Corporate Whore
Posted by DiF on Sunday, August 14, 2011 Under: Random
Title: Corporate Whore
Fandom: Chris Cornell
Characters: Chris, Alyssa, the kids, Yogi, special guest appearances by members of the Seattle Scene
Rating: R (language)
Word Count: 3026
Summary: Someone needs to slap Chris.... or save him.
With a trailer full of children, Alyssa hadn’t leeway to spend the meet and greet seated next to Chris. Normally she did, as much for his support as well as her own curiosity. But not that night. Nick was cranky, likely catching his sister’s cold. And Toni would not leave the baby alone, no matter what Alyssa said. It was a night her maternal role was greater than anything else. Or so she thought.
The door to the trailer suddenly burst open. Though it was dark, way past the children’s bedtime, her husband still wore sunglasses. Yet with even the concealment of his eyes, she knew Chris was filled with an unexplainable rage. He cursed and muttered about some ‘fucking bitch’ outside at the meet and greet, his fuming waking the baby.
“Christopher!” Alyssa snapped.
He looked to her, still wearing the sunglasses, “What?”
Rolling her eyes she scooped up the crying infant from her bassinet, “I don’t know or care what your problem is. I finally got the baby to sleep without Toni bothering her. Your behavior is—”
“She knows about the book,” he interrupted.
“Who knows about what book?” Alyssa questioned, sitting down with the baby, attempting to calm her.
“That fucking bitch knows about the book!”
“Christopher, take a breath and explain to me what’s going on.”
With Toni peaking out from the de facto nursery in the rear of the trailer, Chris launched quickly into his story. Skipping or avoiding details, he explained how a fan gifted him with a booklet of poetry and lyrical ideas back in November, a few weeks before he headed to the studio to work on the new album. Pacing the small trailer, Chris quickly spouted about the young girl appearing at this meet and greet. A pit formed in her stomach as she listened to his words. She knew where the story was heading and did not like it at all.
“The fucking bitch had the gall to ask if I used her stuff in making the album!” he exclaimed.
Shifting the baby to rest against her shoulder, her eyes went to his, “Did you, Chris?”
His mouth dropped open, “How could you—”
“Did you, Chris?” she repeated sternly.
“Lyss, I—”
“Yes or no.”
His shoulders slumped, “Maybe.”
Alyssa sighed, “Where’s the girl?”
“I don’t know. I kicked her out.”
“My god you’re really stupid sometimes, Chris,” Alyssa got up.
“Where are you going?”
“To fix your mistake. Watch the kids,” she instructed before heading out of the trailer, infant still in her arms.
Finding the roadie she knew was last with Chris, she questioned him about the girl’s whereabouts. Pointed to the ramp out of the amphitheater, Alyssa thanked him and headed towards it. Though she had remained staunchly uninvolved in Chris’s career, even when it killed her that he hooked up with Timbaland, this had gotten too far out of hand. She would smooth over things with the girls first, then work on Chris. Clearly he was screaming for help and she hadn’t heard.
Finding Yogi embracing a girl, she presumed this was the one she sought. The baby gurgled against her shoulder, making her pause to kiss the child. Yogi noticed her at this point, their eyes meeting. Nodding to him, Alyssa continued towards the pair.
“Miss?” Alyssa spoke up. “Are you the one who recently spoke with Chris?”
The girl pulled away from Yogi, turning to face Alyssa, “Y-yes.”
Her eyes met the girl’s puffy red eyes. While she felt bad for the girl, warning bells sounded in her head. This was no normal fan, not at all. Instantly she wished her newborn baby was not in her arms, that she had left the child in Chris’s protection. But she quickly hid those fears and smiled at the girl.
“I apologize for my husband’s behavior. It was greatly uncalled for. Our family has been ill lately, stressing him to no end,” Alyssa proclaimed, quickly glancing at Yogi. “How can I make this up to you?”
She sniffled and wiped her nose, “Did he... use it?”
