Oreos for Breakfast: Nick BSB Fiction

Oreos for Breakfast - Chapter 20

By
The Paperbag Princess & The Pumpkin Coach

Were we stopped? I squinted against the light and tried to sit up, but my head spun. Damn. Okay, drinking so much last night was not a bright idea. My mouth felt like it was full of cotton. I pulled the blanket around me tighter and heard someone moving around. What the fuck?

Oh right… Belle… Chelle? Fuck. What was her name? Not Belle, she wasn't a princess. I opened my eyes again and looked over toward the noise. She was mostly dressed and on the floor looking for something.

"Sneaking out?" I joked. She looked up at me, her eyes wide.

"Umm…" she stammered, not quite meeting my gaze.

What the hell? Was she really sneaking out on me? You're kidding me. "C'mere…" I motioned, moving over in the bed and making room for her. "Did I hog the covers or something? Promise I won't do it again…"

"No. Umm… Frank, he said you needed to sleep and I had to go," she said quietly, bending down again for something on the floor. She came back into my line of vision holding a shoe.

"Fuck him. He's not my boss. I'm not ready to be up yet… unless you are?" I leered, and she half-smiled at me.

"No. I should go. My friends were going to be here this morning and… I'm sure you have things to do."

Oh, she didn't want to stay? Why did that annoy me? Shouldn't she want to stay? Shouldn't I be the one kicking her out or at least wishing I'd find a way to get her to leave my room… bus… whatever? That's how it used to work, right?

She sat on the end of the bed to tie her shoes, and I sat up, ignoring the spinning in my head, and pulled her back into my arms. She squeaked as I nuzzled her neck playfully. "C'mon… you don't really wanna go, do you?"

"You never want girls to stay," she shot back, and I let her go.

What the hell did that mean? I never wanted… shit. I fell back on the pillows and covered my eyes with my arm. She was a groupie. Just some fan. She wasn't here because she liked me. She just wanted to be with a Backstreet Boy, didn't she? She didn't even know me. I didn't kick girls out, actually. I preferred to have someone in my bed at night, even if it was just a one-night stand.

That's all she was.

Yeah, she'd slept in my arms most of the night, but it wasn't love. It was just sex. She could go.

She came back over to the bed and ran her hand down my arm. "Thanks, Nick. It was a great ride."

I smiled at her, blowing her a kiss, and she left. I heard Vinnie heckling her as she walked out and thought about stopping him. That was no way to treat a lady, but then I heard her. "Call me if you're lonely later, Vin."

She didn't care who it was, did she?

I rolled over, pulling a pillow against me, and felt that familiar ache in my chest. Fuck.

Oh, my God, accountants were so boring. Why were we here, anyway? It was a Sunday; wasn't there something else we should be doing? Shouldn't all these guys be off doing Sunday things? Mulching the yard or antiquing or something. Not torturing tired rock stars with numbers and profit margins.

Fuck, I was tired. I hadn't slept until I'd finally gone to James' room, and we'd had to be up early to be here. And my butt hurt. I didn't want to think about that. Yeah, 'bite me, spank me, fuck me harder' felt like a good idea last night, but now I was wondering what the hell I'd been thinking. What was that guy's name? Fuck, I sounded like Nick.

Definitely not thinking about Nick. No. Bad idea. I looked back at the spreadsheet they'd handed me. Even with my business degree, it didn't make much sense. Too many columns and zeros and… zeros?

Did that really say 'paid in full'?

No, it can't. We were going to owe EMI money for the rest of our lives. I had come to terms with that almost the moment we signed on the dotted line. Howard must have made a mistake. That was the lead account guy's name, right? Howard. That was a good accountant name. Not a good pop star name, I mean, really… Howie D.? That was grabbing at straws on the indie cred scale.

Howie… I wondered if he'd call and check up on me. He was the sweet one, after all. AJ had called a couple of times. More than my fucking ex. He couldn't fucking call to apologize? Not that I was going to forgive him, but he could have tried. Asshole.

