Chapter Seven
"Damn," she groaned, looking at the clock. Like a shot, she was off the bed, reaching for the clothes that somehow ended up on the floor. She didn't remember much of last night, but she didn't forget that she waas supposed to be having a meeting with Joe that morning.
Once her blouse was somewhat buttoned, and hanging wrong, she ran into the bathroom, picking up the toothbrush that she kept there. In the midst of brushing her teeth, she rolled her eyes and ran out. Brooklyn's eyes looked around for her shoes, and where she might have left there, but she couldn't see them anywhere. "Damn," she mumbled again, this time around the handle of the toothbrush that was sticking out of her mouth. Her feet dashed into the small living room, trying to smile at Tim, who was sittng on the couch, sipping coffee. She said something that he couldn't understand, as she sat beside him, buckling her shoes.
Her bag was up in her hand, and she looked down at the buttons that were done up incorrectly. Rolling her eyes one more time, she headed for the door, trying to say goodbye at the same time. "Brooklyn, you-" and that was all she heard as she slammed the door behind her.
Running the best she could in her heels, she went out the door, the same time digging around for her keys in her bag. She unlocked the door to her truck and climbed in, looking at herself in the mirror. "Ugh," she said, looking at her hair, and turning on the engine. She backed out as quick as she could, and made it home in a record time of three minutes. She climbed out and ran to the door, opening it and slamming it behind her. "Good morning, Brooke. I see that I don't have to ask where you have...why is there a toothbrush sticking out of your mouth?" Austin asked, rubbing his eyes as he came out of the living room.
Letting out a scream of frustration, she went upstairs, into her room. As she went to the bathroom, she shed her clothes behind her in a trail, and dropped the toothbrush in the sink. "Stupid, stupid, stupid," she chastised herself, turning on the water and jumping in.
This was definitely not her morning, she realized, when she noticed that she had forgotten to take any towels out of the closet before getting in the shower. She repeated her little mantra and came from the shower, shivering as she reached up for a towel. She had just wrapped it around herself, and was working on brushing her teeth for real this time, when Austin walked in. "I guess I don't need to remind you that you're supposed to meet with Joe this morning?"
"No, you don't need to remind me," she said in a tired voice, sticking her toothbrush back into her mouth and picking up her brush to pull it through her hair. "This is not my morning, and I'm already going to be ten minutes late," she mumbled, sighing when she hit a snag. "Go make yourself useful and pour me a cup of coffee, please, oh older brother of mine," she said, batting her eyelashes innocently, as the phone rang. "I got it." She ran into her room and picked up the handset. "Hello, Turner residence," she panted. Listening for a moment, she made a face. "No, thanks, I'm very happy with my long distance provider."
Hanging up without another word, she turned just in time to see the steaming mug of coffee in front of her. "For you, my queen." Brooklyn shot him a nasty look, sipping it as she ran to her closet. Her hands sped over the pants and skirts, trying to find something to wear. "Okay, I get the clue. Naked sister is about to present. So, before I leave, I just have one thing to say."
"What is it," she said, not turning around.
He snickered, his hand on the doorknob. "You know, it might help if, once in awhile, you do a load of laundry." The door slammed shut, and with her frustrated groan, came his giddy laughter.
"Not a good morning in New York land," she muttered, smiling when she realized the slip of her tongue. A mouthful of hot coffee, she threw a pair of black jeans on the bed, quickly followed by an old tee shirt that she hadn't worn in ages. Turning around from the closet, she threw the towel on the floor, and placed her mug beside it, changing into the fresh clothes. "I really do need to do some laundry," she said to herself, as she tugged the shirt over her head. Her hand landed on her blue jean jacket and threw that on as well, before sitting down to put on the first pair of shoes she saw. Standing up in the sandals, she picked up her coffee and drank it as she ran down the stairs.
She bumped into Austin in the kitchen and handed over the mug. "Brooke, do you have any idea what you're wearing?" he asked, going to put the mug in the sink.
"Nope, and I could care less. I'm going to be killed by Joe. Watch for the news report," she added, kissing his cheek. She ran out the door, before it opened and she grabbed her truck keys. The door slammed a second time, and he sighed, running one hand over his hair.
"Something tells me that when Joe takes one look at her, he's not going to be mad. He's going to die laughing."
"Bad morning, Brooke?" the secretary at the front desk asked as she ran by.
Her head whipped around, hair flying in her face. "Can you tell?" Her sandals pounded towards the elevator. "Damn!" she shouted, slamming her hand against the closed, metal doors. "Why is it whenever I have to get somewhere, you're at the top floor, you stupid hunk of machienary?" she asked, before turning to the stairs.
The morning seemed eerily familiar, other than the fact that there was no bagel clamped in her mouth. Chuckling under her breath, she pushed the door open and ran down to the meeting room. She entered, looked around and held back a groan. Everyone was there this time, and she was late. Joe turned to her with angry eyes.
The only thing she could do was shrug off her jacket and sit down. Austin was close. Joe did start to laugh, followed by everyone else. "Do you realize that you're wearing THAT?" he asked, pointing to her shirt. She looked down and groaned audibly this time. It had to have been that shirt, she thought to herself. It had to have been that shirt that she grabbed in a hurry and threw on. It was almost always that shirt that she took when she was in a rush.