“I don’t know. I wasn’t a part of the songwriting process. Chris tends to lock himself in his room when writing songs,” she responded. “I can say I’ve never seen anything in his studio that wasn’t his.”
“B-but the new songs sound just like my poems,” the girl argued.
“Do you have a copy with you?”
The girl quickly dug a stack of papers out of her large purse, “Here.”
Accepting the folded papers, Alyssa nodded, “I’ll look over this. Do you have some way I can contact you?”
“Really?”
“Of course.”
“Um, yeah,” she dug in her purse and pulled out a pen. “I’ll give you my email and phone number.”
“Great,” Alyssa handed back the paper so the girl could scribble on it.
Eyes glancing over the jotted notes, Alyssa bit her bottom lip. She knew the girl’s name, knew her email. And instantly her previous nerves seemed validated. Perhaps Chris wasn’t so stupid.
“Thank you, Jessica. I’ll be in touch,” she stated, folding the paper again with one hand and tucking it into her pant pocket. “Again I apologize for Chris’s behavior. I hope we can fix things.”
The girl nodded, “Thank you.”
Waiting on the ramp until Yogi returned after escorting the girl away, Alyssa sighed. This was much, much bigger and worse than she thought. This was no regular fan at all. Chris’s actions were still uncalled for, but not as much as she thought before.
“Did Chris really yell at her?” Yogi asked as he joined Alyssa.
Turning to head back to the trailer after another quick glance to ascertain the girl was gone, Alyssa replied, “Maybe. I don’t know.”
“Did he do what she says he did?”
“Again, I don’t know.”
“But something troubles you,” he pointed out.
“Yes,” she admitted, shifting the baby to her other shoulder. “That girl.... Yogi, I think she may be the one.”
Making a face at the baby in hopes of getting a toothless grin, he responded, “The one?”
“One of the ones who has been stalking us,” Alyssa stated.
Yogi halted in his steps, “No shit?”
“No shit.”
With three kids finally sleeping in their beds, Alyssa returned to the hotel suite’s living room. Not a word about the incident had been spoken since she returned to the trailer. But the time had come. He knew it as well as she did, the moment she sat beside him. Nervously he set down the book he hadn’t been reading and looked at his wife. His eyes quickly took in her form. Their daughter was barely two months old and he could tell by looking at his wife. Though she hadn’t lost all of the baby weight, she was still so beautiful to him. A pall of exhaustion hung about her spirit, instantly making him regret the tour, regret fording her to mother his children on the road. But most importantly he felt regret for making her worry about things she shouldn’t be.
“Lyssie,” he muttered, “I’m so sorry about getting you inv—”
“I do not condone your actions at all, Chris,” she interrupted. “However it made me realize a few things.”
“That I’m a jerk and you shouldn’t love me?”
Alyssa snorted, “No. Not at all.”
“Then what?”
“That because of our little girl and my staunch declaration of staying out of your career, you’ve been floundering. I thought after ‘Carry On’ you would find your voice again, but instead you fell into someone else’s vision, recommended by your former brother-in-law who doesn’t know fuckall about this industry and your musical soul,” Alyssa proclaimed. “I left you for the wolves and they came for you.”
He frowned, “Do you really think the Timbaland thing is bad?”
“Yes,” she instantly responded. “You are so much better than... hip hop shit. So much better.”
“But...”
“It doesn’t matter now. You’ll fulfill the obligations of the album,” she said. “And we can talk more about everything later. But we need to talk about tonight.”
“Lyss, she—”
“—is the stalker,” Alyssa interrupted. “Or one of them.”
His eyes widened, “What? How did you...”
“I got her name, phone number, and email. Told her that I would look into her claim,” she stated. “And she’s the one who thinks you’re Jesus.”
“Fuck.”
Alyssa nodded, “Which is also why we can’t just blow this one off. But we have to play it carefully.”
“Baby, what are we going to do?”
Alyssa got up and retrieved the manuscript from the baby’s diaper bag. Returning to the couch she handed the creased paper to her husband. He unfolded it, eyes first going to the scribbled name, email, and phone number. Feeling Alyssa’s eyes on him, he quickly scanned the first page. It was familiar but not necessarily because he had read it before. Flipping through the pages he certainly felt like the words were reminiscent of the new album.