"Is there a bottom line?" Darien whined, and everyone laughed.

"Yes," Amber smirked at him. Fucking Amber. Why did she have to be here? Thank god Saffron was doing most of the talking. "Here."

She handed us each an envelope, and I slit it open, fighting back a yawn. What was my last royalty check? $500?

This was someone else's check. Ten grand?

"We have to split this, right?" James asked. Right. That was it. Our first advance had been $10,000, for all of us. And I'd made us put most of it in the bank account. Yeah, we were splitting it.

Amber giggled. "No, dear, that has just your name on it."

James leaned over to look at mine. "Did you get more than me?"

"You're so competitive, you queen," I snapped, but I had to look at his, too. Of course they were the same. We shared songwriting credits.

Ten grand? All for me? Really? I'd never gotten this much money all at once.

Dude! I could pay off my credit card bill!

Well… I could afford to pay more than the minimum for once! And maybe treat myself to something pretty, and pay with cash. And buy a cool present for Nick...he was always getting me things, and he deserved…

Right. He deserved my foot up his ass. I forgot.

I'd buy two cool somethings for myself and pay with cash! Fuck him!

"It's just going to be bigger next quarter," Howard informed us. "You started shifting your units over the last two months. This is just the first 2 quarters, and it's this past one where we started seeing more movement and, of course, the tour started." I could tell he was trying not to laugh. It was like we'd never gotten paid before. All four of us just stared at our checks in amazement, not listening. Did he say something about another check? We got more?

Dude, this was ten grand after taxes! I hadn't noticed that before. $10,114.87. That $114.87 was so gravy. We needed to go shopping. I needed a new guitar case, I couldn't open the one Nick had gotten me. I was keeping the guitar, but I needed a new case. I could get a cool new guitar case for a hundred bucks, couldn't I?

"Bigger?" Jeremy had to question. That was so Jeremy. The glass was always half empty to him.

"You don't owe EMI anything at the moment, and I imagine sales will only increase once you release the next video."

We're really paid off? How did that happen?

"We might see platinum next month," Amber giggled, and we all looked at her. "Oh, I didn't tell you yet! You're gold."

We're WHAT?

That was simply not possible. That was… fuck, I didn't even know how many albums that was. A lot. More than I ever dreamed we'd sell. Ever. All our albums put together, not just this one. How many did that last CD sell - 25,000? And we'd thought we were hot shit then!

Okay, this was the most speechless I'd ever seen us.

"If we've shipped half a million albums, we should be getting more than this!" Jeremy had to protest, and I was too boggled by the first part of his sentence to think about the last.

HALF A FUCKING MILLION?

Didn't Backstreet have like a zillion platinum albums? Good fucking god. Oh, Nick was going to love this… My fingers just itched to pick up my phone and tell him. I could just hear his giggle. He was always so amused by me when I got excited over things that were old hat to him.

Fuck. I had to stop thinking about him.

And don't think about your dad, either, Rachel. Would I get a plaque? Dad would so have loved that. He'd have hung it in the living room, next to all my brothers' football trophies, and the girls' soccer things, and the awards the wines had won, and…

We'd sold how many records?

"Don't worry, Jeremy. The next check will be bigger." Saffron stepped in smoothlylooking down at her watch and then smiling over at Amber. "Unless you have anything else, we really need to get to our next meeting."

I swear Amber pouted at her. "Just one other thing, then you can go," she finally said, regaining her composure. "Happy early birthday, Rachel."

She grinned as she handed me a gift bag. I hadn't even noticed it. I smirked at the boys as I took it from her. "I got a present," I teased, reaching in to see what it was.

"Oh, the boys will get presents, too. That's tradition when an artist hits gold. And, of course, we'll throw a party at the end of the week, after your show here."