"No, I didn't, but thanks for informing me," she said, sighing. She looked down again at the canary yellow and neon pink stripes that adorned her top half at the moment. The shirt was only used for when she was cleaning, and she had worn it to the studio once, at a moment like the one she was experiencing. "Sorry, I know I'm late. I had a late dinner date last night, and I slept in. Can we just get started, please? I'm sure you all know what I'm like when I don't get enough coffee into me."
They all nodded knowingly, and Joe launched into his spiel. "Okay, we've decided on the tour. We want a little time for your first single to get up to number one, and then we'll be pushing you out. It's only November, and the tour will start in January."
She raised her hand, as if in school. "Why are we waiting so long? My single's at number four and holding steadily on the Hot 100, and it's number five on the country charts."
"I know. We're going to work on the video in December, and then your second single will be released the moment that you're number one. That way the fans have two songs to look forward to. They may have heard the first one before, but it's a cover for you, and it's a new format. The middle of January is the middle of the tour, and it'll go on until May or so. If there's enough interest, we'll expand it until June, but there's one problem."
Brooklyn sat up and started to wave her hand in the air frantically. "Ooh, ooh. I know, pick me. Please, pick me!" she said anxiously. Joe chuckled and pointed to her. "Could the problem be that my current contract runs out in the beginning of May? Oh, I am a genius! Just call me Brooklyn Einstein." Her famous smile flashed, and once the people that were lower on the totem pole realized that it was a joke, they chuckled. That didn't stop the two from bursting out into laughter.
"Yeah, that would be it. Curb's a little worried about you touring while not under contract, but I told the powers that be that I would bring it up with you."
She nodded and reached for a doughtnut in the middle of the table. "I don't see any problems about it. I mean, I'm more than happy to sign with Curb again-"
"Let me guess, you and Austin were talking about it."
Taking a bite, she nodded again. "Yeah. I'm hapy where I am, and of course, I'll want to see the new deal, but there's no doubt in my mind that I won't sign again. As for the tour problem, if they agree to allow me to tour without a contract and pay me the same, I'm fine with it. Just make sure that they have a contract all set for me when I come back, and I'll sign my life away for another four albums." Everyone chuckled again, and Brooklyn refused the urge to roll her eyes. She hated these meetings when there were people that were just put on her tour, and they didn't know her. They would bow down to her like she was a goddess for a few weeks, before they found out that she treated everyone the same. For awhile, she'd have to put up with the polite chuckles and questions if she needed anything, anything at all.
"I'll bring it up with them and see what they say. That's pretty well what they wanted to hear, but I have to go through all the problems with working out the deal and everything. So, the tour dates are fine?" She nodded, mouth filled with chocolate doughnut at the time. "Okay. The actual date is January 27th, which is what, four days after your birthday?" She nodded agan.
"Happy birthday to me, happy birthday to me..."
"Sure, Brooke, whatever you say." She grinned brightly, as her hand shot out for another pastry. "We picked out the openers for you, one from Canada, one from the States. Rascal Flatts, and Sons of the Desert."
She leaned forward and cupped her hand over her mouth as she laughed. "Yay, country's equvilant to the boy band. So, in other words, I have NSYNC and the Backstreet Boys opening for me." Joe sent her a confused look. "Hey, I did my homework. I know who they are, I just don't listen to their music."
"You'll be meeting with them in early January. You've also been asked to perform at Dick Clark's Rockin' New Years Eve, but that's taped on December 30th. The only other country performer is Lonestar, so at least you know them. Now, we have two tour buses, and as usual, you'll be with the band." Both Brooklyn and the band gave out a cheer. "Great, it's like a frat party on there, only without the mooning."
One of the band members, Brad, started to laugh above everyone else. "I don't think you really remember two tours ago, do you? When the six of us had our butts plastered to the windows for you to see when you went by. We even got Brooke in on that one."
"The only time," she shouted above the laughter.
Joe was shaking his head. "Okay, guys. You'll have plenty of time to party on the tour, but right now, we have to get this finished. Now, we started to set up some of the dates, and we have all until the beginning of May set."
"That seems to be a dangerous time this year. Everything is revolving around the start of May. Should I be worried?"
"No, it's the Ides of March that you always worry about."
She shrugged innocently. "Hey, Julius Caesar was killed that day, and I'm not really wanting to have a replay. That's a scary thought for me."
"For everyone that's new, just to let you know, Brooklyn doesn't take any calls, doesn't get in any vehicles, and never has a show on the Ides of March. She's read Julius Caesar one too many times." She nodded with that, a smile playing on her lips. "The tour is a little different this time. You'll do the Canadian circuit, meaning a few shows in Toronto, and then across to the West Coast, ending in Vancouver. We've also been asked for you to play at the...hold on, I have the name here somewhere. The Merritt Mountain Music Festival. No one's sure who the other artists are, but I'll get back to you on that. I know that you played it once before, and they want to bring in a big name." She nodded knowingly. "You're pretty big in Australia, so we're going to toss a few dates in there. Basically, most of February will be out there. So, Valentine's Day is out."
She faked a pout. "Poor me, whatever will I do without my box of chocolates and my Hallmark card? I just have one question. Austin?" She looked around the room. "For those who don't know, Austin is my older brother, and you'll probably see a lot of him around during the tour."
"He's coming with us for the beginning, I know that, but whenever he gets time off, he can come out, other than Australia. Canada is fine, though."