“Have you seen this before?” she asked.
Sighing, he shook his head, “I don’t think so.”
“When does she claim to have given it to you?”
“November.”
Alyssa thought about it briefly, “Chris, you wrote a lot of the songs in September and October.”
His eyes went to hers, “I did?”
She nodded, “Our daughter was conceived in October. Trust me. I know what you were up to around then.”
He flashed her a grin, “So then we’re cl—”
“No. In the morning you’re going to call someone in Seattle to go to the house and search your studio for that manuscript,” she instructed.
“But who could do that?”
“Call Eddie,” she suggested.
“Do you think that will be enough?”
“No. We’re also going to have to talk with our bodyguards considering her... fan status and how to best proceed. In any matter, if the story of your behavior gets out, no matter her mental status, will damage you publicly,” she stated.
“Then we silence her.”
“That will not work.”
“But—”
“It won’t work, Chris.”
Sighing he set down the papers, “I’m sorry, Lyss.”
Her hand reached over and grasped his, “I’m sorry you’ve walked this alone. No more.”
Relaxing for a moment while the children napped, Alyssa sat before her computer. Chris was out somewhere, talking with Timbaland’s packaging designer about ‘Scream.’ Hating the proof they had been sent, Alyssa urged Chris to do something about it. Becoming involved with his career at that point had been trying. He might listen to her at home, but seemingly as soon as they parted others would sway him. She felt as if everything they spoke he was right back in Timbaland’s clutches and she had to remind him of his own integrity. And each time supported her argument with words from his fans; things she found on his website.
Figuring she would need to convince him once more that the cover was horrible once he returned, Alyssa pulled up Chris’s site in her browser. Though she had a log in, she never used it. She knew Chris’s band had logged in and defended each other and Chris before, but never had she felt it necessary herself. That day she had not intended to either. But if she had, Alyssa wouldn’t have been able to: the site’s forum was closed.
Without pause, she picked up the phone and hit Chris’s management’s number. It rang thrice before a perky girl answered the call. Demanding to be patched through at once, Alyssa waited to be connected to Chris’s manager.
“Alyssa, how good to—”
“Why is the forum closed on Chris’s site?” she demanded.
There was a momentary pause, “I don’t know.”
“Bullshit. Why did you shut it down?”
“Alyssa, we—”
“No. Don’t lie to me.”
“That girl was going to claim Chris stole his songs from her,” he blurted out.
Alyssa sighed, “You guys are fucking stupid.”
“But—”
“No. You are. And I shouldn’t have to be the one telling you that nor fixing your fucking mistakes. But I am. Goodbye,” she hung up without waiting for a response.
Drumming her fingers on the table, she quickly racked her brain for a solution. Chris had already changed management, not a move she initially thought wise. Which meant circumnavigating management somehow. She needed to go directly to the fans but without management’s involvement how could she do that? Fan sites.
Alyssa quickly drafted an email to the webmasters of various fan websites. Reading over it thrice she decided it was succinct and professional enough. It might have been better to let Chris sign off on it, but the more she considered that the less she liked it. Chris had made far too many poor decisions of late. His input was not welcome.
With a click of a button, the email shot around the world. Five minutes later Chris entered the house, accompanied by Lily, whom Alyssa was not expecting at all. The older girl happily greeted her stepmother before skipping upstairs to deposit her bag in her room. Chris then approached his wife, leaning down to kiss her.
“Uh oh,” he stated, halting before a kiss. “Something’s wrong.”
“They shut down the forum on your website.”
“Uh, okay,” he crouched beside her. “And that means...?”
Alyssa rolled her eyes, “Don’t you care about the fans any more, Chris?”
“You mean the ones who don’t like what I’m doing now?”
“I don’t like what you’re doing now.”
Chris frowned, “But—”
“No, Chris, you’ve become this corporate whore. At least on the Revolution tour, I still saw the man I love and admire on occasion. But now you’re jumping at any chance to suck Tim’s dick.”
