Hollywood After Dark Ch. 04

Finding the appropriate lines, I signed my name, initialed where it told me to and X-ed where I had to. Handing the heavy clipboard back to Roger, he smiled as the elevator dinged at our floor.

"Thanks. Now, follow me," he said, leading the way.

Like my first experience with Antamount's offices, the ones at MTV were nothing to be impressed about. They looked like any other office building, with people rushing by and doors opening and closing to offices as phones rang constantly. We walked through a metal door labeled simply SETS and that's when the magic of television finally showed itself.

We passed by the MTV News set, empty right now except for a janitor sweeping up, the lights hanging high over head turned off. I could see the desk where many an MTV News anchor sat, the blue screen behind them giving away the secrets to the world of television. We passed through another door at the end of the hall and I knew from the chatter behind it as we approached that this must be where TRL was.

It was just like you see on the show, only much bigger. The set was in the corner of the building, the resident teenagers sitting patiently as they chatted with themselves and to friends on cell phones, just like the ones outside. Carson Daly was standing off to the side, the makeup people applying the finishing touches as he stared out the window to watch the traffic go by. The rest of the room was pretty much empty, the set fading away like a piece of a puzzle lost from it's brothers, as camera men checked angles and production assistants moved like ants, scurrying around as the show was about to start. Roger led me up to Carson Daly as the makeup assistant walked away.

"Carson, this is Petty. She's going to be doing the duet with Beyonce later on in the show," Roger said, motioning for us to shake hands. He looked at me and smiled, shaking my hand. He was much shorter than I had thought, the screen obviously giving him height.

"Hi, glad you're going to be on the show. I love your new song with Beyonce, it's kickin," he said warmly.

"Uh, thanks," I said, letting my hand fall to my side. I had expected something more than "kickin" for praise but whatever works.

Carson walked to a nearby table and opened a bottle of water, sipping it gently so as not to mess up his makeup from any splashing. Not knowing what else to do, I followed him over.

"So, how's the show going?" I asked, trying to make small talk.

"It's not bad I guess. The ratings are still high so I guess I will get to do this for a while longer," he replied. I looked into his eyes, trying to see if he was really as slow witted as the show made him appear, or if it was all just an act. Sadly, there didn't seem to be much going on behind them as he smiled dopily at me.

"This will be a good show. First you and Beyonce will perform, then later we have Avril Lavinge stopping by to play one of her jams," he said, reverting again to that "hip" lingo of his audience.

"Cool. I'm really nervous about this whole thing. I've never been on television before," I said, feeling strangely comfortable opening up to him.

"Na, don't worry about it. Our viewers don't really care how you act, in case you didn't notice, so if you mess up, it ain't no thang,"

His use of slang was starting to annoy me, so I looked for a way out of the conversation.

"Have you seen Roger? He just sort of left me here and I needed to talk to him about something," I lied, looking worried as best as I could as I looked around.

"Who?"

"The guy who introduced us,"

"Sorry, I'm not following,"

"Never mind," I said, backing away from him. I walked over to where a group of PA's were standing, standing away from them so as not to get in the way. Over a loud speaker that I guess I hadn't seen when I walked in, a voice called "30 seconds to air"

People now scrambled like mad, Carson walking over to the set as the audience applauded and cheered wildly. A PA handed him a microphone as he straightened his hair, smiling at the crowd.

"10 seconds!"

I moved where I could see things, inadvertently stepping in the way of a camera for a moment before one of the young assistants yanked me hard by the arm, pulling me back. I felt resentment towards her as the show began - how dare she jerk me around like that? I was one of the guests today!

"5...4...3...2..."

"Hi, I'm Carson Daly and welcome to Total Request Live. We have a great show today, Beyonce Knowles is here to do her hit song with Petty, and Avril Lavinge will be stopping by later in the show for an interview and to sing as well. But let's kick things off right now with a new video from Britney Spears..."

Beyonce arrived on set about 5 minutes before we were supposed to go on, her entourage carrying all her things: wardrobe, purse, bottled water, etc as she pranced around like a diva, pausing only to let the makeup people descend upon her. She saw me standing there watching the show and as I turned to look at her, she smirked widely at me, winking out of her left eye. I felt myself blush - if only the people here knew about our night in her hotel room...