I was glad I was looking into my bag, or I would have made a face at James. The last show of the American leg was in LA in a few days, and we'd already planned our afterparty, at our favorite dive karaoke bar. Now it was going to be a big media circus, I could just tell.

And I could wear my new gold bracelet, because it might be the only time I ever would. I didn't wear gold, as a rule. White gold, silver, that was more my style. But this was yellow gold and… are those diamonds?

"Pretty…" James crooned, and I knew he was being sarcastic. But Amber didn't.

"I picked it out myself," she informed us. "I knew it had to be gold when I found out about the certification."

"Thank you, Amber," I told her sincerely. "This was very thoughtful."

Well, it was. It wasn't me, but it was still nice. The record company had certainly never remembered my birthday before. After a few minutes of chatting and business, Saffron was ushering us out the door and heading for a limo for our next meeting.

"Look at this!" Darien cried, holding his check aloft. "It's got a comma!"

Saffron grabbed his shirt and pulled him into the car. "You guys need to learn the impassive thing. Haven't you ever played poker?"

"What?" James whined, settling into his favorite seat next to the fridge. "Is there champagne in here?"

"You're hopeless!" Saffron complained. "Ten thousand dollars is nothing!"

"Each!" Darien reminded her. "We each got that! I am so getting a new cast iron skillet."

That made Saffron forget to be annoyed with us, and she laughed. "Hopeless," she choked out between giggles.

"C'mon, that's why we love them," Lola said. "No rock star pretension."

"Rachel got a poolside massage at 2 in the morning the other night," Jeremy teased. "That's pretty pretentious to me."

"Hey!" I protested. "It wasn't even my idea! The desk clerk just offered."

"Well, everyone get massages tomorrow, because EMI is paying for everything at the Peninsula this week," Saffron informed us, and we all stared at her. What did we get next? This was not my beautiful life! "Hopeless!" she cried again. "EMI is fucking screwing you. You're fucking gold and you've got 40 grand to show for it! Hell, that barely pays my expenses."

Darien glowered at her, clasping his check protectively against his chest. "I hate management," he muttered. "I told you all we didn't need management!"

Saffron rolled her eyes. "Fine. Fire me. We won't go to Roscoe's and talk about the real money…"

"Real money?" Jeremy asked.

"Roscoe's?" I echoed. We'd been in LA for like 48 hours, and there had been no Roscoe's. There was supposed to be a meeting there yesterday, but something got fucked up and the boys swore to me that we'd go on my birthday tomorrow. Fried chicken for breakfast, now that was the way to start a birthday.

Saffron smiled at me. "So a girl after my own heart. And yes, Jeremy, real money. You've sold half a million albums; the mechanical royalties alone say you're owed 10 times over what you've got in your hands there."

What? Four hundred fucking thousand dollars? That was nearly half a million. That can't be! I was bad with zeros. I reached in my backpack for my Palm Pilot. I couldn't do math in my head. Lola caught my hand. "Listen, Rachel. You can talk to Nick later."

What? I wasn't going to fucking call him! I scowled at Lola and grabbed my Palm, whipping out the stylus to check Saffron's numbers.

"What's the mechanical royalty rate?" Jeremy beat me to the punch.

"Eight cents a unit."

I tapped it into the calculator. Shit, she was right!

"But mechanical is the small one, right?" I questioned. I always got all the royalties confused. There were performance royalties and record and then the publishing… was that what Jeremy just called 'mechanical'? Probably, and he'd used that just to show us up. Yeah, he was smirking over at me. Hey! I was the one with the fucking business degree!

Saffron smiled at me. Amber would have rolled her eyes, I just knew it. It was really cool having Saffron on our side. "Yeah. That you split with publishing, and EMI, of course, is taking a chunk of that… for now."

"For now?" Oh, Darien was listening? Darien and James never talked in business meetings. James grabbed my Palm Pilot, and I scowled at him.

"The record rate is like 11 percent, right? Or did Amber change that when we weren't looking, too?"

How the fuck did James know that?