He blinked, “You seriously believe that?”
“You’ve spent more time in LA with Tim than here at home with your family. We moved out of LA years ago because of that fake life, Chris. But now... it’s like you’re addicted to it. And I don’t know why,” she stated.
“Lyssie, is this really about my website?”
“And more,” she admitted. “If I hadn’t been so focused on the baby, I would have slapped you a long time ago. Didn’t you learn anything from... fuck, Chris. You’ve been in this industry for twenty years. You can’t tell me you were clueless.”
“Alyssa, what do you want me to do?”
Pausing in thought for a moment she considered his question, “First you need to show your fans you actually care about them.”
“How?”
“Have a free concert,” she instantly answered.
“Lyss, you know management won’t—”
“Fuck the management. Do this yourself.”
“But—”
“I’ve read your contract. You can if you want.”
“Okay,” he responded carefully. “What else?”
“Address your fans. You, not your PR fucks. Your fans’ websites will happily help,” she stated.
“Okay. And?”
“Cancel all the other shit you’re doing for Tim that has nothing to do with the album. No more fucking red carpet shit, unless it is something like a charity event that you support. Get back to the music and the fuck out of Hollywood,” Alyssa said.
Chris listened to her for a moment, “Babe, I understand what you’re saying but wouldn’t it be worse to pull out of those commitments?”
“No. Pulling out shows you have artistic integrity. Going regardless shows you have no balls and need Tim to blow smoke up your ass and tell you otherwise.”
He smirked, “Really, Lyss?”
“If you don’t do something smart now, you’re going to lose your fans. And I don’t think you can suck enough cock to bring them back.”
Finally standing up, Chris nodded, “Okay. I trust you.
“Good.”
“Oh, and Lyssie?”
“Yes?”
“They can’t change the cover. It’s already been printed. But they’re re-doing the other promotional items,” he stated.
“I’ll believe it when I see it.”
He kissed her forehead, “It will. I’ll go work on that free concert idea. Maybe Ed will help out.”
With the baby strapped to her in a sling, Alyssa hurried around backstage. The show, populated by a crowd of 10,000 of Chris’s fans, some flown to Seattle on Alyssa’s dime for the event, was an hour away from beginning. She had confiscated Chris’s cell phone earlier that day in order to keep his management’s calls from reaching him. Only once she answered, leading to her hanging up on them in anger. So getting a hold of him meant physically tracking him down. Pausing outside the dressing room, Alyssa glanced down at the baby to make certain she still slept. Pleased the child behaved sweetly, she headed into the room.
Her eyes flicked around the room. Though only Chris would take the stage that night, the green room was filled with veritable reminders from where he came. Eddie, Jeff, and Stone of Pearl Jam lingered near a juicer she surely hadn’t approved for the room. Other Seattle scene names hovered about like Jerry Cantrell, Mark Arm, and Krist Novalesic. Intermixed with those names, Chris’s current touring band lounged on couches, chatting and drinking smoothies. Eyes returning to Pearl Jam, Alyssa shook her head. The band had better not expect Pearl Jam treatment on tour.
And yet Chris was not amongst all of the others.
“Has anyone seen my husband?” she asked loudly.
“He took the kids to the bathroom,” Yogi answered.
Thanking the guitarist she left the room to seek her family. Meeting them halfway to the bathrooms, she smiled when Chris smiled at her. In his eyes, not hidden by sunglasses anymore, she saw his soul shining brightly again. In that moment he was back. He was back.
“Chris,” she kissed him quickly, “there’s a few people I want you to meet.”
“Who?”
“Some fans,” Alyssa responded.
“What about the kids?”
Shaking her head, she offered her hand to Nick, “They’ll come too, silly.”
Stopping just outside the VIP room where some of the most volatile – both negatively and positively – fans waited, Chris turned to Alyssa, “You’ll protect me, right?”
She laughed, “No. Stand up for yourself. You’re a man.”
He frowned, “You think this will save me?”