"Great, now let's get on with the good stuff. When are we booked for the orgies?"
The front door slammed, and Austin turned to look at the very tired female leaning against the door. Her eyes were shut, and she had a very unhappy look on her face. "The meeting JUST got out," she said with a sigh. "Moses, lead me to the couch." He chuckled and took her hand, pulling her into the living room. Her eyes were still closed when he pushed her shoulders, making her fall onto the couch. "Much better, but I could have done without the new bruises."
"Anything important?"
"Yeah, your baby sister wants some hot chocolate." She smiled faintly. "Sorry, there were a few new things, but nothing really interesting. Just the normal stuff. However, you're invited to come whenever you want," she said, starting to raise her voice when he walked into the kitchen, "and I found out that I'm touring without a contract."
The tap shut off, and she could hear him plugging in the electric kettle. "How is that possible?"
She shrugged to herself. "Don't ask me, I just told them that I would be happy touring without a contract as long as Curb promises that there will be a new one waiting for me when I come back. I'm going to get you to read over it while I'm touring and you can tell me what it says. You know that I hate things like that."
"Yeah, sounds like you." He came back in and handed her a mug. "Toffee flavored. I thought that you would need the special hot chocolate." She smiled her thanks and put the mug down on the table to cool off. He started to talk again when the doorbell rang. "I'll get it," she said, running to get it.
She opened it and smiled when she saw a person concealed by a bouquet of white roses. "Hi, is Brooklyn Turner here?"
"That would be me," she said to the flowers. The man lowered them and smiled charmingly at her. "Aww, did you bring me flowers, Marcus? I feel special," she said, when she recognized the face. She had gone to high school with him, but hadn't talked to him in a few years.
He looked surprised by the warm welcome. "Unfortunately, they're not from me. Hey, I heard the new album. Good job." She smiled and leaned against the doorframe. "I didn't know that you lived here. When did you move out of the trailer?"
"A few years ago," she said, running one hand through her hair. She mentally wondered if she had any money in her pockets, and was happy when she realized that there was a twenty left in her pocket. "I know, things have really changed since back then."
He nodded. "Yeah, they really have. You look great, though. Not a lot like the Brooklyn that I knew, but I'm liking this attitude you have. Now, that's the old Brooklyn." She smiled again at the words. "Right, the flowers," he said with a laugh, handing over the bouquet. She could already tell that there was two dozen roses in her hands, and she knew that Tim never sent her flowers. "Just sign here, please."
Chuckling, she tranferred the flowers to one hand and took the pen. She scribbled her name on the paper as he held the clipboard and then handed back the pen. "Here," she said, pulling out the twenty. "I know that I owe you ten from that lunch that you paid for back in ninth grade, and consider the other ten inflation. I know that you wouldn't take a tip from me."
"You're right, but you still have a good memory. I'll catch you around town sometime," he said, turning to walk away.
"No way! You're going to call me one day, and we'll head out to the diner," she said with a smile, closing the door. The last phrase had been an impulse for her, one that she couldn't understand, but she liked the way it sounded. It had been ages since she had hung out with any of the "gang" in years, but she missed them. She missed the jokes, the gossip, and the trouble that they had all caused. She knew that she couldn't cause much trouble, now that she was signed to a contract, but that wouldn't stop her from causing a little, she thought.
Austin walked around the corner. "Whoa, who's the big spender. Don't tell me that you're sending yourself flowers again," he mentioned, laughing at the face she gave him.
She carried the roses and vase back to the living room and put them on the table. "Of course not. That was only once, and I got my date to the junior prom that way," she said, with a faint smile. "I don't even know who they're from." Austin peered into the mess of petals and pulled out an envelope with her name on it. "Thank you, brainiac," she said with a smirk, ripping open the envelope. He handed her the reading glasses on the end table, while she settled into a ball, reading the letter. Her hand reached out for her mug, as he turned on the television.
Dear New York,
Did that give it away? I know, the roses are a little late in coming, and I didn't know what your favorite flower was, but every woman loves roses (I hope). I know, I thanked you enough times already, but I just had to do it one more time. I was listening to the song again last night, and it hit me that I never really showed up how much I loved working with you. I noticed that I could feel every emotion in the song, I could hear the pain in your voice when you were singing and only a good artist can really put that forth. That has to mean something about you.
I also wanted to thank you for the mini vacation that we had. It's not very often that I get to do something like that, and I think that you taught me some of the finer points of life. I've learned that there's not a lot that a person can do when they're famous, but you don't seem to notice any of that, and I just wanted to thank you for that, was well.
Okay, you've had enough of my brainless ramblings. Still, thank you.
Sincerely,
JC
She made a face at the last line. She always hated the word 'sincerely' because it meant so much and absolutely nothing at the same time. Still, the letter caused a smile to spread on her face. "Well, who are they from?" Austin asked, his eyes glued to the television.
"Yes, it's Faith Hill, but don't you think that you're getting a little obsessive? I mean, she IS married, after all." He turned to look at her and made a face that reflected in her reading glasses. "They were from JC, and before you jump to conclusions, it was just a thank you." With that, she stuck her tongue out at him, and took off her glasses.
His attention turned back to the television, for the end of her video. "Let me just ask you this, dear Brooklyn. When has Tim ever sent you flowers?"
She made another face as she picked up the flowers, and took her glasses in hand. The mug of hot chocolate was in her other hand as she started to walk out. "Let me ask you this, dear Austin. When have YOU ever sent me flowers?"