"Yeah. 11 percent, and no, that hasn't changed. But it's negotiable. Will be, at any rate."

"Fuck me!" James exclaimed, and I grabbed the Palm back from him and screamed when I saw the number.

"They owe us a million fucking dollars!?!? James, you did the math wrong, you idiot."

Saffron shook her head. "No, he didn't. You've gone gold, you have an album that's still selling, and you have a single that's still in the top 25 while your second one is about to be released… by December, they'll be giving you twice that."

"Twice?" Jeremy questioned.

"Twice. And we're renegotiating with EMI, remember. We've got a million offers for 'Come On' for commercials and…"

"No commercials," Jeremy had to assert.

"We'll talk about it over waffles," Saffron relented. "I think we all need some food."

"Nick. The Nickster. Nicky!"

I fell back on the couch, tying to ignore the knocking on my door. I didn't want to deal with Vinnie just yet. I wasn't awake enough. But I knew if I didn't entertain him, he'd just continue to bug the shit out of me.

Why'd I invite him again?

I shuffled over to the door and opened it, "Why aren't you sleeping, dude?"

He smiled, raising an eyebrow at me and holding up a little bag of white powder. I grabbed him and pulled him into my room. "Do you fuckin' want Kev to kick my sorry ass? Dude!"

"What? You're a big boy, Nicky. You can make your own decisions. C'mon, it's been a while. You told me that on the phone the other day…"

Yeah, it had been a while. A long while. And then there was AJ. I considered Vinnie and took the little bag from him. This would keep me up… in more ways than one. We could save it for after the show. I just had to keep it away from AJ. But… after the show, we could find some ladies who liked to party… That might be fun. Just this once. I pocketed the bag and smiled at him, "Thanks, Vin. But can't now. Only a few hours to soundcheck. Let's save it for later."

He shrugged. "You're the rock star, dude. So what now? Sleep until the big grumpy giant comes and gets you?"

"Hell no. Let's go to the mall or something. If we sit around here, I'm just gonna start drinking the mini bar." I grabbed my wallet and phone, heading for the door.

"What's wrong with that? The mini bar is our friend, Nick! Hey, don't we need a minder?"

I rolled my eyes at him. The mall was like 2 feet from the hotel; we didn't need Frank or any of the other guys. I could handle a few girls if we got recognized.

"Nah, let's just go. I get recognized more with the Jolly Green Giant," I laughed.

Okay, the mall might have been a bad idea. I didn't get recognized, but everywhere I looked, I found things I wanted to buy… for Rachel. Tomorrow was her birthday, and I should be in LA with her tonight after the show, not here with Vinnie contemplating getting bombed out of my mind for no good reason.

Vinnie grabbed my arm, pulling me into a record store. "You are so fuckin' whipped, man! Need to get you some music with balls!"

"Fuck you, Vin!" I laughed, trying not to let him get to me. That was the thing with Vinnie, you had to let him think nothing bothered you. Once you showed a weakness, it was all over. Like having a brother, really. Just like me and Aaron. I hadn't talked to him for a while… he'd be perfectly happy to know that Rachel was history.

"I'm not fuckin' whipped, dude. I'm a free man."

"Free, my ass! It's all 'Rachel this' and 'Rachel that'."

"What? You're imagining things."

"Right… Nick, whatcha holding?"

I looked down at my hands and realized I'd picked up their CD without even thinking of it. It was an automatic reaction whenever I went into a music store… I bought at least one copy of whatever Sudden Silence CDs they had.

Okay, maybe Vinnie had a point.

"Fuck you, dawg!" I held up the CD. "She's hot… admit it."

"And has you wrapped around her twisted little finger, dude! Damn… where's the Nicky I know? The rock star? That ladies' man?"

I rolled my eyes. "Dude, you were the one that was getting lucky because of me last night… watch it."

"Whatever. I could have gotten those girls myself. Yours gave me her number when she left, you know."

