ALEX
Taylor's office always freaked me out.
It was asylum white, with a glass wall overlooking the city from her 50th floor throne. Tiny metal sculptures of animals lined every black shelf around the room. She also had several hanging plants, and a black couch. The reason it freaked me out was because it was an exact replica of a picture I had seen in an IKEA magazine.
She did have a giraffe metal figurine on her desk though, which was nice. Sometimes when she talked to us about the technical side to fame, I would pick it up off her desk and roll it around in my hands by its neck. Jason would glare at me, which usually meant 'stop acting like a child and listen.'
Today I was more bored than usual, we were discussing flight reservations for leaving New York, which was happening in two whole weeks. I didn't understand why we had to be here, until the very end, when Taylor turned to me. I shifted in my seat under her gaze.
"So, Morrison, what do you think about New York? Doesn't it just get better every year?" She asked stupidly. My eyes widened at her tone, and I slowly set the giraffe back down on her desk.
"Personally, my favorite part of the city is this office," I smiled back, but my sarcasm didn't help the situation. She bent her head gently and placed her hands folded on her desk.
Taylor was done playing games. Her glare was sharp and intense, and her tone was flat. "Your face is plastered across every tabloid you can buy anywhere."
I swallowed and swiveled my head around to the boys, who were no help. Then I glanced back to her sheepishly, "Uh, I'm sorry?"
"Come on Alex. You're better than this," she sighed heavily, then picked up a magazine and set it down in front of me, I glanced over the cover, and bit my bottom lip. Three pictures of Lauren and I together littered the page, along with the words 'A Secret Budding Romance?' My eyes scanned the bottom for the name of a photographer, but came up empty handed.
I pushed the magazine away, and it made a soft swishing sound as it slid across the desk. Taylor rubbed her forehead and sat back in her chair, getting to the point, a little less tense now. She started her celebrity speech, the one we all knew by memory.
"Morrison, I wish I could say otherwise, I really wish I could, but you are a celebrity. And as unfortunate and lucky as you are, you are not a normal average human being. Now I'm not saying you can't go do normal, average things, but you can't go do them alone, or someone will mug you, or people will mob you, or you'll be kidnapped, or you'll be photographed and rumors will spread, or the country will hate you, or your reputation will go down the drain, or-"
"I sat in the back of the tour bus and wore a baseball hat. I didn't want anything to happen yet."
"Oh, then that makes it alright," she laughed sarcastically and threw her hands up in the air. They fell back down onto the table with a thud. "Why don't we just let Jason go buy a can of hair product down the street by himself, and see if he comes back alive. Noah told the world he likes kale the other day in an interview, and twitter had a stroke. Imagine what would happen if this got any worse."
"I actually don't use product in my hair," Jason piped in, running a hand through his almond colored, bouncy quiff. Keegan slapped him in the arm and shook his head, as to warn him not to talk. They began having a silent, private conversation of their own, and Taylor turned back to me.
"The point is, Alex, tell us, so we can prepare. We could have reserved a bus for you."
"I don't want a reserved bus," I cut in. "It's inconsiderate, and lonely. Lauren and I would have been the only ones on there. It makes it awkward."
"Ah yes, and now we come to Lauren," Taylor ignored me. "Who is she, exactly?"
"A girl."
"Your girlfriend? Your friend? Your long lost sister? Your exclusive girlfriend? We need to feed a story to the press, so this doesn't happen again." She pointed sharply at the magazine. I reluctantly gave in.
"She's a girl, a girl that I like a lot. Her name is Lauren Greenwood, and we've been on two dates," I reached for the giraffe figure again. Taylor nodded, writing something down.
"Alright, well now isn't the best time for you to get a girlfriend," she mumbled to herself quietly.
"Excuse me?" I laughed, confused. "I can get a girlfriend any time I want. I mean, the picture's out now. I know it isn't an ideal situation, but it's my choice. If I want to date her, I will."
"In the middle of a tour? You have two weeks left in New York, then what happens to your relationship? We have a new fragrance coming out. Plus, we've got the Keegan's baby issue-"
"That child is not an issue!" Keegan stood up, tuning into the conversation. His face cold stone, defending his unborn child.