Halfway up to the stairs, she heard his shouted reply. "Valentine's Day, four years ago." Shaking her head with a laugh, she opened the door to her room with much difficulty. The flowers were put beside her bed, and she looked down at the note for a few moments before her glasses were put back on, and she reread it. What she didn't catch the first time, she noticed, was the scribbled e-mail address.
Without thinking, she got up and walked over to the hope chest that was at the end of her bed. She had bought one, thinking that it would be good to store the extra stuff around her room, but it turned into a cedar box full of memories. With a faint smile, she sat down cross legged and opened the lid, looking inside. The faint smell of rose came out to her, the scent that was on the paper her mother had used to write her a letter when she wasn't even a year old. It brought a single tear to her eye when she thought about all the broken promises, all the wishes that never came true. All the things that her mom had promised, hoped for, wished for that turned out to be nothing but flowery script on a piece of scented stationary.
She lifted some of the papers into her lap and started to look through them. Baby pictures, little notes that she wanted to keep. Her fingers skipped across the surface of the first picture that Tim and Brooklyn had ever taken together. She smiled at the sight of it, but she couldn't help but notice that they didn't look as happy as they used to. She put it off to the side of a moment, and came upon the picture of her and JC that she had thrown in there. She didn't know why she did. It was almost an undescribable force that made her, but it looked like it belonged there.
Picking through the notes, she found the ones that Tim had sent her, and started to read them. A frown appeared on her face as she started to compare them to the note that JC had sent. It didn't seem like there was anything the same. JC's note had filled her with a sense of belonging, a sense of happiness and joy that someone took the time out to sit down and write to her. Tim's note were scribbled little pieces of paper.
I took the garbage out. Love you, Tim.
Took the garbage out? What the hell kind of love note was that supposed to be, she wondered. All of her childhood, all of her life, she had fantasies of the perfect relationship. A man who was caring and understanding, one that would let her acheive her own dreams, but still love her the same. Someone who would write her a note that meant something, not that he took the freaking garbage out. That was something that deserved to be on the refridgerator, held up by a magnet that looked like a piece of fruit or a dolphin. Not something that was left by your bedside with a bowl of chocolate kisses, and cinnoman hearts. I took the garbage out?
"No way," she whispered, shaking her head. "Just stop it. Now you're comparing JC and Tim. That's like comparing apples and oranges." She quickly copied down the e-mail address and put the piece of paper in the hope chest, followed by everything else. The lid was closed, and she made her way to her laptop computer. It sat on the edge on her desk, looking neglected.
As soon as she was logged on and she had opened her browser, she opened her favorites file, and clicked on the link to her offical webpage. She scoured over the news bits on the front page and checked out some of her fans comments. Smiling at them, she came upon one that caused her to lose that smile.
Her hand seemed to be working on its one as she clicked on a new link from her favorites, and she waited for the page to come up. The picture that accompinied it was almost chilling, as she scrolled down, not wanting to look. She continued on, reading the article that she already knew, word for word. One that she had even been caught saying in her sleep. Shaking her head, she followed the link at the bottom of the news article, leading her to one that was related. "Mommy," she whispered, putting her fingers up to the screen.
The frozen smile, the cold eyes, it was all that she remembered. The perfect black hair, the gold necklace around her neck...it was a reminder of how things used to be in Brooklyn's life. She almost looked like a stranger, staring back at a daughter that she hadn't seen in years. One that she hadn't really seen her whole life. They were complete opposites, in more than one way. Both Austin and Brooklyn had taken after their father, and almost looked like twins. They were their own persons, though. Completely different from the woman that was on the computer screen, or the man that was laying underground in a Nashville cemetary.
"Mommy, I did what you wanted. Why aren't you here to see that?" she whispered before she disconnected her computer and walked over to the bed, ready for a long deserved cry.
"I'm awake. Sort of," she said, her voice filled with sleep. Joe couldn't help but wince on his end. Usually, Brooklyn would have been awake at ten in the morning, but she was gearing up for the tour, and getting all the sleep she could. "Why me? Why do I always seem to be the recipient of a really early phone call?"
There was a smile in her voice when she said it, and that gave him hope. "Because we all love you enough to annoy you? Only people that really love you would do that. Now, do you want to know why I'm calling, or do you just want to work on your pleasent greeting for a little while."
"The reason, please. I'm about to pass out here from exhaustion. I didn't get much sleep last night."
That much was evident in her voice, but he wouldn't ever know the reason. She had lain awake, knowing that the nightmares she had when JC had stayed with her were bound to return. They always did, especially around this time. She usually didn't talk about them to Austin, because he thought that she was just over-reacting. It didn't matter to her mind, because they always came back, and sometimes she couldn't remember them when she had them. She would be scared, but there was nothing in them. It all reminded her of "The Outsiders", and that one line that Ponyboy speaks kept coming into her mind. I had one of those nightmares again. The ones that I can't remember. "Well, this won't make you happy, then. Your single is moving pretty steadily, and so are the sales of your album."
She rolled her eyes. "Yup, I can feel it coming."
"What can you feel coming, Brooke?"
"Oh, the but. There's always the but, and I can hear it in your voice."
He chuckled lowly. She was right, Brooklyn was always right. She could read anything hidden in someone's voice. "You're right, there's a but. It's a big one, and I'm not talking about yours."