"Sloppy seconds, Vin?"

But he pretended he didn't hear me. Just as well; I probably didn't want to fight with Vinnie. He was here for a few more days, after all. I sauntered down the aisle away from him. He could have the girl from last night. She didn't care about me… she was just looking for a good time.

And what were you looking for, Nick? Right… I was no better.

But I had been. I hadn't imagined that, I? I found myself in front of the magazines and looked up into Rachel's eyes. Man, that was creepy. I grabbed the magazine off the shelf and flipped through it. Full page article on her - what she was wearing, how all the girls wanted to be just like her and all the boys wanted to date her. I scanned it quickly:

And what does Rachel Connor have to have with her on every tour?

Well, it's a new one. A stuffed bear that someone special gave me. I sleep with it and… dunno, it just makes me feel loved when I hug it at night.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

I slammed the magazine back down on the rack and found Vinnie, "C'mon, Vin. We have to get back before I turn into a pumpkin."

"Just a sec..." He brushed me off, continuing to talk to the girl behind the counter. She looked over at me and smiled as she recognized me. I grabbed a pen on the counter and scribbled my name on a piece of paper, handing it to her.

"C'mon, Vin. I'm going."

Fuck him...he could get back to the hotel by himself. What did I care? I walked on, trying to breathe around the lump in my throat. That was my stuffed bear she was talking about. I bet it didn't make her feel loved now, did it? I stuffed my hands in my pockets as Vinnie caught up with me.

"Fuck! Where's the fire, dawg?"

I turned the corner and ducked into the men's room, pulling out the little envelope Vinnie had given me earlier. A quick hit wouldn't kill me. Wouldn't kill my voice.

And maybe it'd make Rachel get out of my fucking head!

"Mmmmm… waffles…" I murmured as we settled in a booth and looked down at the menus.

"I'm getting everything on the menu! We can afford it now!" Darien exclaimed and we all groaned. Darien was a fucking broken record. The whole ride over, it'd been the same thing… "See that Lexus, I'm gonna buy one, 'cause I can afford it." "See that building…"

"But then you'd be so fat, you couldn't reach the drums, dude," Jeremy chastised, making us all laugh.

"Fuck you, J! Always ruining our fun."

Hey! That was my line! I laughed, looking down at my menu again… now which one was the lemonade with fruit punch? The sunrise or the sunset? Something like that. As I contemplated, I felt Saffron's hand on my arm. The boys were still insulting one another.

"Rachel, I just wanted to say I'm sorry. I heard about Nick…"

My head snapped up. She what? Bastard!

It was like she'd read my mind. She lowered her voice. "No, James didn't tell me."

"Then how…"

She just gave me that look. Of course she knew; it was probably all over The Firm by now. Two of their biggest clients broke up; that'd be good for some office cooler gossip.

"Connie's with them this week. You know, the whole Kevin situation? Anyway, she called to give me a heads up. You know, so I could do damage control, if needed."

"Don't worry, I'm not going to hunt him down and cut his dick off…"

"What?" Darien cried from across the table, throwing his hands over his crotch and making us all laugh. Great. Now they were all going to know.

"Not you, dear. Nick."

"Why are you… Don't you need that, Rache?" I rolled my eyes at Darien, and he gasped. "You broke up? That shit!" He looked around the table skeptically. "Was I the last to know? I'm always last…"

I tried to sound relaxed, but I could feel my muscles tensing as I looked around at them. Lola wasn't even hiding her shock, her mouth open and her menu long forgotten. "No, only James knew. Well, and Saffron because apparently an APB went out at The Firm."

"It wasn't like that, Rachel. I meant media control. When the papers find out, they'll be calling and wanting the scoop."

"What's the scoop?" Jeremy asked, his voice low.

I shrugged, "Got tired of him." Okay, they weren't buying that. My boys knew me better than that. Jeremy just stared at me. "Okay… he fucking cheated on me. You knew he would." I leaned back, "Go on… say it…"

"Say what?"

