Oreos for Breakfast: Chapter 37

Oreos For Breakfast: Chapter 37
By the Paperbag Princess and Pumpkin Coach

“Good morning, birthday boy,” a sweet voice said, and I smiled, opening my eyes. Paris was standing above the bed, holding a tray full of food.

“What’s that, baby?” I asked, sitting up and rubbing my face.

She put the tray on my lap, looking very proud of herself. “Eggs and bacon and French toast and blueberry pancakes. And Cookie Crisp cereal, because you love that. You should have everything you love on your birthday. Including me, of course,” she finished, sitting down and kissing me.

“That’s a lot of food,” I said, looking at it. And a lot of information.

“I wanted to make you everything you like. Well, I don’t think I’ve seen you eat blueberry pancakes, but I make them really good. You’ll like them.”

“I don’t really like blueberries, sweetheart.” That was a lie. But blueberry pancakes were Rachel’s thing. Not as much as waffles, but when we first got together, and her family came over for breakfast, she’d cooked pancakes and made a heart with the blueberries in mine. That was one of the first times I’d thought that maybe Rachel and I were more than just a fling.

And I really wasn’t going to think about Rachel today, because then I’d remember my last birthday and that was just a bad idea.

Paris pouted at me. “You should try them.”

“Of course I will. Everything looks great. You know I love your French toast.” I smiled, kissing her quickly before she popped a bite of blueberry pancakes in my mouth.

Paris Hilton was a surprisingly good cook. She only had a few things that she made, and we ate out all the time, but everything she’d ever cooked for me was really good. Including these pancakes. Damn!

The compliment made her smile, and she kissed me. “Do you like your birthday breakfast in bed?”

“It’s amazing,” I said, taking a bite of the French toast and noticing for the first time that her hair extensions were gone. Did she get up super early to go to the hairstylist, too? She was dressed in a cute nightie that I’d never seen before. Bright blue so it matched her contacts and made her eyes sparkle. I touched the silk with my finger. “I like this in my bed.”

She leaned over and kissed me fully, her mouth opening to mine and I tasted the blueberries on her tongue. “This is going to be your best birthday ever, I promise,” she whispered as we moved apart.

Was she going to blow my mind with sexual things I’d never even considered before? I doubted it.

This was not going to be my best birthday ever.

Damn Rachel for ruining all my birthdays from now on. I was only twenty-three. I had a lot more birthdays to get through.

“Is it, baby? What do you have planned?”

“You need a better nickname for me.”

This was typical Paris. Give me breakfast in bed, and then tell me what I was doing wrong. She always did it by pouting and looking cute and sweet, too.

“What should your nickname be?”

Not that she had a nickname for me. But whatever. I wasn’t really into nicknames.

“Bunny?” she suggested. “You said I was your snow bunny when we were up in the mountains. The first time we made love, remember?” She ran her hand up my leg, smiling.

I swear she knew. She knew everything about everyone. She was the one that had told me that Justin and Rachel had a couple of secret hook-ups. I swear she knew that Rachel used to call me ‘bunny’. It wasn’t like Rachel only did it when we were alone. Paris probably knew somebody who knew somebody who knew someone who knew Kevin or something and had found out that Rachel used to call me ‘bunny’.

“And you have that notebook with bunnies on it that you’re always writing songs in,” she said, her eyes wide and innocent.

I wouldn’t be surprised if she’d read my letters to Rachel, either.

“That was a present from Anna,” I said.

“Who’s Anna?”

“In my band,” I told her, for probably the millionth time. Paris had a block against Anna.

“Right. The chubby one. Well, I don’t want to be like her.”

“How about ‘princess’?” I asked, to get off the subject of Anna. Because I wasn’t allowed to say that Anna wasn’t fat. After the tenth time that Paris had insisted that anything above a size two was fat, I’d given up on that one. Sometimes it was easier to just let Paris talk.

Paris smiled at that. “I like that. I’m your princess.”

“And you’re treating me like a king, bringing me breakfast in bed.” She kissed me for that, and then fed me a bite of scrambled eggs. Even the eggs were good. What did she put in here? Cream? Caviar. And maybe cream, too.

It was nice, being with a girl who could just throw some caviar into the eggs, because it was probably left over from when she’d had friends over the other night.

“What else do you have planned for me today?” I asked, reaching for the fork. She moved it away from me, though. Apparently being the birthday boy meant I didn’t have to feed myself. I leaned back on the pillows and let her continue.

“Well…” she said, drawing out the word, and feeding me more pancakes. They were pretty good. “First you’re going to be late to rehearsal.”

I smiled at the look in her eyes. They’d live without me for an hour or so while I had sex with my girlfriend.

“Then I might stop by with a surprise. “

“Yeah?” I asked. “What kind of surprise?”

“If I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise, would it?” Her voice rose an octave as she teased me.

“Will I like it?”