Groaning, she sat up and reached for the sweatshirt beside her bed. It was freezing in the house, and the weather didn't look like the normal Tennessee weather. "Your wittiness always surprises me. That is so old that it's not even funny."
"They, as in the powers that be that run yor life, have decided that it's so popular they want you to do the video for the song. Like now."
She groaned again. This was the last thing that she needed to hear. "Have we even asked for permission to make a video? I know that we have permission for me to cover the song, but are we allowed to make the video?"
He sighed. "Yes, we do. Last thing you wanted to hear, I know." She grunted, her way of saying yes early in the morning. "Here's the kicker. We found a place to make the video, and even a house that can be trashed, but the real kicker is that it's in Calfornia."
"At least it fits with the song. I'm going to hate myself for asking this, but when do I fly out?" She crossed her fingers, hoping for an answer that she wanted. Unfortunately, she didn't get it.
"Tomorrow. You start filming the day after, and it should take two days, the way that we figure. That's only because we need to use the afternoon light for the main shots, and we might throw in one night shot. We're using the same director that you used for Dancing With Angels, so you'll know who it is and how he works."
She fell back on her pillows. "This sucks the BIG ONE!" she shouted. "Sorry, but it does. Man, this is supposed to be my vacation, and I'm flying out to do a video already?" She sighed. It wasn't another good day in Brooklyn's life. "Yeah, I can work with it. As long as Austin comes with me. He has the time off, so he won't mind."
"Sorry, Brooke, but I can't do anything. They pulled out the fact that you're under contract and all that. I was trying to get you a few days, but they can only use the private beach for a little while."
"Uh huh. It's not that I mind, because I don't. It's just...I was planning on a vacation, and now this comes up. Yay. I'll be in touch, Joe." They hung up and Brooklyn closed her eyes. She didn't want to leave Belleview. It was rarely that she had time to stay in the town, and she was being forced to leave again to shoot the video.
With a sigh, she got out of bed and padded around in her bare feet, looking for something to do. She didn't want to go downstairs for coffee, she didn't want to pack...she didn't really want to do anything. It was a lazy day for her, and it seemed that she had a lot to do.
Giving up on doing nothing, she ventured downstairs to find Austin bent dilligently over his binder. "Morning, yours has to be better than mine. You want some info? Well, too bad, you're getting it anyway," she said crossly, making her first trip of what was sure to be many to the coffee maker.
"Uh oh. This doesn't sound good. I may be walking into something, but I'm all ears."
She nodded crisply as she turned around with a mug clutched in her hand. He was surprised to find that her knuckles were turning while. "That phone call? It was Joe. A call from him this early in the morning...hell, anytime in the morning means bad news, right?" Austin nodded knowingly. "Well, it's bad. How would you like to make a little trip with me back to sunny California? I was supposed to shoot the new video in December, but there's a big demand from it, and guess what? I'm flying out tomorrow. Apparently, it's the only time that they could get the private beach, but somehow, I'm not inclined to believe that."
"I'll go, but remind me to bring something to do. Those shoots can be a little tiring." She nodded and started to sip at her coffee. The way that everything was going, she was going to hate the world very soon.
"Ugh! I feel like I'm being choked!" Brooklyn screamed in frustration, pulling at the fake diamond choker that she was wearing. Austin looked up from where he was sitting on the sand and started to laugh at her. "Oh, it's not funny. Brooklyn Land has not been happy for the past few days, and it isn't getting any better."
He leaned over to the side and smiled at the woman sitting beside him. "Don't worry, this is normal for her when nothing seems to be going right. She'll snap out of it in a few minutes. She's not usually a prima donna."
Alyssa nodded, her eyes on the pacing figure of the country singer. "Yeah, she looks a little pissed. Have the past few days really been that bad for her?" His mind traveled back to the confession that Brooklyn had made in their living room and nodded solemnly. She caught the look and sat back, continuing to watch her new friend.
She continued pacing until all of a sudden, she stopped, and looked at the pair with a bright smile. "I'm really playing a diva here, huh?" she asked with a laugh. Austin caught the referance she was making and started to chuckle with her. "A few years back, a few of my friends and I were out at the mall, and we started to try on clothes in a really expensive store. It was our diva-phase and it just never dropped." She came and sat down beside them, making sure to put a blanket under her before she did so.
The three of them talked for about a half hour before she was called away for the first shot. "We're going to do the shots in sequence, so that it's easier for you to grasp. Brooklyn, don't give me that look. I'm not calling you blonde."
She nodded, tucking her hair behind her ears. The director quickly moved the hair so that it was back to where it was. "I know, I just didn't like the way it sounded," she said with a teasing smile. "So, this would be the walking through the house shot?"
He nodded and started to explain. "You start in the bedroom, sitting on the bed. Make sure to look in the camera when you sing the beginning." She nodded quickly. "After the first two lines, you walk out and head down the hallway. Make sure that you linger at the hole in the wall, sort of run your hand by it." She nodded again. "You should be out on the beach by the chorus. At the end, you have to bend down and look at the footprints. They're all ready, so try not to ruin them. During the second verse, make sure to wave at the little kid that'll be down the beach. That's a must. In the beginning of the next chorus, look over the display, and make sure that you get into a clear shot of you and the picture. That's the whole basis for the video. After you finish singing, walk into the water. Simple as that, right?"