Taylor sighed and rubbed her forehead. "Well whatever it is, it's causing an explosion in the press. I'm going to need you to send out a tweet saying that you and Lauren didn't go on any dates, and then not see her or be in contact with her for a couple days so we don't get anymore pictures showing up. We need the press to die down. If you play dead in front of a bear, it usually leaves you alone."
"But we were on a date." I argued. "The pictures leaked, and everyone knows now. Why is it such a big deal that I went on a couple dates?"
"Because Alex!" Taylor snapped for a second, before composing herself. "The band has developed certain personalities over the years. You are a go-lucky, single dude from Seattle. So far, the image has sold billions of albums, and won hundreds of awards. We aren't changing it now, because people don't like change."
"Well, you don't see Keegan running around with a sky blue spiky hairdo from two years ago anymore, do you? Why does everyone get to try new things, but me!" I snapped back, slamming the giraffe down on the desk. It wobbled on its skinny, awkward legs, and toppled over.
I stormed out of the IKEA office, down the stairs, and into a smaller hallway, with paintings of flowers on the walls, and a floor length window that overlooked a shoe store across the street. I sat in front of the window, and ran my hand through my hair, sighing angrily.
Jason's shoes softly pounded down the hallway, and he sat down next to me, not saying anything, but looking out over the people living there lives on the other side of the glass.
"I bet any of them can get a girlfriend anytime they want," I mustered, pressing my forehead into the glass, my warm breath leaving fog so it was harder to see them. Jason smiled grimly.
"That's because they're normal."
My head whirled around to face him. "What, and I'm not?" I snapped. He gave me a sympathetic stare.
"Really, Alex? You haven't been for the past six years, and that's alright." He declared. I huffed and turned back to the window, looking out. A couple stood next to a light post across the street, holding linking and laughing. I closed my eyes and put my head in my hands, not wanting to look outside, or at Jason.
"It's not like I'm naive. I understand how the press is, but I just can't do that to her. I said I liked her, and I said it was a date. And I told her that if she laid low, this would blow over. I can't claim otherwise and then just not talk to her. It isn't fair, to me, or to her, or to anyone. She'll feel like it was her fault, our last conversation, she-" I stifled a groan, and felt him pat me on the back.
"You do understand why it has to be done though, right?" He tried to reason gently with me. "Remember what happened with Emily? The press had a field day. It was a disaster. You told the truth. They tore her apart. Now you're dating someone and you want everyone to know again. You realize that it'll be worse, since she isn't a celebrity?'
I shrugged and looked down at my shoes again, playing with one of the laces. He rubbed my hair around, and I brushed away his hand. Then I heard Keegan and Noah start down the hallway.
"Dude, you've gone on two dates now? Since when?" Keegan called. I sighed.
"You guys are nice and all, but can I have a minute to myself?" I smiled weakly up at them. Jason nodded, and dragged Keegan away with him. Noah lingered for a moment, looking out the window with me.
"You shouldn't do everything Taylor says. She's not perfect. She's literally slept with every single guy in the building. She tried to hit on me just now after you ran out all awesome," he announced. I chuckled and looked up at him.
"What did you say to her?"
He set his hands on the window, leaning over, his back arched like a cat. "I just stared at her, and then I left. All I'm saying is, she doesn't know everything. She has no right to control your love life, because hers is an absolute mess."
"Are you telling me to rebel against management? Because she hit on you?"
"Not management," Noah's normally blank and intimidating features cracked and revealed a small smile brewing in his lips. "Just her."
I stood up to look him in the eye, they glinted with something that resembled amusement, if Noah was possible of showing amusement. He kept his cards close to his chest, fame had slowly worn him down. When we first formed the band, at the beginning, he had been full of hope, always telling stupid jokes and keeping our spirits up. I looked over him now.
His eyes sparked with rebellion, but were normally a dead hazel green. He looked more hollow, more dull. He wore darker colors, which made his cheekbones appear to poke out even more than they did. Tattoos littered his arms, and shoulders. The physical toll of all of the weight he carried. His hair had stayed the same though, thin, wispy and brown.
Management and media had done this to him. They had subdued him. That's what they always did. I wasn't going to let them do it to me. I grinned at him, setting my hand down on his shoulder.
"Challenge excepted."