“It’s a step. It’s a step.”
Fandom: Chris Cornell
Characters: Chris, Alyssa, the kids, Yogi, special guest appearances by members of the Seattle Scene
Rating: R (language)
Word Count: 3026
Summary: Someone needs to slap Chris.... or save him.
With a trailer full of children, Alyssa hadn’t leeway to spend the meet and greet seated next to Chris. Normally she did, as much for his support as well as her own curiosity. But not that night. Nick was cranky, likely catching his sister’s cold. And Toni would not leave the baby alone, no matter what Alyssa said. It was a night her maternal role was greater than anything else. Or so she thought.
The door to the trailer suddenly burst open. Though it was dark, way past the children’s bedtime, her husband still wore sunglasses. Yet with even the concealment of his eyes, she knew Chris was filled with an unexplainable rage. He cursed and muttered about some ‘fucking bitch’ outside at the meet and greet, his fuming waking the baby.
“Christopher!” Alyssa snapped.
He looked to her, still wearing the sunglasses, “What?”
Rolling her eyes she scooped up the crying infant from her bassinet, “I don’t know or care what your problem is. I finally got the baby to sleep without Toni bothering her. Your behavior is—”
“She knows about the book,” he interrupted.
“Who knows about what book?” Alyssa questioned, sitting down with the baby, attempting to calm her.
“That fucking bitch knows about the book!”
“Christopher, take a breath and explain to me what’s going on.”
With Toni peaking out from the de facto nursery in the rear of the trailer, Chris launched quickly into his story. Skipping or avoiding details, he explained how a fan gifted him with a booklet of poetry and lyrical ideas back in November, a few weeks before he headed to the studio to work on the new album. Pacing the small trailer, Chris quickly spouted about the young girl appearing at this meet and greet. A pit formed in her stomach as she listened to his words. She knew where the story was heading and did not like it at all.
“The fucking bitch had the gall to ask if I used her stuff in making the album!” he exclaimed.
Shifting the baby to rest against her shoulder, her eyes went to his, “Did you, Chris?”
His mouth dropped open, “How could you—”
“Did you, Chris?” she repeated sternly.
“Lyss, I—”
“Yes or no.”
His shoulders slumped, “Maybe.”
Alyssa sighed, “Where’s the girl?”
“I don’t know. I kicked her out.”
“My god you’re really stupid sometimes, Chris,” Alyssa got up.
“Where are you going?”
“To fix your mistake. Watch the kids,” she instructed before heading out of the trailer, infant still in her arms.
Finding the roadie she knew was last with Chris, she questioned him about the girl’s whereabouts. Pointed to the ramp out of the amphitheater, Alyssa thanked him and headed towards it. Though she had remained staunchly uninvolved in Chris’s career, even when it killed her that he hooked up with Timbaland, this had gotten too far out of hand. She would smooth over things with the girls first, then work on Chris. Clearly he was screaming for help and she hadn’t heard.
Finding Yogi embracing a girl, she presumed this was the one she sought. The baby gurgled against her shoulder, making her pause to kiss the child. Yogi noticed her at this point, their eyes meeting. Nodding to him, Alyssa continued towards the pair.
“Miss?” Alyssa spoke up. “Are you the one who recently spoke with Chris?”
The girl pulled away from Yogi, turning to face Alyssa, “Y-yes.”
Her eyes met the girl’s puffy red eyes. While she felt bad for the girl, warning bells sounded in her head. This was no normal fan, not at all. Instantly she wished her newborn baby was not in her arms, that she had left the child in Chris’s protection. But she quickly hid those fears and smiled at the girl.
“I apologize for my husband’s behavior. It was greatly uncalled for. Our family has been ill lately, stressing him to no end,” Alyssa proclaimed, quickly glancing at Yogi. “How can I make this up to you?”
She sniffled and wiped her nose, “Did he... use it?”
“I don’t know. I wasn’t a part of the songwriting process. Chris tends to lock himself in his room when writing songs,” she responded. “I can say I’ve never seen anything in his studio that wasn’t his.”
