Hollywood After Dark Ch. 03

She was very pissed now. I wanted to say something to calm her down, something to get her to stop and think about her life - her life with me and the life of her career that she seemed so hellbent on launching at whatever cost. Instead, it seemed that I only enraged her further.

"I don't trust Wilton Willis. There is some strange stuff going on behind the scenes at Antamount, sexual favors and some sort of weird club or something where women are treated like whores for the men's benefit. I don't want to say conspiracy but,"

She laughed bitterly. "Oh Alex, how pitiful you are when you are drunk. First you didn't want me to leave because you wanted to support me. Now the truth comes out: you're just jealous. In fact, you are so jealous that you will say anything to make yourself feel better, including thinking that the world is out to get you and me. That shit's not healthy Alex, I think you might need some counseling.

I sighed. This was going nowhere. I decided to make one last effort.

"Petty, look. You can mock me and laugh at me all you want now; I don't care, I probably won't remember it. But please...if our time together these past few months, if the LOVE you said you had for me meant anything at all for you, then please please please let's talk about this in the morning. I love you Petty and I don't want to lose you,"

Her voice softened and I saw a hint of reservation in her eyes. But she was too stubborn, too independent and too focused to even cave into something like love.

"I can't Alex. What's done is done, what's been said has been said. I'm sorry, but it's over," she said softly. I groaned and laid my head back down on the couch. Petty walked around behind me and towards the closet, getting out a blanket.

She draped it over me as she reached down and undid my shoes. For a moment, I thought the tenderness and affection had returned, that everything had gone back to the way it was before. But it wasn't to be.

"Sleep out here tonight, I have already packed up most of my things and the moving van is coming at 6:30. I'll be gone when you wake up. Good luck Alex, I hope you do okay in this world, this business," she said, kissing my cheek gently for the last time.

I closed my eyes tightly, not wanting to respond to her despite the change in her mood. I heard her walk away from the couch a minute later, the soft sound of her feet followed by the shutting of the bedroom door. Once again I was back sleeping on my own sofa, though this time probably being the last. Looking back on it now, I would trade a thousand nights on that sofa for just one more night in my bed with Petty. But that night, I didn't realize what I was about to lose.

Exhaling softly as I pulled the blanket up to my chin, I felt exhaustion take over. My last thoughts for the day were not of Petty. They were of that tattoo on Monica's body, the image still haunting me as I passed out into sleep.

HAPSBORO'S STORY:

God, I don't know where Wilton finds these women. He seems to be pretty dead on with the actresses he sends to me to recruit in his movies, but I seriously think the old man is slipping when it comes to picking musical talent. I mean, Jesus! Could he have found someone with even more limited vocal range than this new girl? I can't even remember her name...Pretty or Pinky or Petty or something like that.

I sighed as I blissfully removed the CD from my desk stereo, thankful that the grating voice of this woman wasn't invading my ears anymore. I had just gotten the demo tape from Bill over in the music studio and I simply had to agree that this girl was going to take a lot of effort to turn her into a star. Normally Bill is pretty curmudgeon on these sorts of things, fighting against myself and Wilton to keep from having to mix and produce more teeny-bopper music for the studio. But he was deadly accurate with this girl I now realized, the three songs she laid down more than enough to last me a lifetime.

Not that there was much I could do, mind you. Wilton had given me strict instructions to spare no expense in making her a star, and if that meant heavy studio editing and mixing, or "studio magic" as the music people called it, then that was what would have to be done. And she was coming in today, at Wilton's insistence, to provide backing vocals for Beyonce Knowles solo project. I hope that her wailing doesn't drag down Beyonce's rising career, because THAT would be an even worse tragedy for the studio. Granted, this Petty girl looked decent enough; give her a sassy haircut, some tight fitting clothes and the MTV crowd would drool. But musically, this was going to be a serious endeavour and not one that I really wanted to have my name involved with.

"Mr. Hapsboro?" my intercom speaker buzzed.

"Yes Trudy?" I replied, thankful for the distraction of thinking about this musical disaster waiting to happen.

"Ms. Dushku is here to see you sir,"

"Send her in Trudy," I said. Well, at least the day wasn't starting out too horribly.