“You’ll love it. And tonight we’re going out for sushi at Mr. Chow, your favorite, with all of our friends.”

Her friends, more like it. “Can I invite the band?”

“I already did,” she said with a smile. “They’re coming. And some surprise guests.”

“Cool. Who?” Please not my family. She loved her family, so she never really understood how I was fine not seeing mine.

They were all going to call today, weren’t they? I had managed to avoid Mom and Dad both for the last couple of weeks. They’d wish me ‘happy birthday’ and then start complaining about each other, and… Paris was still talking.

“It’s a surprise, silly!” she said, giggling. “Come on, finish breakfast. Then you can open presents.”

“Happy birthday!” Paris called out, presenting me with a cake. Not just any cake. No, this cake had her picture in the middle. It was weird seeing my girlfriend’s face drawn in sugar, since I never saw her eat much sugar, ever. Anna made some comment under her breath and I moved forward, trying to ignore her. I didn’t need to fight with her about Paris or with Paris about Anna… not today.

I couldn’t give Anna a piece with Paris on it. She could have a piece from the other side, where it said ‘Happy Birthday, Nick!” in blue letters. Anna liked icing. She’d rather have a piece from that side. Otherwise she’d take great glee in eating Paris’ head or something.

Had she brought a camera crew to surprise me for my birthday? I mean, she liked videotaping sex. We all knew that. But this was a little over the top, even for her.

“Tinkerbell came to wish you a happy birthday, too!” She laughed as the damn dog licked my face.

She scooped up her dog, smiling as the photographer took her picture. “Come here, Nicky, let’s pose with the cake.”

I didn’t really get why we were having our picture taken – or why that guy over there was videotaping us - but I smiled for the camera anyway. She’d trained me pretty well over the last couple of weeks. I think my picture had been taken more in the last month than in my whole life.

Okay, that wasn’t true. But… still. More on a per day basis, maybe. A couple of fans taking snapshots outside the hotel were nothing compared to the paparazzi in Los Angeles. And I think my girlfriend kept most of them in business.

There were a lot of pictures as Paris cut the cake and handed everyone a piece, and then led them in singing ‘Happy Birthday.’ Finally the paparazzi left, and I walked Paris out to her car.

“Of course,” I told her, but she pouted up at me, holding Tinkerbell to her chest.

“Nothing, princess, really. Just… why did you have to bring the photographers?”

“I thought it would be nice! You know how they follow me around all the time. I thought it would be nice if they saw how much I love you, and how I surprised you on your birthday. That will be a nice story on the shows tonight. I bet we’ll even be in the magazines this week.”

It was always about getting in the press. Every week, she had some plan to get into the gossip magazines.

But she was right. This was nice. Better than dancing on tables. Just a story about how happy we were. “Cute couple: Paris Hilton and her Backstreet boyfriend.”

“It is nice, princess,” I said, kissing her. “It has been a great birthday.”

“Howie!” I said, seeing him at the bar with Anna. Was Howie Anna’s date? Or was he my birthday surprise?

He smiled, coming over to hug me. “What are you doing here?” I asked him, and he stepped back, smiling at Paris.

“You, too, Howie,” she said, giving him a kiss on each cheek. “So glad to meet someone from his real band.”

Anna glared at her behind Howie’s head, and I moved to hug Anna. “Thank you for coming,” I whispered. She had told me when we left rehearsal that she wasn’t coming.

“Kevin’s in New York,” Howie said. Right. Kevin was in New York, on Broadway. That was so weird. I had to see if I could find a time to see him. “And Brian’s in Atlanta with the baby.”

Had to see the baby, too. I’d seen them in December sometime, but that was forever ago in baby time. Every once in a while I got an email with pictures and could see how quickly he was growing up.

Right. The wedding was off. He’d called me about that, and I’d never called him back. I sucked.

He stepped away, shrugging. “Whatever. At least Paris called to invite me to this fancy soiree. Not that I know how she got my number,” he said, smiling at her, and she smiled back.

“I have my ways. I’m so glad you could come. Everyone else is already in the back,” she said, taking my hand and leading me towards the long table in the back, filled with her friends.

She must have told them to be here an hour ago, because her friends were never on time.

“Please save me from the vapid ones,” I heard Anna say to AJ and Howie, and when I glanced back, they both had an arm around her. The guys had always liked Anna.

Paris didn’t, but I’d keep them away from each other. Paris sat next to me, and Howie on my other side, then Anna and AJ next to him. The rest of my band sat across from them, and the other side of the table was all Paris’ friends. They did not bring presents.

Which was fine, because Paris had gotten me a crazy amount of stuff. Clothes and toys and all sorts of things. Anna had gotten me some cool t-shirts to wear on tour, which I liked better than anything Paris had gotten me, but I wasn’t going to tell either of them that.

Paris’ friends had all the good drugs, though. Did she not know that AJ had been in rehab? I kept glancing over at him, but he seemed fine, talking with Anna and the band and Howie. I couldn’t really hear them, and Paris kept pulling me into conversations about what we were going to do next.

