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Filthy Dirty Laundry Vol. 4 Page 5
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Kendall gives a little laugh. “Who the fuck cares about high school? Besides, if I wanted to fuck with you now, I'd do a hell of a lot worse than I did as some little kid.”
“Look, Kendall,” I say, “I don't like this situation any more than you do. But I love my mom and you love your dad, so can't we just try to be happy for them and leave our personal shit out of it? Not to mention, it sounds like your dad's going to take away your precious inheritance if you don't shape up. And I'm sure you don't want that.”
Kendall's face is red with fury, but she says nothing. Instead she shrugs. “Since this story matters to me, I'll forget your pathetic little veiled threat for now. And act cool when you're with me, okay? Or at least try. I'm not sure I could spare the embarrassment of people knowing you're my new stepsister.”
She pulls up her car alongside the graffiti-stained walls of a nightclub.
“Come on, bitch,” Kendall grabs me and yanks me by the arm, pulling me through the doors and down a steep flight of steps.
We're in a night-club – or at least, what will turn into a nightclub in a few hours. Right now, there are two boys sitting at a bar. I recognize one of them as Heath Fellows: tall, good-looking and skinny in a gorgeous-waifish sort of way, with bleach-blonde spiky hair, huge round earrings in both ears, and blue glassy eyes made bigger by the dark eyeliner he wears.
His companion is no less drop-dead gorgeous. Tall, with jet-black hair and multiple ear piercings, and tattoos with Chinese characters running up and down his arms.
Before I can say anything, Kendall pounces. She rushes in and practically jumps on the guy with the black hair, wrapping her legs around his waist as though she plans to hump him and have sex with him right then and there. She's kissing him like she wants to eat his face, I think – it's simultaneously hot and incredibly gross. I half-wonder if they're going to have sex right in the open like that.
Then the guy pulls back.
“Whoa, whoa, Kendall. Stop. Stop. What did I tell you? Not in public?”
“But Jeremy...” Kendall's voice is a low whine like a puppy dog's. “I missed you so much. It's been weeks. You haven't been answering my calls or texts...”
So that's Jeremy Light in the flesh. Kendall's FWBs. Great.
“Come on, baby,” Jeremy says awkwardly. “You know we're not like that. I've been busy. Maybe I'll text you later tonight if I'm free...and horny...” he winks.
“I haven't seen you outside your apartment in months...” Kendall says.
“Jeez,” Jeremy practically shoves her out of the way. I almost feel sorry for her. “Every since you got clean you've turned into such a bore. What's next, you're gonna want a promise ring or something?” He gives a profoundly asshole-ish laugh. “What have we here?” Shit, I think. He's seen me. He starts walking towards me, and immediately Kendall's shooting daggers at me with her eyes. Like I could be interested in this asshat.
“She's off-limits, Jeremy,” Kendall says in a harsh, cold voice. “She's my stepsister.”
“Sisters, huh?” He brushes up against me like a cat looking for a place to pee. “You look nothing at all like Kendall.”
“Stepsisters,” Kendall says again.
Jesus, I think. These assholes are the kind of guys girls take off their shirts for, girls throw themselves at, rockers at the top of their game and the top of the world. Some people have all the luck. But I'm appalled at how rude Jeremy's being to Kendall, and I have no interest in playing this sick little power game.
“Yeah, we're here looking for an old classmate,” I say. “Topeka…”
“Topeka?” Heath looks up from his drink. “You know something about Topeka?”
“Actually,” I say, “I was hoping you or your chivalrous boy here could tell me...”
Heath sighs. He looks like shit, too. Strung out, drunk, exhausted, I don't know. “I dunno...” he says. “Haven't seen her for like a week now...”
Heath looks like he's been stoned for at least that long. Which means I could maybe rule him out in Topeka's disappearance. Then again, you never know.
“You two were close, huh? Dating?”
“Uh huh.”
“So you must know where she liked to hang out?”
“On his cock!” Jeremy laughs.
Helpful, Jeremy.
Heath doesn't even hear Jeremy. “I wish I knew...” he said. “but I don't.”