"So, we're trying to get a one shot thing here, huh? Why do we have two days blocked off?"
Smiling, he adjusted the choker around her neck and looked her over critically. The outfit worked for the video, and made Brooklyn look more stunning than usual. A simple white skirt, made of many layers of see through material, topped by a white tank top, and a see through white long sleeved shirt. She looked like an angel, and that was what they were going for. "Precautions, Brooke. Just in case it doesn't work. We really do want a one shot video, because it would make it look more smooth. It's telling a mini story, and we don't want to have to break off. We're only using two cameras, but camera one is your main concern. You ready?" She grinned and nodded, running up the stairs and into the house. She followed the camera man's cable to the bedroom and looked around.
They had done a great job of trashing the place and made it look like a woman really did go crazy. Brooklyn took her place on the bed, legs crossed as they waited for the cue. It wasn't often that she covered a song, but when she had the opportunity for this one, she jumped at it. She had started out on the Garth Brooks tour, as his opener, when she first came into the business. Covering one of his songs was a dream come true for someone like her, who idolized him.
The cue came, and the music started to play. Lifting her head, she looked straight into the camera and started to mouth the words, a smirk playing at the corner of her mouth. "They packed up all his buckles, and shipped his saddle to his dad. By the way the house looked, she must have took it bad."
Standing up, she started to walk forward, the camera man walking backwards carefully. Another person pulled his cable so that it wouldn't be visible in the shot. "The workers come on Monday, to fix the door and patch the wall." Like she was instructed, she stopped long enough to look at the hole in the wall curiously before running one finger around it, a look of puzzlement on her face. "They say she just went crazy, the night she got the call."
The trio moved outside the house, Brooklyn pausing long enough on the stairs to look around the beach, before decending. Her bare feet ended in the soft sand, as she started to walk forward, keeping her head to the side to mouth to the camera. "He was up in Wyoming and drew a bull no man could ride. He promised her that he's turn out. Well, it turned out that he lied. All the dreams that they'd been living in that California sand, died right there beside him, in Cheyenne."
She made a quick turn in the sand, and backed up slowly, just enough to get the ocean in the shot as the chorus started. "They say she just went crazy, screaming out his name. She ran into the ocean and to this day they claim, that if you go down by the water, you'll see her footprints in the sand." It was there that she bent down and looked at the footsteps that had been placed there. One hand trailed inside one of them, before she looked back up to the camera from where she was sitting. "Cause every night she walks the beaches of Cheyenne."
She stood up and walked over the footprints delicately, so that she wouldn't disturb them. "They never found her body, just her diary by the bed. It told about the fight they had, and the words that she had said. When he told her he was riding, she said 'then I don't give a damn, if you never come back from Cheyenne." She stopped long enough to smile at the two actresses that were playing mother and daughter. She waved to the little girl, a doll with brown curls and big blue eyes, who returned the wave. The mother pulled on her hand to take her along, and Brooklyn started walking again, kicking up little tufts of sand as she did so. "Nobody can explain it. Some say she's still alive. They've even claimed they're seen her, on the shoreline, late at night." She paused at the display that had been set up, where there was a small gathering of people. She kneeled beside it, and ran her fingers over her own face, who the picture was of. Flowers adorned it, making it a small vigil of the dead woman. "So, if you go down by the water, you'll see her footprints in the sand. Cause every night she walks the beaches of Cheyenne."
Brooklyn had turned back around so that her back was to the water, a little further away from the display. "Cause every night, she walks the beaches of Cheyenne." She gave the camera the saddest and most lost look that she could muster before she turned and started walking into the ocean. Taking a deep breath when the music stopped, she knew that she was far out enough. She held her breath and ducked under the water, making it look like she had drowned.
Waiting a little while longer, she pulled herself back out, and walked back to the beach. A towel was waiting for her, and she wrapped it around herself. "Man, I got the creeps just acting that out. Very nice," she said, exchanging a high five with the director.
"That was great," he said, rubbing his hand across her shoulders to warm her. "I think I just got a new idea, though. I know that we said it would be one shot, but do you think that you could convince your brother to play a role in this?" She shrugged as they walked back to the house, asking for an explanation. "Well, when I was listening to that line, 'when he told her he was riding, she said then I don't give a damn if you never come back from Cheyenne', why don't we throw that in? The only reason that I say Austin is we already got clear shots of all the men in the little gathering, and it wouldn't help for one of them to play a dead man. Why don't you bring it up with him? It'd be a night shot, and we can do it in a few hours. I'll ask them to find something new for you to wear."
She ran off with the towel wrapped around her. "Well? What do you think of my new look?" she asked, laughing when she made it to the two sitting on the sand.
They raised their heads and started to laugh. "Oh, Brooke, if you could see the rats nest on your head right now, you would be scared."
"And the running mascara and eyeliner really adds to the whole shebang," Alyssa added, pulling up the blanket for her to sit on.
Brooklyn grinned brightly. "Yeah, I know. I'm just so stylin' right now, it isn't even funny. This look should be illegal." They both nodded, laughing again. "Probably more illegal than I think," she said in a soft voice. "Anyway, Austin, how would you like to be a dead cowboy?" She pronounced it "cu-boy", and pretended to tip a cowboy hat on her head.
"Why me?" he asked.
