15: Slipping Supports
The sun ascended over the cityscape, framing
a modest hotel. Its rays swept across the side of the building and illuminated a
set of beige blinds. Beams crept beneath them.
On the other side,
hardwood floors spanned beneath a bed. Suitcases and clothes strewn across its
floral sheets, a crumpled sports jacket dangled on its edge, threatening to slip
away. A figure sat cross-legged on the floor, huddled by an end table. His
elbows rested on his knees, and he draped his torso over his legs. With one
hand, he propped up his head; with the other, he clutched a powder blue
telephone receiver.
"Hello?" a gruff voice came over the receiver. The
figure stiffened, his eyes widened.
"Dad?" he spoke. Annunciating each
syllable clearly, he added, "Hi, it's Anthony."
A deep sigh hissed in
Anthony's ear. He furrowed his brows and closed his eyes. "What the hell do YOU
want?"
Anthony opened his eyes. He bit his lower lip, then released it to
say, "I need help..."
"Then why not go to Lou?" The words shot through
the earpiece and stung Anthony's brain. He cringed. "I though HE's your f***ing
father now!"
"No!" Anthony protested. "Dad, listen! Something's wrong
here..."
"I'll tell you what's wrong! Selling your soul to Lou Pearlman!
Worse than selling your soul to the devil himself! He's your pimp now, boy! And
you're a disgrace!"
Tears flooded Anthony's eyes. He pinched the bridge
of his nose and wagged his head. "I'm trying to get away from him."
"I'll
believe it when I see it!" Blackie's voice hollered. CLICK!
Anthony hung
his head. He clattered and clanged the receiver into its cradle. The tears in
his eyes spilled down his cheeks, pattering on the floor space in front of his
legs. Tiny puddles formed. He hung an arm across his shins. Tracing a line
through the puddles with his fingers, he connected them.
He crab-walked
across the hardwood floor, pulling himself along with his hands. His bottom
dragged behind his outstretched palms, his stockinged feet swishing last. His
fingers eventually brushed against the cottony hem of a comforter. He climbed
backwards into the bed and flopped onto the scattered clothing. His left foot
landed inside one suitcase; his head smacked against another. He groaned. With a
fluid swoop of the arm, the suitcase by his head lunged into a wall and slumped
to the floor. Anthony sighed and closed his eyes.
Sunshine seeping into
the room intensified. He was no longer in the dark. But he was alone, alone in a
strange world. He drew his hands to his face, his fingers sensing the tensioned
temples beneath them.
"How the f*** do I get out of this mess?" he
muttered. He dug his heels into the mattress. His back stiffened. And his palms
dampened.
CHIRP!
A bold of shock shot through his frame, and he
dangled a hand off the side of the bed.
CHIRP!
His fingers wrapped
around a black Nokia cell phone. His thumb hit the button at the top, left hand
corner as he raised the phone to his ear.
BEEP!
"Hello?" Anthony
mumbled.
"Ant?" a sweet, feminine voice breezed through the phone lines.
"Hi, Brit," he breathed, then froze. And image of Britney with Justin
Timberlake flashed into his head, and he knew it to be true. Fresh tears filled
his eyes as he heaved a sigh.
"How are you holding up,
honey?"
Anthony swallowed hard. "I'm okay," he lied.
He heard her
sigh. "I... I just can't believe he's gone."
"Me neither, baby." The term
of endearment slipped out. Anthony's heart fluttered about, and he held a hand
to his chest. Clenching shut his eyes, he asked, "Where are you right
now?"
Britney's breath preceded her speech. "I just got back from
touring, actually. I was wondering if you'd be wanting to go out
tonight."
The muscles surrounding Anthony's eyes relaxed, and he nodded.
"That's good, 'cause I'm really wanting to talk with you."
"Um...," her
voice replied. "That might be tough. I was thinking of going to a
concert."
"Yeah?" His eyes fluttered open.
"But we don't have to
go!" she rushed on. "I mean, not if you don't feel up to it. It just seemed like
something you'd like and a good way to get away from everything that's been
going on for a while."
Reflexively, his lips swooped into a smile.
"That's a beautiful idea. What's the concert?"
"It's this guitarist. He's
not really well known, but he was with the band Jane's
Addiction..."
Anthony's eyes bulged in their sockets, and he bolted
upright in bed.
"You like Jane's Addiction, right?" Britney
asked.
While nodding profusely, Anthony realized that his girlfriend
couldn't see him. "Yeah," he rasped, then cleared his throat. "Are you talking
about Dave Navarro?"
"Yeah!" her voice bounced. "Are you familiar with
his solo work? Surely you've heard his single on the radio."
"Yeah." He
ran his fingers through his moppy mane and grabbed a fistful of hair. "I've got
his album... I think."
Pause.
"Okay." He heard her tentatively
reply. "Well yesterday I was talking with Carmen Elektra... did you know she and
Dave Navarro are engaged?"
Anthony scratched his head. "I... don't...
know."
"They are. Carmen and I got talking. I told her how I was flying
out here, and she said he's playing here tonight. She said he'd love for us to
hang around backstage with him. We can watch the show from there too. So are you
interested?"
Rubbing the underside of his chin, Anthony exclaimed, "Yeah,
sounds great!"
"I can't wait to see you, Ant!" Britney's words gushed
through the lines. "I've missed you SO much! You know that I love you, honey,
right?"
"I love you too, baby," Anthony smiled, nestling the Nokia to his
ear.
"I hate to say this, but I have to go for now. I'm due over at this
radio station." Britney's lips smacked. "I'll pick you up at six o'clock,
okay?"
"Sure thing, sweets!" Anthony replied. "Can't wait 'til
then!"
"I love you!"
"Bet I love you more!"
"No," the
retort was accompanied by a giggle. "That's impossible."
Anthony grinned.
"No, I believe that it IS possible, and that's the way it is."
More
giggling. "See you later, Anthony!"
He hit the power button. BEEP! Then
flung the phone bearing hand over the side of the bed. He opened his fingers,
and the Nokia clunked to the floor. He sighed. With a goofy smile plastered
across his lips, he closed his eyes. A soft, gentle face played across his mind,
deep brown eyes framed by dark, thick lashes. Full, rosy lips curved upward,
unveiling gleaming perfect teeth. Anthony's smile broadened. Then waned as a
plump cheeked boy with tight curly hair appeared beside the girl's image.
Anthony grunted. What the hell did Justin Timberlake have to do with
Britney?