I heard footsteps in the hall and a knock on the door a moment later.

"Come in," I said, putting away the CD player and straightening my desk. I had always had a certain degree of affection for Eliza and even though it felt silly, I couldn't help but act like a little kid with a crush every time she was around.

She walked in through the door briskly, wearing a simple t-shirt and jean shorts that came almost all the way up her long, elegant legs, stopping finally just above her calves. Without any hesitation or motioning from me, she sat down in the chair across from my desk.

"Hey Gord, what's up?" Eliza said, crossing her legs as she made herself comfortable.

"Same old bullshit, as usual Eliza. I got a call from Salma last night. Sounds like you had quite a bit of fun with the Heigl woman,"

Eliza grinned. "Yeah, it was quite a scene. Me busily giving her the mark while Salma and some other girls fucked her brains out. You should have seen it,"

"I'm sorry I missed it. I take it that there will be no trouble with this latest member then?"

"No, she's a total pushover. I think deep down she may be a dyke, like a lot of these women. Or at least very bi-curious without a doubt. We gave her some special government grade pot before we got started and she was very relaxed, very submissive throughout the whole thing. The Mistress really gets off on that sort of thing I think,"

"You know Eliza, you don't have to call her the Mistress when she isn't around,"

Eliza grinned. "Sorry, I guess it's just a habit. Speaking of habits, do you have any more candy for me?"

I reached into my desk drawer and pulled out a heavy brown bag. Inside was enough drugs and paraphernalia to last a junkie for weeks. However, being that I was now the main dealer for countless junkies, I knew without a doubt that Eliza would be back in here by week's end, asking for more.

Holding the back away from the desk, I "accidentally" dropped it onto my lap.

"Darn! Would you look at that Eliza? I seemed to have lost my grip on it and it has landed directly in my lap. Would you mind coming and getting it from me?" I said with a grin.

Eliza smiled wickedly at me. "You know, you aren't the most subtle man in Hollywood Gordon. You know that right?"

"I do. Not that it bothers me in the slightest at least," I replied.

Standing up, Eliza walked over to my chair where I sat and I rolled away a bit from the desk. Within moments, she was down on her knees, stroking my already hardening cock with her hand as my pants fell onto the floor. Lowering her mouth, Eliza sucked on my prick fiendishly, a skilled veteran. When Wilton had first found her, she couldn't give a blowjob to save her life. Now though, she was sucking dick better than any whore you could likely find on the street.

I leaned back in the chair and ran my hand over Eliza's head, guiding her up and down as she bobbed on my cock, removing the six inches out as she licked it from base to tip, her hand busily fondling my balls. She sucked hard on my prick, her cheeks tightening around the length as she deep throated me, the mushroom shaped tip battering against the back of her throat. I always enjoyed getting these blowjobs from Eliza, and despite her allegiance to all that Rose Petals nonsense, I think she enjoyed giving head too. Wilton had certainly awakened the inner slut in her, without a doubt.

Letting my shaft slide out from her throat, Eliza licked at the slit in the top of my prick with her tongue, working it inside as she clasped her lips around the head, sucking on it tightly. The feeling was electric, and I reached down and pulled her head down onto the length of my shaft quickly, forcing it all once again down her throat as my load arrived.

I grunted as I shot stream after stream of cum into Eliza's mouth, which she quickly swallowed like a diligent whore, not letting any drops get out from her lips. As I felt my orgasm subside, I pushed Eliza away from me, causing her to topple back on the floor. I half expected her to be pissed off about this sudden movement but she simply regained her balance, took the back off the floor and stood up, wiping her mouth with her lips.

"Thanks Gord, I'll give you a call if I need any more," Eliza said, walking towards the door.

"No, thank YOU," I said quietly to myself, out of her ear shot as she shut the door behind her. As the door closed behind Eliza, not a moment later did it open again to reveal Petty standing in the doorway, looking nervous. I saw Eliza pass by her, winking at Petty as she disappeared down the hall.

"Mr. Hapsboro? Can I come in?" the girl said, her voice weak.

"Yes my dear, please have a seat," I replied as she cautiously walked over to the chair, timid as a mouse. She was dressed fairly conservatively with a knee length dress and a white cotton blouse on, her blonde hair pulled back behind her head in a pony tail. She didn't wear much makeup, but the natural lines of her face still made her appear quite attractive.