“B-but the new songs sound just like my poems,” the girl argued.
“Do you have a copy with you?”
The girl quickly dug a stack of papers out of her large purse, “Here.”
Accepting the folded papers, Alyssa nodded, “I’ll look over this. Do you have some way I can contact you?”
“Really?”
“Of course.”
“Um, yeah,” she dug in her purse and pulled out a pen. “I’ll give you my email and phone number.”
“Great,” Alyssa handed back the paper so the girl could scribble on it.
Eyes glancing over the jotted notes, Alyssa bit her bottom lip. She knew the girl’s name, knew her email. And instantly her previous nerves seemed validated. Perhaps Chris wasn’t so stupid.
“Thank you, Jessica. I’ll be in touch,” she stated, folding the paper again with one hand and tucking it into her pant pocket. “Again I apologize for Chris’s behavior. I hope we can fix things.”
The girl nodded, “Thank you.”
Waiting on the ramp until Yogi returned after escorting the girl away, Alyssa sighed. This was much, much bigger and worse than she thought. This was no regular fan at all. Chris’s actions were still uncalled for, but not as much as she thought before.
“Did Chris really yell at her?” Yogi asked as he joined Alyssa.
Turning to head back to the trailer after another quick glance to ascertain the girl was gone, Alyssa replied, “Maybe. I don’t know.”
“Did he do what she says he did?”
“Again, I don’t know.”
“But something troubles you,” he pointed out.
“Yes,” she admitted, shifting the baby to her other shoulder. “That girl.... Yogi, I think she may be the one.”
Making a face at the baby in hopes of getting a toothless grin, he responded, “The one?”
“One of the ones who has been stalking us,” Alyssa stated.
Yogi halted in his steps, “No shit?”
“No shit.”
With three kids finally sleeping in their beds, Alyssa returned to the hotel suite’s living room. Not a word about the incident had been spoken since she returned to the trailer. But the time had come. He knew it as well as she did, the moment she sat beside him. Nervously he set down the book he hadn’t been reading and looked at his wife. His eyes quickly took in her form. Their daughter was barely two months old and he could tell by looking at his wife. Though she hadn’t lost all of the baby weight, she was still so beautiful to him. A pall of exhaustion hung about her spirit, instantly making him regret the tour, regret fording her to mother his children on the road. But most importantly he felt regret for making her worry about things she shouldn’t be.
“Lyssie,” he muttered, “I’m so sorry about getting you inv—”
“I do not condone your actions at all, Chris,” she interrupted. “However it made me realize a few things.”
“That I’m a jerk and you shouldn’t love me?”
Alyssa snorted, “No. Not at all.”
“Then what?”
“That because of our little girl and my staunch declaration of staying out of your career, you’ve been floundering. I thought after ‘Carry On’ you would find your voice again, but instead you fell into someone else’s vision, recommended by your former brother-in-law who doesn’t know fuckall about this industry and your musical soul,” Alyssa proclaimed. “I left you for the wolves and they came for you.”
He frowned, “Do you really think the Timbaland thing is bad?”
“Yes,” she instantly responded. “You are so much better than... hip hop shit. So much better.”
“But...”
“It doesn’t matter now. You’ll fulfill the obligations of the album,” she said. “And we can talk more about everything later. But we need to talk about tonight.”
“Lyss, she—”
“—is the stalker,” Alyssa interrupted. “Or one of them.”
His eyes widened, “What? How did you...”
“I got her name, phone number, and email. Told her that I would look into her claim,” she stated. “And she’s the one who thinks you’re Jesus.”
“Fuck.”
Alyssa nodded, “Which is also why we can’t just blow this one off. But we have to play it carefully.”
“Baby, what are we going to do?”
Alyssa got up and retrieved the manuscript from the baby’s diaper bag. Returning to the couch she handed the creased paper to her husband. He unfolded it, eyes first going to the scribbled name, email, and phone number. Feeling Alyssa’s eyes on him, he quickly scanned the first page. It was familiar but not necessarily because he had read it before. Flipping through the pages he certainly felt like the words were reminiscent of the new album.
