’s face takes on a sinister shade I don’t trust. And I really don’t care for him aiming that evil expression at my girl. “Mallory. We all know how…ahem vocal you get at certain pleasurable moments.”
I push up off the counter I’d been leaning on, prepared to beat the shit out of Jacob. “Watch yourself.”
Mallory’s wide eyes dart between Jacob and me. I’m sure she’s regretting coming down here today. “I’m not a singer.”
“No, but you’re a screamer.” Jacob rubs his hands together like he’s appointed himself the band’s official evil genius. “You two go in the live room. We’ll light some candles. Get you in the mood and then record her orgasmic screams. Layer it over the bridge…”
His voice trails off in the now dead-silent room.
“Are you out of your fucking mind?” Alvin finally asks.
“What?” Jacob shrugs. “It’ll sound so cool. It’s exactly what that song needs. Our candy girl can forever be immortalized on one of our records.”
I can’t tell if he sincerely thinks he’s paying Mallory a compliment, or he’s risen to new levels off assholery. Either way, I’m not entertaining this discussion.
Mallory’s scared eyes meet mine. “I can’t do that, Chaser,” she whispers.
Of course she can’t. Nor would I ever ask her to.
Jacob turns his talk-to-your-woman eyes my way. “Chaser. Come on.”
“Absolutely fucking not.”
“We need to break through this squeaky, clean, glitter metal image that video gave us.” Jacob hooks his arm around Garrett’s shoulders. “You know me and G are gutter rats.”
“You’re from Canoga Park,” Alvin says.
“Doesn’t matter.” Jacob jabs his finger in my direction. “Here’s the problem. You think you’re too sophisticated to be associated with something like that but that’s what this band was all about when we started. It’s exactly what we need to reclaim our street cred.”
“Sophisticated?” There’s something I’ve never been accused of before.
“Back in the day, you would’ve been in there, dick in hand, slick and ready to fuck your girl. Out of all of us, you were the biggest gutter rat.”
Even at the dirtiest points of my life, I don’t think I would’ve been eager to record myself in the act and slap it on an album. “Let me guess, you’re fucking high. Again.”
The room’s silent. It’s the first time I’ve had to call Jacob out in front of everyone since we got sober.
“Don’t act all saintly now that you’re squeaky clean. All our heroes were high when they created their masterpieces.”
“It would create buzz for the EP.” Garrett seems to be putting as much enthusiasm into his voice as humanly possible in an effort to stop Jacob and I from coming to blows. “We’re already worried sales will be slow because it’s not a full-length record. We can plant the rumor that ‘Queen of the Road’ has live orgasms mixed in. Everyone will buy a copy to find out if it’s true. Think about all the publicity you two have already gotten. People will go nuts when they find out they can listen to Mallory Dove’s orgasm noises.”
Somewhere in the middle of the conversation, Mallory’s moved behind me, her fingers curled into my belt loops, hanging on tight.
Jacob peers around my side. “What’s the big deal, Mal? We’re not, like, gonna watch or anything. We’ll all leave if it makes you more—”
This has gone on long enough. I slap my hand against his chest, pushing him back. “Don’t talk to her.”
“Why so shy now? We’ve all heard you two go at it like animals for months.”
I curl my
fists, ready to knock Jacob the fuck out.
“Come on, Jacob. That’s enough. Drop it,” Alvin says. “This isn’t cool.”
“Guys, this EP is killer,” Tony says, dipping his toes back into the conversation. “And EPs sell. Bloody Revolver’s last one entered the charts at number five. What you guys did here is better than anything they’ve ever recorded. You won’t need some cheap rumor to sell it.”
“It’s not cheap,” Jacob argues. “It’s bold and artistic.”
“Oh-kay.” Tony rolls his eyes and strolls out of the room.
Poor bastard. This isn’t what he signed up for. How did things snowball out of control so fast?
“Let’s do it now.” Jacob jumps up and claps his hands. “We can have it done and ready to—”
“No. I’m not discussing this further.”
“Fine!” Jacob throws his hands in the air. “I’ll find someone else to do it, but it won’t have the same emotional meaning to it that Mallory would give.”
What the fuck ever that’s supposed to mean.
“The song’s fine without any theatrics. Let’s leave it alone,” Alvin pleads.
“Sure.” Jacob’s gaze skips to the now-dark live room, and I don’t exactly trust him when he says, “Then it’s a wrap.”
Chapter Fifty-Two
Mallory
A coating of ickiness lingers on my skin after leaving the studio.
Outside on the sidewalk, Chaser rests his hands on my shoulders. “I’m so sorry, little dove. You know I’d never ask you to do something like that.”
“I don’t understand why Jacob would think I’d want to.”
“He’s been watching too much porn, I guess.”
“I may not be an expert, but the song already sounded so good. I can’t imagine adding some moaning and groaning will elevate it.”
“It won’t. I don’t even know where he came up with such a stupid idea.”
Blow My Fuse (Hollywood Demons Book 2) Page 24