"That you fucking told me this would happen! That I deserved it… go on!" I tried hard not to let my voice shake, but I felt James' hand on my arm and I lost it, feeling a tear slide down my cheek. Fuck! I wasn't gonna let either of them get to me. I grabbed my napkin and wiped my eyes. "Sorry… just… give me a sec?"

I scrambled out of the booth and could hear James as I walked away. "Way to go, dickhead…"

Shit! Shit! Shit! I slammed the door behind me and sat on the toilet, trying to steady my breathing. I didn't want to have to tell them. Saffron and her concern! I didn't want to go back out there and deal with Jeremy. I fucking hated it when he was right about small things, but big things… man, he was gonna be insufferable now.

There was a knock on the door, and I got up and splashed water on my face, "Just a sec…"

"Rache, it's Jeremy."

I looked at myself in the mirror. My face was blotchy, and I'd forgotten the waterproof mascara today. Grand. This would ensure that there were fans around, wouldn't it?

I opened the door slightly. "I'll be back in a sec."

But he didn't let me shut the door, stepping inside and then shutting it behind him. "Rachel, I'm sorry I pissed you off… but I didn't say anything."

His words stopped me. He hadn't, had he? But he would have!

"I'm sorry. Really. Sorry that he was an ass. I didn't wish it. You have to know that, right?" I avoided his eye and he reached out, running a finger under my chin so I'd look up at him, "Right?"

"Could have fooled me. You hated him, J. Hated me with him…"

"I didn't, though," he said sincerely. "Not really. I felt obligated to pick on him, in my role as the evil ex, but I liked him."

I rolled my eyes, turning back to the mirror and grabbing a paper towel to wipe away some of my running makeup. "Bullshit. You two were always at one another's throats."

Jeremy sighed, leaning against the wall next to the mirror. "You're twisting my words again, Rache. What does my opinion matter? I wasn't fucking him! But-"

Okay, that image made me giggle and him shudder, and I had to interrupt before he could finish his thought. "People would pay good money for that, though."

"Yeah, but we don't need other people's money, do we, babe? EMI's gonna owe us over a million fucking dollars."

A million dollars. Right. There's perspective for you. "How many Nicks can I buy with that, you think?"

Jeremy laughed. "That's the spirit. Buy another boy toy and move on, babe!"

I threw away my paper towel and started towards the door. "I'm sure Darien will price them out for me."

"Rachel!" Jeremy commanded, and I stopped, my hand on the door. Damnit, he was going to make me have this conversation whether I wanted to or not. "I still haven't finished my thought. Regardless of what I thought of Nick, I never wanted him to hurt you."

Shit. That was a sweet thought. He came over to me, taking my hand off the doorknob and lacing our fingers together. "I hurt you enough, didn't I? I'm sorry he turned out to be like me at all. You deserve much better."

Damnit, he was making me cry again. I looked up at him, blinking back tears. "You weren't all bad, you know."

He smiled. "Tell that to James, would you?"

Nodding, I kissed his cheek. "Thank you. But please stop being nice now, it's very weird."

He grinned, opening the door for us. "Are you kidding? I am so milking this good boyfriend thing for all it's worth. At least my shittiness is all in the past now."

I raised an eyebrow at him. "But there was much more shittiness with you, darling. You just made sure I don't put up with as much."

When we got back to the table, Darien had a whole list of things to buy jotted down on his napkin.

"Dude, you are taking all the fun out of shopping!"

"Nah, gotta have a plan, Rache. Saffron says that Lola should up our per diems and I can shop at Fresh Fields now, but I think I'll stick to Trader Joe's. I'm gonna be the cost-conscious rock star millionaire!"

"Hey, you aren't a millionaire yet," James interjected. "We're owed a million total; that's only a quarter of a million to you."

"Damn!" Darien pouted. "Okay, Rache, you have to kick Jeremy out again so we can get more money!"

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