"Ok Petty, I've listened to your tape and I love it. You're going to be a huge star, I can already tell," I said to her in my fake excited voice. She smiled widely, a naive and happy smile at someone like me lavishing such praise onto her.

"Thank you Mr. Hapsboro. Is it really that good?"

"Oh, it's the best. Now, before we start working on an album of your own, we wanted to get you involved with another artist to do some background work. Think of it as the same way Dido was used in Eminem's song to launch her own career, hmm?"

"Actually, she had already recorded her album and Eminem just sampled it," Petty said. I was a little irritated by this remark - I hated being corrected.

"Yes, well, regardless she is now famous. You don't have any problems with doing something like that do you?"

"No, none at all," she replied excitedly. God this girl was just ripe for the plucking.

"Good. Then follow me," I said, standing from my chair and heading towards the door of the office, holding it open for her like a proper gentleman as she passed, though I couldn't help but stare at her ass as she walked.

PETTY'S STORY:

I felt Hapsboro's hand on my back as he guided me towards an elevator down the hall from his office. As the metal doors closed around us, Hapsboro spoke again.

"What we are going to do, is have you provide the backing vocals for a new song that Beyonce Knowles is recording. You play the guitar acoustically for her and sing during the chorus. It's mostly Beyonce's show, but you'll get full credit and a 'featuring' credit on the album. That sound ok to you?" Hapsboro said.

I only nodded at him, for my mouth was too dry to properly answer. This was it! I was really in the big time now! I could feel my heart beating rapidly in my chest now, the thundering beat of it making the blood rush in my ears. I knew that this whole thing was big, but...wow.

"Are you ok?" I heard Hapsboro say.

"Hmm..what?" I said, my voice finally returning.

Hapsboro smiled. "Never mind. You just looked a little woozy there for a second,"

"It's just all so exciting for me, I hope you don't mind me saying so,"

"Not at all. I remember when I was first starting out, right after Mr. Willis took me under his wing. I mean, I had worked in businesses before but never entertainment. This is a dream factory, and it can all be very overwhelming when you first get into it,"

I nodded again as the elevator stopped, Hapsboro holding the door open for me as I stepped out. We were now in some sort of underground parking garage, the lot lit only by the overhanging fluorescent lights. We walked along the paved ground from one building to the other, the satisfying ding of the new elevator opening up the exact same layout as the one we had just been in.

We rode up a few floors before stepping out into another office. This one was just as busy as Hapsboro's had been, and the layout seemed to be the exact same if not for the sign on the wall that read ANTAMOUNT RECORDS instead of ANTAMOUNT STUDIOS.

"This way my dear," Hapsboro said, leading me into a room at the end of a hall. Shutting the door behind him, the noise from outside vanished completely and, looking around, I realized that we were in a soundproof room. There was a pair of technicians sitting behind a glass paned wall, headsets on over their ears as we entered. Hapsboro didn't even bother knocking, just opened the door and led us in. He must have had more important things to deal with or something.

One of the technicians took off his headphones to look at us while the other was busy listening to the sound coming through his own. Glancing across the massive sound board in front of them, I saw Beyonce sitting on a chair, singing into a microphone passionately. My heart skipped a beat at being so close to this star, and knowing full well that I would be working with her in just a matter of minutes.

"Petty, this is Bill Blake. He will help you out the rest of the afternoon, ok? Right now I really have to be going. I'm sure we will talk later on Petty," Hapsboro said, hustling out the door. I stood there awkwardly for a moment as I saw the technician checking me out. He sighed heavily and then walked over to a closet on the far side of the room. Opening the metal doors, he pulled out a pair of headphones for me and a very expensive, very high quality Gibson acoustic guitar. Handing both of these to me, he took his seat again.

"When Beyonce finishes this song, you are going to go in there and play the background music solo first. Following that, we will get the two of you singing together. Does that sound ok? Have you ever done any recording before?" Blake asked.

"Yes, I mean no, I mean...yes, that sounds fine but no I haven't recorded before," I said, my words stammering quickly out of me. I was too nervous, I thought to myself. Just take a deep breath and calm down.