The show went to a commercial and both Beyonce and I were rushed onto the set. I had put on makeup before leaving, but apparently not to the satisfaction of the people of the show, because they lunged on me, pulling my hair this way and that and adding powder to my face and arms as I took a seat on a stool on the main stage of the show. Beyonce walked in front of me, adjusting the microphone to her height as she straightened her hair. She wore a red leather cat suit like thing, the front zipped almost all the way down to expose her ample cleavage. I was handed a guitar as I sat there, feeling very nervous. I tried not to think about the huge audience watching, about all the things that could go wrong in the song. Instead, I found myself envisioning the clubs in LA where I had first gotten my start, the blinding stage lights keeping the audience from my view as I sang. The thought of this inevitably brought Alex to my mind and I could feel myself growing upset from all the emotions running through me right then and there.

Somehow sensing this, Beyonce turned and looked at me, smiling warmly.

"Don't sweat it girl, we are gonna knock them dead!" she said enthusiastically as a stage hand called out that the show was about to come back. I sighed to myself heavily as I straightened the guitar on my knee and the people around me suddenly vanished, scurrying out of the way of the camera.

"Hey, welcome back to TRL. Continuing her solo career, today we have Beyonce Knowles from Destiny's Child here to perform her new song "Mind Boggling Man", featuring new comer Petty on the guitar. This song is off the hook, so if you haven't heard it then you will really be in for a treat," Carson said. The audience clapped and cheered politely as I saw the camera from the side of the room move over to us. The now familiar baseline to me began to kick in the background as Beyonce went into performer mode, strutting and flaunting her golden brown body for the camera's lens as my hand instinctively began to play along to the music.

Beyonce stepped up to the microphone and closed her eyes, her hips swaying as the tempo got to the first verse. Sighing to myself again, I knew there was no turning back.

"OOOOhhh let me tell ya honey, oh yeah, about my mind bogglin' man!...Uhh! He comes home every night...sayin he workin as hard as he can, oh yeah!" Beyonce sang, her voice booming from her thin body like a woman twice her size.

"But when I see him out there...workin' all the hours...I know he out with another girl...givin her MY flowers!"

This was my cue.

"Hey sista...you don't need that mista...we ain't got no need in this world...for that mind bogglin man!" I sang, my voice hitting all the right notes and encouraging me further as the chorus faded into Beyonce's second verse via a series of beeps and thumps.

As the song wore on, I felt myself relaxing completely and getting very much into the groove of the song. We had sung it over and over while recording and I knew the words by heart now as Beyonce and I finished up our 3 minute set.

"So come on girls, let's go girls, all the girls...ditch that MIND BOGGLIN' MANNNNNNNNNNNNNN!!!!" Beyonce sang in a final crescendo as the song ended.

The audience went absolutely wild, clapping and yelling and cheering so much that it actually scared me. I had never heard an audience get that rowdy before, at least when I was the performer and not a cheering member of the audience. I stood up on shaky knees and turned towards them, smiling as I bowed politely, guitar in my sweaty somewhat shaky hand.

Carson walked over to us, shaking first Beyonce's hand, then my own.

"Wow ladies, that was great. Tell me, how did you two hook up?" he asked, reading off the teleprompter.

Beyonce looked at me, indicating that I could answer the question. I hadn't really been told what to say, so I just said the first thing that came out of my mouth.

"I just signed with Antamount Records a few weeks ago and they said they wanted me to do a single with Beyonce. I didn't want to turn them down, so I guess that's how we got hooked up," I said nervously, trying not to look too directly into the camera.

"Great, great. Tell me Beyonce, what's it like working with someone from a rock background when all you've done before is r&b?" Carson asked as the camera panned to him and Beyonce.

"Well, you know Carson, I love all kinds of music. I even suggested putting in some real instruments in for my first single, and that's what led to Petty. She's a great musician and I'm sure she will be a big star and I just wanted to say I worked with her first, you know?" Beyonce said coolly as she hugged me by the shoulders. She was no stranger to the camera and her poise impressed me.

"I wish you two the best of luck. Beyonce's album is already out right now, so go by and pick it up if you haven't already. Petty, any plans on an album of your own?"