She shrugged. "They need another male and they want to throw in an extra shot. Basically, it'll be you, closing a suitcase and leaving out the bedroom door. I'll be there, but I won't be in the shot. All I have to do is throw a water glass at the door after it closes, but they can't see me."
"I suppose. Tonight?" She nodded, as the three of them made plans for dinner that night.
Sighing, JC pulled the laptop computer closer to him. A feeling of guilt overcame him as he looked at the keyboard in disbelief. "You have to be kidding me," he mumbled, his eyes moving to the screen. He was already logged onto the Internet, and on the Yahoo! main page. The only problem was that he didn't know what to do, or how.
That wasn't really the only problem, he reminded himself. He couldn't believe that he was going to look around for someone's past, rather than ask them. The phone call from Austin had made him think. Why wouldn't he want him to ask about their parents, and what happened to them. He could tell that it was a sore subject for Brooklyn, but he never thought that it would turn out to the point where she was crying and asking her brother for help. Something wasn't sitting right with him, and he was the type of person that had to know everything.
Honestly was a rough subject from him, and he expected nothing but that from his friends. The thought that she was holding something back was bothering him more than he could imagine. She wasn't deliberatly lying, he was sure, but one phrase stuck in his mind. She told you they were in a car accident, fair enough, but it really hurt her. Fair enough. That's what puzzled him. It was as if Austin had told him that she had been lying, but he didn't pick that up from Brooklyn.
He knew, from experience, that it was possible that she had told herself that so many times that she believed it, but that phrase, that damned phrase kept pounding into his brain. Kept him thinking. Kept him wondering.
"Try number one," he said. He typed her name into the text box and pressed search, waiting to see what would come up. A list of memorabilia, conert info, clubs, and pictures came up. He scrolled down, knowing that it wasn't what he was looking for. "I must be crazy. I only know how to use my email program," he said with a groan.
A link came up with her name in bright blue. He clicked on it and waited. Lists of websites stared back at him. What surprised him was the fact that there was six stes of fan fiction on her, and two anti-Brooklyn Turner sites. His eyebrows raised high when he saw that. He didn't think that there was one person in the world who wouldn't like Brooklyn.
It had been a strange month for him. He had never met someone and become so close to them before in that short amount of time. She was too innocent, too sweet, too beautiful for no one to hate her, but it seemed that there was. "There's probably Garth Brooks hate sites, too." The link for her official homepage seemed to be the best place to start.
The page opened to a shot of her, and another list of links. He had absolutely no clue what he was doing, but clicked the link for her bio. When it came up, he read quickly.
NAME: Brooklyn Ariizona Turner
DATE OF BIRTH: January 23rd
RESIDES IN: Belleview, Tennessee
He groaned when he saw that it was everything that he already knew about her. He hit the back button a few times and looked back at the Yahoo! page. The news of the day jumped out at him. "Wouldn't it have been a news story? All I have to do is search for her name, right?" Nodding to himself, he went onto the news page and typed in her name a second time. Numerous articles came up, all about her shows, tours, what charities she was involved with and the such.
"Nothing. Absolutely nothing," he said as he clicked on one of the links about her winning ACMAs. Her picture came up, staring back at him. Brooklyn clad in a black evening gown, her brother beside her in a tuxedo. The camera had caught the sparkle of excitement in her eyes, as he started to read the article.
Brooklyn Turner made a clean sweep at the ACMA awards yesterday. "I didn't even expect to win one. I mean, I had some pretty stiff competitition, and going against some of my idols, like Reba McEntire...it just doesn't seem right." The young songstress had been nominated for four awards this year: Best Female Artist, Best Country Album ("Dancing With Angels"), Best Song by a female artist ("Night To Remember"), and Best Country duet or collaboration (with Tim McGraw "Don't Take The Girl") and won all of them. "You go from being a little girl living in a trailer park, to living out your dreams, and it just seems unreal. I'm still flying."
Accompinied by her brother, Austin Turner, she made quite an impact when she performed the song with Tim McGraw that won them the award. There was hardly a dry eye in the house. "No one could be more proud of her than I am," Turner said, while playfully messing his sister's hair. "I always said that as long as she's happy, then I support her in anything she does. She's definitely happy."
When asked about her parents, Brooklyn Turner replied: "I only wish that they could have been there. Just to know what they would think of what I've done, that's all I would want." Needless to say, they would definitely be happy for her.
"Now you've resorted to staring at woman on the Internet? You need help," a familiar voice said behind JC. He jumped, and turned around, a quick look of anger flashing in his eyes. "Whoa, settle down. Who is that, anyway? I know I've seen her before."
JC nodded and closed the page before shutting down his computer. "Yeah, you've probably seen her on television or something. That was Brooklyn Turner." One of Justin's eyebrows raised slowly, before the other one joined it. "Man, don't give me that look. New York does that too much as it is."
"New York, huh? Cute." He sat down on the bed and positioned himself in a more comfortable positon. One finger drummed on the top of the case loudly. "So, why, pray tell, were you looking at a picture of Miss Turner?" he asked, blinking innocently. JC returned the look, and a staring match started between them.
Finally, he sighed. "I wasn't looking at the picture. It was an old article about her at an awards show."
"Really? Which one?"
Shaking his head, he moved the computer away, just to stop the annoying noise. "The American Country Music Assosciation awards show. She had a clean sweep last year. Four out of four, including album of the year...and why do you want to hear this, anyway?"