"Here's the sheet music, Beyonce is almost done. Don't worry if you don't get every note exactly when we are recording, there is going to be a heavy beat behind all the music anyways. Mr. Willis just wanted to put you in on guitar for this song and get you doing a duet with Beyonce," Blake said.

A moment later, I saw Beyonce as she removed the head phones and walked out of the sound room to where we were. I grew excited, wanting to shake her hand, but she completely ignored me as she headed straight for Bill.

"That was a great track guys, I was really feeling the flow of the song, you know? What's next?" Beyonce said. She was dressed casually in a pair of hip hugger jeans and an oversized baseball style jersey. Her long hair was pulled back in a crimp behind her head, a far cry from the afro I had seen her sporting during the premiere of "Austin Powers 3" a few weeks ago.

"Mr. Willis wants us to bring in some new talent with you on this album, the young lady standing right here. Goes by the name of Petty," Bill said, motioning towards me. He was occupied working the dials of the mixing board.

Beyonce finally looked at me, stepping forward to shake my hand.

"Hey girl. So you going to tear it up all Hendrix style and shit on me?" she said. I felt suddenly confused.

"What?"

"I said are you going to get all crazy with the guitar for one of my tracks," Beyonce said, pointing towards the guitar I clutched in my hand.

I blushed. "Oh! Yes, they want me to do the backing acoustic and...a duet with you I think, if that's ok,"

"Sure, whatever. Anyone who is handpicked by Mr. Willis is ok by me," Beyonce said.

"Ok Petty, we are ready for you to get started," Bill said, looking up at me.

"Guess you better get going girl," Beyonce said. She extended her hand and I shook it gently in my own. "Good luck, I'll come back in a few for that vocal,"

I stood there watching as Beyonce walked out of the room, her thin and beautiful body swishing and swaying with each step. I felt overwhelmed by the whole thing...did I REALLY just shake her hand?

"Petty? Petty?" I heard Bill say.

"What?" I replied, shaking myself out of my daydream.

"I said get in there. Time is money, you know?" Bill said.

"Oh, right," I replied, opening the door of the sound room and walking into the sound proofed room. The lines were covered with thick padding from floor to ceiling to grab the acoustics of the room completely and save for a hanging down microphone and a chair with a music stand by it, the room was completely empty. Taking a seat in the chair, I looked back towards the glass at Bill and the other technician whose name I still didn't know. It was weird seeing them that way, as it felt like I was in some sort of space ship, the lights from above brightly lighting everything in the room around me, the reflection of which blurred my ability to see completely in the studio room.

I put on the head phones I had been given and placed the sheet music on the stand. Settling myself down with the guitar over my knee, I tuned it routinely as I scanned over the music. It was pretty simple stuff, mostly baseline rhythm and a very simple chorus line that repeated three times through out the song. Not exactly Julliard musical school difficulty, but then again given the R&B genre in general, a simple beat was all it often took to make a hit song.

Strumming a few bars, I began to work my way through song line by line, slowly at first then going faster and more in time to the rhythm as I kept time in my head. I had learned to really appreciate my Mid-Western parents for getting me those music lessons when I was a little girl, for it had helped me bring out a seemingly natural talent for perfect pitch and the ability to read music almost on the fly, hearing it note for note in my head.

Reaching the end of the piece, I started over again just like I always did when I was learning a new song. I worked my way through this time without any hesitation at all, only blowing one note by accident when my finger slipped off a string. I was so in tune to the music in fact, that it was only when I saw the door from the sound booth open that I finally stopped.

"What are you doing?" Bill asked, a look of amazement on his face.

"I'm just learning the song. Did I do something wrong?" I asked.

"No...it's just...I've never seen anyone pick up a piece of music that quickly," he said, a little dumbfounded.

I blushed again. "It's just something I've learned how to do I guess,"

Bill nodded, his mouth still slightly agape.

"Ok, well listen on your headphones for my cue and then start from the beginning. I thought this would take hours to get done but you seem to have learned it in 20 minutes. I want to get this track laid down now, while you still have that spark," he said excitedly. I couldn't help but smile and laugh a little at him as he shut the door and raced back to his seat at the sound board.