"Y..yes Carson, I just finished laying it down about a week ago and it should be out...uhh, I guess whenever they release it," I said, unable to contain myself from giggling. "It's going to be called 'Whirlwind', that much I know,"

"Ok, well, look for Petty's solo album...whenever they release it," Carson said, chuckling. "We'll be right back after this with some more videos and your requests, and Avril Lavinge in an hour or so,"

The light above the camera went off and two PA's rushed onto the set to pick up the mic stand and the stool I was sitting on as we were led off the stage. Out of the camera's sight, Beyonce turned to me as she ran her hands through her hair.

"You did great girl. I'd love to stay and talk about it with ya, but they are telling me I gotta go do some charity event tonight in Boston, so I gotta get going. Holla at me later if you want to, just ask Hapsboro for my number," she said, giving me a hug. I could feel the moisture between her breasts as she pressed her body against me. Though she was taller than me, at this moment I felt like a dwarf compared to her and her celebrity. She smiled down at me and our eyes locked for a moment, remembering that night together. With no one looking, she bent down and kissed me softly on the cheek.

"Cya round girl," Beyonce said, turning away to her waiting entourage by the door.

Taking a deep breath, I felt dizzy and sweaty and excited and calm and a million other things all at once as the adrenaline rush from performing slowly faded from me. I was in a daze as I walked over to one of the assistants.

"Do you have somewhere I could go to change and maybe shower? I feel sweaty from the performance," I asked breathlessly, scanning the room. The guy appeared really busy but he looked up at me regardless, glancing around.

"Yeah, there should be an open one down the hall over there. First door on your right," he said, pointing. I nodded at him and walked over to where he had indicated as I heard the audience applaud behind me, the show back on the air.

Passing through the door quietly, I saw the room he was pointing to. Not wanting to barge in on anyone, I knocked tentatively. No answer. Opening the door slowly, I saw that it was a very posh looking dressing room. One of those "green rooms" you hear about on all the entertainment shows...and here I was with one all to myself. Shutting the door behind me, I checked it out: there was a nice vase of flowers on a mahogany table against the far wall, a semi-open door that led to a bathroom with a shower, and a closet for hanging costumes and clothes to change into. There was also a nice looking sofa against the opposite wall from the table, with a big screen TV standing next to the table.

Walking around a little bit more, I headed into the bathroom and took some of the towels off, wiping my arms and neck from the sweat of the lights. The shower looked nice and clean and I was about to peel off my dress and climb in when there was a knock on the door. Fixing my hair, I walked out of the bathroom and stood in the center of the room.

"Come in," I called, the door opening a moment later.

In walked a Hispanic man with a dirty, thin mustache and slicked back hair. He wore a leather motorcycle jacket and a pair of faded jeans. His eyes seemed to register no emotion as he walked in, shutting the door behind him, a small package underneath his arm.

"Are you Petty?" he asked, his eyes checking me out hungrily. I suddenly felt conscious of the man, wondering who he was and what he was doing in my dressing room.

"Yes, who are you?" I asked.

"I am Fernando, Mr. Hapsboro's liaison here in New York. He has sent me to give you this package, as a gift for your good performance today on the show," he said, his words sounding almost scripted. He walked to the table as I watched him, setting the package down. It was a simple cardboard box, in the shape of a jewelry case, with a string fastened across the middle.

I approached him as he set it down on the table, undoing the string and opening the lid of the box. Inside was a rather full baggie of white powder. My heart raced as I realized what it was, having not seen cocaine since my experience that night with Eliza. I felt a surge rush through my veins as the pleasant memories of the drug's effects coursed through my brain, the echoes of Eliza's moans and my own arousal seeming to trigger involuntarily in my body. My skin felt flush and I realized that just seeing the tightly packed powder was enough to make me somewhat horny again.

He stepped back from the table and looked at me, his eyes watching me as I leaned closer over the box. It was apparent that he wanted me to take it out or look at it or thank him or something, but I wasn't sure exactly what to do at that moment.

"Please accept this as his thanks," he said, smiling weakly at me as his eyes continued to look me up and down. I tore my eyes away from his own, staring instead at the white bag. It was jammed full, undoubtedly a lot of drugs in the bag. The realization of where we were and who could come in at any moment suddenly flashed into my mind and I put my hands on the box and closed it's lid, looking up at him.

