Perchance to Dream- Book I

Chapter 6: Blood. Blood. Brains. More brains.

During our cab ride in, Tori would not stop bragging about their hotel. She was worse than Briana tonight. Never in my life had I imagined a person could shoot forth more hot air than Briana.

Blood. Blood. Brains. More brains. Dammit, it wasn't working.

The cab ride started out well enough. Billy explained why he didn't want me to pick him up at the train station. The record company wanted him to sign the contracts as soon as he got off the train. And they discussed tomorrow's itinerary, which would include a tour of the city and meetings with other tour managers, PR, and agents. He was so excited and had so many ideas for songs for his album already. He wanted it to be a concept album about youth. It was refreshing to be around that positive creative energy. There was so little of that at Drexden.

Then Tori swooped in and sucked all of the positivity right out of the cab. She went on and on about how the hotel was across the street from a real Wine & Spirits, how their hallways did not smell like piss, how they had a view of the Empire State Building, instead of a brick wall- which was when she looked into my eyes with so much pity, I could've been a starving toddler in Somalia. And I couldn't forget that there was an elevator, complete with Muzak and big enough to fit twenty people. No way she would let me forget that. I'd heard all this for the entire ride. When she said she loved how the streets on 53rd weren't littered with garbage and crack pipes, I wanted to grab her tongue, rip it out of her mouth, then slap her across the face with it. I couldn't do it even if I tried because Billy sat between us, agreeing with everything she said like a little wimp.

What irked me the most about her yammering was that she was not the snooty type. Back home, she was a jeans and t-shirts, chugging Heinekens at baseball games kind of girl. Her high-falutin attitude tonight was so uncharacteristic because she wanted me to look bad. And even though I tried not to let it get to me, it was working. She was right. My neighborhood was a dump.

"Woe is me" as Ophelia said in Hamlet. If she had to sit in this car with Tori, she probably would have jumped out. But I was not suicidal, dammit, and I could not let Tori drive me crazy. Billy was not going to see me be the bitch to her so that he would never speak to me again.

"So, guess who'll be the new Editor in Chief at Drexden next year?" I asked, rubbing the window with my thumb.

"Kat! That's great," Billy said, rubbing my right shoulder. I faced him with a shrug.

"Thanks. I need a bit of a favor from you, and it's related."

He raised his eyebrows, expectant.

"I need a translator tonight for a meeting. Can you-?"

"Sure!" Billy said.

"Who is it?" Tori asked simultaneously, leaning forward in her seat and propping her cheek on her hand.

"Thanks Billy." I brushed his shoulder like I used to whenever he gave me favors. I told Tori, "A Japanese Nobel Laureate. My editor's favorite author. If I get her this interview, I'll definitely be editor."

"What're you asking him? Use big words, please, so that I can brag to Cassie and dad." Billy laughed, that infectious laugh, and so I couldn't help but follow suit.

Tori laughed harder than both of us, right down to a knee slap, which led Billy to stop to twist his head over to her.

"Nice, Tori."

"What?" As dramatic as Norma Desmond. "It was funny. You'll do a great job, baby." She stroked his cheek. "Oh, and you too, Katie."

Brains. Blood. Blood. More. Blood.