Oreos for Breakfast: Chapter 28

Oreos For Breakfast: Chapter 33
By the Paperbag Princess and Pumpkin Coach

"I thought Paris was a shallow bitch, Nick?"

Ken didn't even let me say hello before he was on me. Great. I just rolled my eyes, "She's hot as hell. Doesn't mean she's not shallow. She's… fun."

I liked that word. I needed to start using it more often.

"Uh-huh. Is that what the kids are calling it these days?"

I shook my head, shouldering my bag and walking away from him towards the car. "I went home alone, if that's what you're implying."

"No fuckin' way!"

What the hell? Was my manager just ragging on me like Vinnie did? That was so messed up. What had happened to professionalism?

Wait. How did Ken know? As soon as I had the thought, Ken was shoving a copy of the New York Post in my hands. Just like I'd thought last night, there was a picture of me and Paris front and center. She was on my lap laughing and leaning down toward me.

I stopped walking to read the little article. Who the hell did the Post talk to… fuck!

"Tell me that you did not say that? Need someone my own age? What the hell is Rachel going to think?"

"Who cares? She's history, right? I mean, she's on the Firm roster and we love all our acts… but you two, you're over. That's what Saffron says."

"Saffron? How the hell does Saffron know? Did Rachel call her? I didn't even call you!"

Ken shook his head, "No. James. Wanted to give her a heads up, I guess. I don't know. They had to move around some press stuff. Saffie was not happy. They won two awards and Rachel fucked off to Florida with James."

I didn't let Ken finish. "Florida? Where?" What the hell! Florida was my home, not hers!

Wait… was she… did she think I'd go there and she went looking for me? No, that didn't make sense. She knew where I was. She didn't even try to call. Not that I'd called her, come to think of it.

Whatever. I wanted to see her and if I called she'd just hang up on me. She couldn't do that I was in front of her. I wanted to show her how much I loved her and… why was she in Florida? This was all so like that story… gift of the… whatever… where they give each other presents based on the things they gave away or something. Rachel would know.

Just thinking about her made my head start to hurt again. If she'd gone looking for me, I'd certainly fucked it up by going out with Paris last night. Why did I do that?

But I knew without thinking about it. Paris had been easy. Not that kind of easy… but just plain easy. She called at the right time and all I had to do was show up. She was there and it was fun. I didn't have to think about anything. Paris didn't make my head hurt. Far from it.

"C'mon, Nick. I have a surprise."

"If Paris freakin' Hilton is waiting in my car, I'm going to kill you, dude."

"Even I am not that good, Nick."

Well, this was the guy that offered to get me a hooker a few weeks ago. Masseuse. Whatever. Same thing. Maybe I needed a new manager.

Or maybe not. We walked out into the bright sunshine and there was a crowd of girls around my car, all screaming my name and taking my picture. What the hell?

I looked back at Ken and he just smiled. "Little 'welcome to freedom' present. Just think of all the fun you are going to have with this CD when it comes out. Touring is gonna be wicked."

Did he just say 'wicked'?

"Nicky! Flying solo once again. This promo tour is gonna be wicked!" Vinnie's voice hit me as soon at the car stopped in front of the hotel. I blinked at him as he held open the door for me.

What was it with my friends and that stupid word? I plastered a smile on my face, meeting Vin's lame high-five and dropping my bag at his feet. "Bring that, would you?"

Vinnie just stared at me.

"You are still my assistant, right?"

"Yeah… but…"

"So assist. Grab my bag. I'm tired."

Vinnie grabbed my bag, much to my surprise. I never really treated him like an employee, but he was on my payroll, right? Rachel was always trying to get me to treat him that way and I'd resisted. So why was I being a dick now?

Because I could be. I was angry at the world and right now the only person I could be an asshole to was Vinnie. Whatever. He'd get over it.

"I heard you didn't get much sleep last night. So is this Paris girl as hot as everyone says?"

I shrugged, "She's a nice girl, Vin. Dropped me off at my hotel and everything."

"Was she good?"

I looked back at him as he followed me into our room. His stuff was already scattered everywhere. Guess he was making himself at home while I was fucking miserable in New York. "Nothing happened. We went out and danced some. She's a nice girl. No Rachel…"

Vinnie cut me off, "Do not even say the witch's name! She's history, dude. Any chick that would dump you… YOU! Man, she's whacked."

Before I knew it, I'd slammed Vin against the wall. "Don't you fuckin' say another word or you are on the first plane to Florida, understand? Not one more word about Rachel!"

"But… Ken said…"

"I don't fuckin' care what Ken thinks, Vin. I don't even care what you think. I just want to be alone and get some fuckin' sleep, okay? Is that too much to ask?"

I pushed him against the wall one last time for good measure and I felt him start to come after me, but I slammed the bedroom door in his face. He'd get over it, but I might seriously hurt him if he continued going on about Rachel like that.

Six months. Six fucking months of this. How I was I going to do it? No way I was going to last. She was in Florida? Would James talk to me if I called him? What was she doing there?

I kicked off my shoes and fell on the bed, telling myself that I couldn't be a pussy and cry. Not with Vin outside. But I had to figure out a way to contact her. No contact for six months? She was joking about that. No way she'd be able to stand it. I didn't think. Unless the last year was a joke to her. Maybe she was always looking for a way out. After all, she didn't want to have my baby. What woman who really loves you doesn't want to have a baby? I thought that biological clock thing was hard wired.

Just thinking about her made my head start to throb. Getting up, I found my bottle of sleeping pills in my bag. Without thinking, I popped two in my mouth. If I could just sleep, then I could think straight again.

Sleeping didn't help. Before I knew it, Vinnie was knocking on the door and dragging me out for the video shoot. Last week I'd been so excited about making my first solo video. We'd tested the song on this on-line rating board and it'd done pretty good. Rachel didn't like the final cut, but I thought it sounded great. The fans seemed to like it.

But now I was just groggy and pissed off. I didn't want to stand around pretending that life was grand while some director caught this moment on film forever.

And I definitely didn't want to face Anna. Why'd I invite her to be in the band again?

"Who the fuck is Paris Hilton?"

Maybe if I kept walking, Anna would think I hadn't heard her. I had stuff to do. It was my fucking video we were filming, after all. I'd thought it was really cool to have Anna and the rest of the band in it, but now I was rethinking that. Fuck them. I was a solo artist now. I didn't need to showcase the fucking backing band.

"Nickolas Gene…"

"Damn, Anna, you had to use the full name?" Vinnie asked.

"Fuck you, Vinnie. Shouldn't you be arranging his schedule or something? Get lost."

"I'm supposed to be his personal assistant. Which means no one talks to him unless I say so. So you get lost."

"I'm actually performing a real function on this set, asswipe, rather than getting paid to hang out. Fuck off."

I let them fight it out, slamming the door to my trailer. I didn't want to talk to either of them.

Especially Anna. She would be all concerned and shit. Hell, she's the one that had convinced me it was a good idea to go to New York to see Rachel.

That was the last time I was taking Anna's advice. What the fuck did she know? I didn't see her dating anyone. Her last major relationship had been with Vinnie, and look at them now.

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