“Have you seen this before?” she asked.
Sighing, he shook his head, “I don’t think so.”
“When does she claim to have given it to you?”
“November.”
Alyssa thought about it briefly, “Chris, you wrote a lot of the songs in September and October.”
His eyes went to hers, “I did?”
She nodded, “Our daughter was conceived in October. Trust me. I know what you were up to around then.”
He flashed her a grin, “So then we’re cl—”
“No. In the morning you’re going to call someone in Seattle to go to the house and search your studio for that manuscript,” she instructed.
“But who could do that?”
“Call Eddie,” she suggested.
“Do you think that will be enough?”
“No. We’re also going to have to talk with our bodyguards considering her... fan status and how to best proceed. In any matter, if the story of your behavior gets out, no matter her mental status, will damage you publicly,” she stated.
“Then we silence her.”
“That will not work.”
“But—”
“It won’t work, Chris.”
Sighing he set down the papers, “I’m sorry, Lyss.”
Her hand reached over and grasped his, “I’m sorry you’ve walked this alone. No more.”
Relaxing for a moment while the children napped, Alyssa sat before her computer. Chris was out somewhere, talking with Timbaland’s packaging designer about ‘Scream.’ Hating the proof they had been sent, Alyssa urged Chris to do something about it. Becoming involved with his career at that point had been trying. He might listen to her at home, but seemingly as soon as they parted others would sway him. She felt as if everything they spoke he was right back in Timbaland’s clutches and she had to remind him of his own integrity. And each time supported her argument with words from his fans; things she found on his website.
Figuring she would need to convince him once more that the cover was horrible once he returned, Alyssa pulled up Chris’s site in her browser. Though she had a log in, she never used it. She knew Chris’s band had logged in and defended each other and Chris before, but never had she felt it necessary herself. That day she had not intended to either. But if she had, Alyssa wouldn’t have been able to: the site’s forum was closed.
Without pause, she picked up the phone and hit Chris’s management’s number. It rang thrice before a perky girl answered the call. Demanding to be patched through at once, Alyssa waited to be connected to Chris’s manager.
“Alyssa, how good to—”
“Why is the forum closed on Chris’s site?” she demanded.
There was a momentary pause, “I don’t know.”
“Bullshit. Why did you shut it down?”
“Alyssa, we—”
“No. Don’t lie to me.”
“That girl was going to claim Chris stole his songs from her,” he blurted out.
Alyssa sighed, “You guys are fucking stupid.”
“But—”
“No. You are. And I shouldn’t have to be the one telling you that nor fixing your fucking mistakes. But I am. Goodbye,” she hung up without waiting for a response.
Drumming her fingers on the table, she quickly racked her brain for a solution. Chris had already changed management, not a move she initially thought wise. Which meant circumnavigating management somehow. She needed to go directly to the fans but without management’s involvement how could she do that? Fan sites.
Alyssa quickly drafted an email to the webmasters of various fan websites. Reading over it thrice she decided it was succinct and professional enough. It might have been better to let Chris sign off on it, but the more she considered that the less she liked it. Chris had made far too many poor decisions of late. His input was not welcome.
With a click of a button, the email shot around the world. Five minutes later Chris entered the house, accompanied by Lily, whom Alyssa was not expecting at all. The older girl happily greeted her stepmother before skipping upstairs to deposit her bag in her room. Chris then approached his wife, leaning down to kiss her.
“Uh oh,” he stated, halting before a kiss. “Something’s wrong.”
“They shut down the forum on your website.”
“Uh, okay,” he crouched beside her. “And that means...?”
Alyssa rolled her eyes, “Don’t you care about the fans any more, Chris?”
“You mean the ones who don’t like what I’m doing now?”
“I don’t like what you’re doing now.”
Chris frowned, “But—”
“No, Chris, you’ve become this corporate whore. At least on the Revolution tour, I still saw the man I love and admire on occasion. But now you’re jumping at any chance to suck Tim’s dick.”