“Just find the girl already,” Jeremy sighs. “Ever since she went missing Heath's been like this. We've hardly been able to rehearse.”
“How was she the last time you saw her?”
“I told you, it was a few days ago. She seemed kinda upset about her record contract. Apparently Topeka was getting passed over at her favorite venue in favor of these new guys, the Never Knights. Look, Topeka, she's a great girl, but she doesn't love sharing the limelight. Who does? She doesn't even like sharing with me.”
“She deserves her own stage,” Kendall says sharply. “She's great and you know it, and you assholes overpower her voice with your loud guitars...”
“It's not our fault she's short,” Jeremy groans. “Like a fucking doll or something. She should wear heels...”
“Sidney...” Kendall groans. “I don't feel so good”
I look over at the bar. Kendall's taken about five shots in the time it took me to talk to the guys.
“Are you okay?”
“Of course not, you idiot, or I wouldn't be talking to you...” She staggers against the wall.
“You're not supposed to be drinking, Kendall....”
“He wouldn't even look at me,” Kendall slurs. “After months! Just acting like I don't exist. After all that time dating – treats me like a whore!” Tears are streaming down her face.
Jeez. I'm on Team Kendall for this one.
I take Kendall's hand.
“Come on. These assholes don't know a thing anyway.” I say it loud enough for them to hear. “Nice to meet you gentlemen. Thanks for your help.”
I'm grossed out by the whole encounter. These are supposed to be the most desirable guys in music, but they're disgusting: they smell like booze and sex and sweat and drugs. I don't see what Kendall sees in them.
I leave my business card in front of Heath. He's nice, at least, in a total stoned kind of mess way.
“Let me know if you guys think of something,” I say.
“Not bad.” Jeremy looks me up and down as he grabs the card from Heath. “Sidney Stone.” He smiles, and I see a flash of what I assume is handsomeness. Pity the asshole kind of gets in the way. “Are you like your stepsister?”
“I'm nothing like her,” I say, as I walk off.
“Good...” He's eye-fucking me like there's no tomorrow.
“Count yourself lucky there! See ya!”
“Let's go...” I grab Kendall. “Those guys were useless.” What a jerk, I think. The way Jeremy treated Kendall – the way he treated me like a piece of meat.
But I wonder...
Maybe Jeremy knows more about Topeka's disappearance than he pretends.
Chapter 9
I don't know whether to feel angry or sorry for Kendall. She's slurring her words, falling over in her too-high heels she could hardly walk in sober, retching every five steps. On the one hand, I'm furious. How could she jeopardize our mission like this? We had an assignment – sure, it wasn't going great, but that's no excuse to down five shots in the middle of our first interview! On the other hand, I'm sorry for her. Whatever the hell Philip thinks he's doing by giving Kendall this “chance”, it's not working. Kendall is getting sicker than ever and the toll this job is clearly on her mental health is only hurting her more. I don't understand why Philip thinks this has any shot in hell of helping her whatsoever. The girl needs a doctor, a whole army of shrinks, not a “last chance.”
Still, I'm not going to let her kill herself on this particular night out.
“Come on, Kendall,” I roll my eyes and grab for her car keys. “Time to go home.”
“WHAT?�
�� she's shouting way too loud. People are starting to stare. “I'm not going to let you drive my Ferrari – what the fuck is wrong with you?”
It's easy to overpower her. She's drunk and sloppy and completely unfocused. Finally I'm able to grab the keys out of her hand. “Come on, Kendall,” I say. “Neither of us wants to die tonight and you’re in no condition to drive.”
Kendall doesn't answer me. She looks grey and green in equal measure as she slumps over the passenger seat.
“Even if I have to fight you for the keys...” I sigh as I get into the driver's seat. Driving the car is a hellish experience; I have hardly any idea what I'm doing, and I jerk the car more than a few times – wondering how the hell I'd be able to afford any damages on this diamond of a car – before I'm able to get just enough of the hang of it to drive back to my apartment. The last place I want Kendall to be is in my own home, but I don't have the directions for anywhere else and there's no way a hotel would take her in this condition.