That was what they always talked about. What was next. I sorta wanted to just enjoy my sushi. This place was one of the hippest restaurants in town, but they did have really good food.

About halfway through dinner, Paris turned to me with a smile. “Come with me to the bathroom.”

Which meant to do some coke, not have sex, which had sorta disappointed me the first time we did it. But then the coke was good, so whatever.

“Especially tonight,” she protested. “It’s your birthday! Don’t you want to have a really good time?”

“No,” I said. “He was in rehab last year. He doesn’t do that anymore.”

Paris laughed. “Nicole’s done rehab a couple of times. And she’s the one that got the blow.”

“Well, AJ’s not like that,” I told her seriously. Rehab had meant something to AJ. Okay, he’d screwed up a couple of weeks ago, but he wasn’t going to do that again.

Was he? I hadn’t talked to him in a while. No… he seemed like the rehab AJ tonight.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Paris asked, starting to look pissed off.

I really did not want to fight with her on my birthday. I hated fighting with her. It always got loud and ugly and stupid.

I realized I wasn’t drunk enough to fight with her. I’d just had a couple of drinks, because I felt weird drinking in front of AJ, even if everyone else at the table was doing it. Even Howie.

I kissed her instead. “Later, princess. You go. I’m going to go and talk to my friends for a minute. I know they won’t come out with us later.”

She smiled, placated. “I’ll be ready for some more by the time we leave. We can do it in the car.”

“Sounds great.” It did. I had figured out a couple of weeks ago that her friends were a lot more fun if I was high.

She kissed me, and then got up from the table, grabbing Nicole. “I need to go to the bathroom.”

“Me, too,” Nicole said with a giggle, looking back at me. I just smiled at her.

Nicole didn’t like me much. I think she didn’t like that Paris spent more time with me than her lately.

I got up from my chair and went to sit at the end of the table, next to AJ and Anna. “Hey!” AJ said, as I pulled up a chair. “The birthday boy has decided to join us.”

“You’d know if you ever returned my calls,” AJ said, and I wrinkled my nose at him.

“AJ, I’m in his band and I never see him either,” Anna said, and I looked over at her.

“How’s the rehearsals going, Nick?” Howie asked, leaning around Anna. I smiled at him for saving me. I didn’t want to fight with Anna, either.

She was just jealous because I was with Paris. I knew she felt like if I was going to be with someone, it should be her, after she’d told me that she loved me and everything. But Anna was way too complicated. It was easy to be with Paris. That’s why I liked her.

“You need to send me your schedule. I really want to come to a show,” he said.

“You should try to get out to New York to see Kevin in ‘Chicago,’” AJ said. “He’s great.”

“I’m sure he is. When is his run over?” I asked. I was pretty booked until the tour was over, and by then I’d know what was happening with Rachel. Right, not thinking about Rachel tonight.

“He stayed with Rachel,” Anna offered, and I looked back at him. Was Anna trying to piss me off on purpose? What the hell was AJ doing staying with Rachel?

Was Rachel a secret? Why would Rachel be a secret? AJ could talk to Rachel. It was just me who wasn’t allowed to talk to Rachel.

“Nothing. I talked to Kevin right after the whole Sarah thing and Rachel was there. She invited me to come out there for a couple of days. It was exactly what I needed. I needed to get away for a while.”

“What, did you stay with her and James? It’s fucking cold in his apartment, man,” I tried to joke. I’d liked staying in James’ apartment last winter while I was working on the album. It made me feel like a real New Yorker. More like Rachel.

He hadn’t gone to Long Island, had he? I might have to kill him then. That place was special.

“No, she’s got her own place now. Amazing apartment, penthouse, right on Central Park. JC Chasez is her neighbor.”

Right. I’d forgotten about that. JC had told Anna about the new place when we’d hung out with him last month. When he was depressed because he’d just broken up with James. I glanced around the table, not sure who was listening. “Was JC there?”

“Yeah,” AJ said, like it was obvious. “We hung out with him and James a lot.”

I glanced over at Anna and she nodded. She must have the JC and James story. I could get that tomorrow.

“So how’s Rachel?” I asked, just as I noticed Paris and Nicole coming back from the bathroom, laughing at something.

AJ caught my look and shook his head. “Let’s have lunch this week. You can tell me how sad you are that I’ve cancelled my wedding.”

“I thought it was postponed,” I said, kicking myself for getting caught up in Rachel stuff and not talking about AJ.

“Hold your breath on that one, Aje,” Anna said, and I shot her a look. I was getting sick of her.

“How’s tomorrow?” I countered, and then saw Paris waving me back to my seat. I might still be in bed lunchtime tomorrow. “The day after,” I tried, and Anna rolled her eyes.

“I will,” I promised, getting up and heading back to my chair. “Really.”

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