He blinked, “You seriously believe that?”
“You’ve spent more time in LA with Tim than here at home with your family. We moved out of LA years ago because of that fake life, Chris. But now... it’s like you’re addicted to it. And I don’t know why,” she stated.
“Lyssie, is this really about my website?”
“And more,” she admitted. “If I hadn’t been so focused on the baby, I would have slapped you a long time ago. Didn’t you learn anything from... fuck, Chris. You’ve been in this industry for twenty years. You can’t tell me you were clueless.”
“Alyssa, what do you want me to do?”
Pausing in thought for a moment she considered his question, “First you need to show your fans you actually care about them.”
“How?”
“Have a free concert,” she instantly answered.
“Lyss, you know management won’t—”
“Fuck the management. Do this yourself.”
“But—”
“I’ve read your contract. You can if you want.”
“Okay,” he responded carefully. “What else?”
“Address your fans. You, not your PR fucks. Your fans’ websites will happily help,” she stated.
“Okay. And?”
“Cancel all the other shit you’re doing for Tim that has nothing to do with the album. No more fucking red carpet shit, unless it is something like a charity event that you support. Get back to the music and the fuck out of Hollywood,” Alyssa said.
Chris listened to her for a moment, “Babe, I understand what you’re saying but wouldn’t it be worse to pull out of those commitments?”
“No. Pulling out shows you have artistic integrity. Going regardless shows you have no balls and need Tim to blow smoke up your ass and tell you otherwise.”
He smirked, “Really, Lyss?”
“If you don’t do something smart now, you’re going to lose your fans. And I don’t think you can suck enough cock to bring them back.”
Finally standing up, Chris nodded, “Okay. I trust you.
“Good.”
“Oh, and Lyssie?”
“Yes?”
“They can’t change the cover. It’s already been printed. But they’re re-doing the other promotional items,” he stated.
“I’ll believe it when I see it.”
He kissed her forehead, “It will. I’ll go work on that free concert idea. Maybe Ed will help out.”
With the baby strapped to her in a sling, Alyssa hurried around backstage. The show, populated by a crowd of 10,000 of Chris’s fans, some flown to Seattle on Alyssa’s dime for the event, was an hour away from beginning. She had confiscated Chris’s cell phone earlier that day in order to keep his management’s calls from reaching him. Only once she answered, leading to her hanging up on them in anger. So getting a hold of him meant physically tracking him down. Pausing outside the dressing room, Alyssa glanced down at the baby to make certain she still slept. Pleased the child behaved sweetly, she headed into the room.
Her eyes flicked around the room. Though only Chris would take the stage that night, the green room was filled with veritable reminders from where he came. Eddie, Jeff, and Stone of Pearl Jam lingered near a juicer she surely hadn’t approved for the room. Other Seattle scene names hovered about like Jerry Cantrell, Mark Arm, and Krist Novalesic. Intermixed with those names, Chris’s current touring band lounged on couches, chatting and drinking smoothies. Eyes returning to Pearl Jam, Alyssa shook her head. The band had better not expect Pearl Jam treatment on tour.
And yet Chris was not amongst all of the others.
“Has anyone seen my husband?” she asked loudly.
“He took the kids to the bathroom,” Yogi answered.
Thanking the guitarist she left the room to seek her family. Meeting them halfway to the bathrooms, she smiled when Chris smiled at her. In his eyes, not hidden by sunglasses anymore, she saw his soul shining brightly again. In that moment he was back. He was back.
“Chris,” she kissed him quickly, “there’s a few people I want you to meet.”
“Who?”
“Some fans,” Alyssa responded.
“What about the kids?”
Shaking her head, she offered her hand to Nick, “They’ll come too, silly.”
Stopping just outside the VIP room where some of the most volatile – both negatively and positively – fans waited, Chris turned to Alyssa, “You’ll protect me, right?”
She laughed, “No. Stand up for yourself. You’re a man.”
He frowned, “You think this will save me?”
“It’s a step. It’s a step.”
In : Random
Tags: random 2008
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