“Okay, Kendall!” I carry her up the stairs to my walk-up and deposit her in my own tiny single bed.
She staggers forward, looking around, taking in my plain walls and barely-furnished room, all mold and mildew and cracked paint.
“Christ,” she exclaims. “What a dump.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Would you prefer the street? I'm not sure how cozy that's going to be, either?”
She says nothing.
“A thank you would be nice,” I say. I'm getting exasperated. “For not leaving your sorry ass in that hellhole of a nightclub after you bombed our entire interview. What the hell do you think you're playing at? You've had every opportunity in the world handed to you, Kendall, and you're just throwing them all away. How would you like to have fended for your own in that sick nightclub with the creeps there...”
“Jeremy would have taken care of me,” Kendall murmurs sadly. “He loves me. He told me so a hundred times. He always used to take care of me...”
“The only thing Jeremy sounds like he took care of was his own sorry shriveled cock,” I say. Harsh, but true.
“Now he looks at me like he can't stand me.”
“He's a jerk,” I say. “Being awful to you like that.”
“We're a couple! I mean, we were. He knows it. I did everything for him. I helped him and Heath get off the ground. Introduced them to the right people, made sure they were on the guest list at the right parties. I did everything he asked me to do and more. And it was more than just sex. I thought he loved me.” Tears are pouring down her cheeks, smearing her mascara. “I just wanted him to...” She takes out a flask from her purse and takes a nice long swing before I can stop her. Then, before she can finish her sentence, she passes out.
I check to make sure that she's okay and not about to throw up. Then I curl up on a pile of my dirty laundry to sleep: overlooking her.
Great, I think. Just how I wanted to spend the first day of my new assignment.
I don't want to go to sleep, in case Kendall starts to throw up and needs me to make sure she doesn't choke on her own vomit, so instead I take out my laptop and start to work. I read all the tabloids I can find about Heath, Topeka, Jeremy Light, and the band. Jeremy and Heath, apparently, had been working on the Lightfellows since they were kids – and now they're finally getting recognition. I wonder how much Kendall had to do with them going up to the Top 5 on the Billboard Charts.
It's not hard to find a lot of tabloid gossip on Topeka, either. Child star, singer, failed actress, successful celebutante, sex tape star, rehab graduate – every single stereotype and more you have about child actors, she fits them all. But lately the rumors have dried up. Her relationship for Heath, off and on though it was, looked like it was giving her some measure of stability. She'd even dedicated her last album to Heath. It had reached #1 in the charts.
But something about Jeremy still perturbs me. I feel like he knows something he's not telling me. I tell myself that I'll ask Kendall, when she finally wakes up.
Early in the morning my stomach growls. I decide to order pizza from the local 24/7 dump. I can't even tell what meal I'm on anymore.
Hey blondie. A text crops up on my phone. How about meeting me for lunch?
I don't recognize the number.
I type back: sorry who is this?
The guy you dissed back at Obsidian.
Jeremy? What does he want from me?
OK. What is it?
You want to talk. I want to talk. Isn't that convenient? Meet me for food and conversation at Rusty's Shack in the Valley. Good grub.
So, it looks like Jeremy has something to tell me after all. I go over to Kendall to try to force her awake.
Fine. I text back.
PS: Don't bring Kendall.
I don't like Kardashians, loudmouths, or bitches. Your stepsister is two of those three things and wishes she were the third. Worst possible scenario.
That's unnecessarily harsh, I type.
If you knew what I knew, you'd be harsh too.
Come alone or you won't get any story at all.
I consider. I don't want to screw over Kendall, but the most important thing is getting this story.
I make my decision. I leave Kiley a note telling her to look after Kendall when she wakes up, and another for Kendall explaining that I've gone to chase a lead and that she can take over when she's back.
Text me when you need me, I say. But by the looks of her she won't be awake in a long time.