Justin grinned brightly. "You know me. I have to get invovled in everyone's life. Classic Timberlake for you. So, you got the hots for her or something?" He whistled under his breath at the look he got. "I take it that you don't. Why, is she taken or something? A cute thing like her should be."
"Yeah, she's taken. She had a boyfriend back in Belleview."
Justin's eyes opened wide, and he looked at JC curiously. "You mean, Belleview, Tennessee? The one right outside of Nashville? No way. Does she have the cute accent?" He nodded. "I want to meet this girl."
"Woman. She's turning twenty five in January."
Justin's eyebrows went up again. "So, in other words, she's just the right age for her. She looked pretty cute in that picture. Now that I wouldn't mind dreaming about every night. Green eyes, perfect figure..."
"And apt to kick your ass if you talked like that around her." JC shook his head. "Why are you bothering me? Isn't there someone else that you can bother, and just why are you here, anyway?"
His shoulders moved in a shrug as he looked over his friend. "No real reason. I was bored, and there's nothing to do. I thought that you would probably be sleeping, but since you're not, why don't we go grab a bodyguard and head out to the movies or something. Anything so that I won't be so pathetically bored, and so that I won't bother you." His lower lip poked out in a pout, and he lowered his lashes, shading his brilliant blue eyes.
"No thanks," he said lowly.
Justin recognized the look on his face and held back a groan. JC could be the most stubborn person in the world, worse than he was, but when he was on a mission, he never quit. That was the look that was adorning his best friend's face, and Justin knew that it couldn't be good. "Okay, you're obviously thinking about something, and ten to one says that it's that Brooklyn chi...woman. So, spill. What's the matter?"
He groaned and fell back against the pillows on his bed. "Nothing. It's just...okay, don't tell anyone about this. Deal?" They shook hands quickly, though Justin didn't appreciate it that much. Usually, JC would trust him with anything, without asking to keep it quiet. It was a given that he would. It had to be something big if he was doubting his own friend. "Remember I took the vacation about a week ago to see New York when she was on her media tour?" Justin nodded, but didn't say a word. "Well, we were in her room, and I obviously put my foot in my mouth without realizing it. I asked her about her parents. I know that they're dead, but I didn't know what happened, so I asked."
"Can you be more stupid? That was a good move."
His eyes glared at him for a moment. "I know, I know. I even got a call from her brother about it. Talk about being over protective of a younger sister. I mean, he threatened me, in a nice way, but he threatened me, nonetheless. No, don't get that look in your eyes. Austin's a nice guy, and I know that he means well, but it's still...he told me what happened when she got home. Apparently, it was a bonehead enough move that she was crying."
"Once again, I applaud your stupidness. Ahem... go on," he said weakly when he saw the look he was about to get.
His chest rose and fell with a sigh. "Basically, I feel like shit. I mean, she was really upset. Upset enough that I spent the night in her room. She woke up because of a nightmare, but I didn't think it was related. Before you say it, Justin, yes, it was stupid. Okay? You really need to put some more words in your vocabulary."
A proud smile spread on Justin's face. "Hey, I plan on asking for a thesaurus for Christmas. That would be the perfect gift from you."
The comment didn't even get a chuckle out of JC. "Anyway, Austin said something that made me think. He said, she told you that they died in a car accident, fair enough...what the hell does that mean?"
"It means that she doesn't want to talk about it, genius. You know, for having so many years on me in age, you can be really stu...ridiculous sometimes. There, are you happy?" JC nodded absently. "Great, at least one of us is. I just lost my favorite word to describe you. This is off the topic, though. What I mean is that she doesn't want to tell you, because it still bothers her. You said so yourself." He paused and ran one hand over his curly hair. "It's obviously bothering you, but why were you looking on the Internet about her?" Both of them were silent for a moment, and they listened as a siren wailed by the partially opened window. "Oh, I get it now. You were trying to find out what happened to her parents, right? You know nothing about how to use a computer. You're worse than me, and that's pretty bad."
"I know. I just...she won't tell me, and that phrase has been bothering me. I didn't think that it would be so bad if I looked up on them. Is it?"
Justin nodded slowly. "I would think that it is. I mean, it's part of her private life, right? If anything, she'll tell you in time, but she might not be ready."
"They died when she was seventeen, but Austin said that it was close to her birthday. Within four days of it, or something like that."
Another low whistle came from the young pop prince. "You're kidding. That's harsh. I mean, it's bad enough to have your parents die on you, but so close to your birthday? That only makes it worse." He bit his lower lip for a few moments. "My advice is to leave it alone. She'll tell you when she's ready, but in the meantime, can we PLEASE go out to a movie? I am so bored."
His voice was getting dangerously close to a whine, and there was only one way to stop that. "Fine. Give me a few minutes, call for a bodyguard, and we'll be out of here."
With a grin and a triumphant chuckle, Justin ran out of the room to where the phone was in the living room. JC sat up and reached for a clean shirt, changing the one he was wearing before bending down to pick up his sneakers and put them on. He knew that he should take Justin's advice to heart, but he felt like he was in the middle of a mystery novel, and there was only one way to get to the end. That was to solve the mystery, and come out the victor. He didn't know what he would be the victor of, but Justin had a pretty good idea.
He knew not to bring it up, though. At least, not yet, but he knew that there would be plenty of opportunties to do so in the future. He just couldn't wait for that day.
Chapter Eight
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