"You can't just open that here! What if someone walks in? Besides, I can't accept this. Tell Mr. Hapsboro that this is...not my kind of thing," I said, trying to keep my voice steady.

Fernando didn't move, his eyes now locking my own tightly in his gaze.

"I was told not to leave until you have sampled his gift, Ms. Petty,"

I stared at him intently.

"I told you, I can't accept this," I said, my voice wavering now.

"I have my orders Ms. Please do not make me tell Mr. Hapsboro that you refused his gift," he said, his voice cold.

I looked back at the box, my hand brushing across it's surface. I felt torn inside, unsure of what exactly to do next. It was clear that this guy wasn't going to leave until he got what he wanted, regardless of what I wanted. But I couldn't really do a line of the coke here...could I?

I continued to stare at the box as I noticed him shifting his weight out of the corner of my eyes, growing impatient with me.

Against my better judgment, I opened the lid of the box again and lifted the bag out, it's contents surprisingly heavy in my hand. I unzipped the top as a faint waft of powder floated out, settling slightly on my hand and somewhat on the table. Fernando took this as a sign that I was willing to go along with his request, for he took the bag from my hand and reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out a small teaspoon measuring tool, dipping it into the bag as he shook it's contents out onto the table. With deft hands, he used the handle of the spoon to cut out two lines of the drug. Wiping the spoon clean with his finger, he smeared the excess powder into his mouth, rubbing it across his gums and teeth.

He looked up at me again, then at the powder, then back at me, as if indicating that it was my turn. His cold black eyes stared at me fiercely, almost seeming to bend me to his will. I felt myself bend at the knees slightly, my face lowering down to the table. Part of my mind screamed to stop, to just walk out of the room. But the intense feelings from my first experience with the coke overpowered my logic, flooding my brain with the pleasant memories and amazing feelings that it had invoked.

As I lowered my head down to a few inches above one of the lines, Fernando lowered his own face to the other. I could smell his oily hair from where my face floated, the scent of sweat and some cheap grease flooding my nose. He made no sign of hesitating as he pinched one nostril and lowered the other to the table, inhaling the line in a few seconds. He again wiped up the excess powder on his finger and then sniffed it's slight contents up his nose, his body now standing up straight as he loomed over me.

Turning towards the table, my body seemed to be moving by itself now as I too lowered my face and sniffed up the line - not as quickly as he, but still in rather rapid succession - feeling the coarse powder go up my nose and down my throat as that same burning from the first time hit me again.

There was still some excess powder on the table as I lowered my face again to inhale the rest, the dizzying effects of the high. As I was hunched over the table, I heard Fernando moving behind me, the sound of his pants unbuckling coming not even a moment later.

Within a few seconds, before I even knew what was going on as the last of the powder disappeared up my nose, I could feel Fernando's hard prick pressing against the cloth at the back of my dress. His callused hands took hold of the base of my dress as he lifted it up onto my back, my ass now exposed in my simple blue panties. I turned to watch him for a moment, everything happening so fast that I barely had time to think, but Fernando proved faster.

With one hand, he put it on the back of my neck and held my head and body down against the lip of the table, pinning me there with his surprisingly strong forearms. The other was busy tearing at my panties as I felt his cock bump against one of my ass cheeks, my pussy now exposed as he held me bent over, spreading my legs wider with his foot.

Even in the state I was in, I knew that this was wrong and not a good thing. I was about to start to scream and call for help, to push back against him with all my might to get him off of me, but it was at that moment that his cock found home and pushed fiercely into my cunt in one quick motion. The force of his body colliding into my own shoved me further onto the table as I cried out in surprise, the length of his modest cock touching against my inner walls.

As he began to withdraw, I put my hands on the table and pushed away from him, the tip of his cock still in my snatch as I fought to get away. Sensing my move, he leaned against me again, the weight of his body and ample sized gut pressing against my rather weak and slow moving own frame as he plunged into me again. Adjusting to the weight of his body, I tried to wiggle free but it was to no avail, as he placed his arms on my hips and dug his fingers into me tightly, holding me there against the table, my breasts pressing hard into the wood through my dress.