Chapter 10
I drive Kendall's car to the place Jeremy suggested. Rusty's Shack. Not the kind of place you'd expect a rocker to dine. It's a cute enough place – a New England-themed seafood restaurant with wooden walls and red and white checkered tablecloths. A bit silly, I think, given that there's no ocean or sea for miles, but clearly Jeremy likes his places a little divey. Either that or he wants us to meet somewhere where we won't be seen. When I run into him, I see that he's wearing a black leather jacket and sunglasses and decide that it's the latter. Here in this place, I take it, paparazzi's aren't exactly ubiquitous. Which is a good thing, because Jeremy's “incognito” act isn't fooling anybody.
“Interesting choice of a place to meet,” I say to Jeremy as I approach. In this natural sunlight he looks a lot less sick and washed-up than he did at the bar last night. “It's a bit of a ways off from me – but I figure you chose this place for a reason.”
“Yeah,” says Jeremy with a wicked smile. “Great clam chowder. Was craving it. Figured you'd like it too.”
“Maybe,” I say. “I'll give it a shot.”
The waitress comes over and takes our orders without batting an eye.
“So you come here often? Or do people here just not recognize you?”
“I grew up here,” said Jeremy. “Me and my boys, every week or more. My uncle owns this place.”
“A valley boy,” I say.
“San Gabriel, mind,” he says. “Not San Fernando.” He gives a little laugh. “And you, missy? I detect a little Valley in you. Where did you go to high school?”
“Um...” This part's always uncomfortable. “Beverley Hills.”
He looks shocked. “Really? With Kendall and all those fakey-fakey plastic materialistic bitches out there in La La Land.”
“You must not mind fakey,” I said, “if you're willing to have sex with her.”
“Ouch,” he said. “I guess you take it personally, huh, a Beverly Hills girl like yourself.”
“I just think you shouldn't be a hypocrite,” I say. “Besides, the only reason I could afford to go to school in Beverly Hills is because of my stepfather. He helped out, helped raise me. Me and my mom – we hardly had a dime, although she liked to play keeping up with the Joneses...”
I stop myself. I don't like Jeremy, I remind myself, and my personal life is none of his business. Still I can't help but notice how much more normal and down-to-earth he seems here than in the club. Like someone I'd have grown up with.
The waitress brings over a f
east: clam chowder with a fine house salad, special lemonade ice tea, and some crispy fried calamari for Jeremy.
“Mmm...” Jeremy stuffs some into his mouth. “It's good. Wanna try?”
“I'm fine.”
“What, are you on some diet or something?”
“No,” I say. “I'm just...”
He hands me a piece and I eat it. I have to admit, it's pretty good.
“Told ya,” says Jeremy, smiling and digging into his food. He doesn't seem like such a terrible person, I think. Or at least, he's your garden variety asshole, not a monster like he was last night.
“You used to bring Kendall here?”
Jeremy takes a swig of his drink to wash down his crispy-fried mouthful of calamari. “Nah, she'd hate this place. It'd be beneath her.”
“You sure know a lot about Kendall's preferences for someone who makes a big deal about how casual it was.”
“Look, I don't know what you want me to say. We had a hookup relationship, FWBs, we both knew the rules. We enjoyed fucking each other and I was open and honest with her about all that I could offer her. Sex, booze, drugs. That was our thing. Now she's retro actively decided that we were “dating?” I mean, come on...”
“But you told her you loved her,” I say. “That doesn't sound like a FWB to me.”
“Look, if I said anything – which I'm not saying I did – I was probably stoned out of my mind. And when a girl's sucking your dick nice and hard and slow, you'll say fucking anything. Maybe I said some crazy shit there.”
“Charming,” I say.
“You don't like me?”
“No,” I say. “I don't. I don't like how you treat women. But let's move on. You and Kendall, you' were never dating, fine fine.”
“Look – in this industry – everyone keeps it casual It's how we do things here. It's how we roll. Girls, sex, it's never monogamous.”
“How about Topeka?”
At the sound of her name, Jeremy's face freezes. “Well that was different,” he said. “She wasn't just a girl. She was one of the boys. A cool girl, you know. Not just some hookup.”