The Freshmen - 50. Chapter 50

October 22, 2004

In the air over New York

Will

I had to admit that this jet copter was pretty cool. It was like the one I’d taken to Bristol, Connecticut, when we’d gone up to see Carullo. I relaxed into the soft leather chair while I typed away on my laptop. The phone rang, with the pilot alerting me that we’d be landing in 20 minutes, so I put my stuff away, grabbed a Pepsi from the fridge and gazed out as New York came into view. I’d left Boston, where it was around 50 degrees with light drizzle, to come down here where it was about the same temperature, only it was sunny.

Things at the suite had gotten weirder. It was like Thor was completely obsessed with Fab, and was constantly looking for him if he wasn’t around. He’d come into our room and say ‘hi’, trying to seem like he was just being friendly when it was obvious that he was looking for Fab. He’d then vanish for another hour before he’d check in again. I hadn’t had a chance to talk to Fab about it because he’d been gone most of the week, probably trying to escape from Thor’s clingy behavior. He hadn’t slept in our room since Tuesday. Then on Wednesday, when Fab wasn’t around, Thor had hit on me, but I’d politely turned him down. There was no way I was risking having him chase me around like he was chasing Fab. I’d assumed that he’d be cool with it, that he’d respect that I had the right to say ‘no’, but that evidently wasn’t the case. Instead, he gave me a really dirty look and, from that point forward, he was civil to me and nothing more. The upside to that was that he didn’t come by as much to check for Fab. On Thursday I’d gotten home and locked my door, all but hiding so I could do my homework in peace. I’d popped my headphones in and if he’d tried to knock, I didn’t hear him. Scotty and Niko knew that if they needed to talk to me they could text me, and so did Fab.

The jet copter banked sideways as it slid into its berth, and while the rotors were slowing, I paid the bill. When they stopped, I was finally able to hop out of the aircraft to find Travis there waiting for me, standing in front of Jeremy’s Maybach. “Welcome to New York!” he said.

“That was an easy trip,” I responded, grinning because I was so happy to see him. They put my bag into the car, then we were off. Before I could even talk to him his lips were on mine, and the bond between us was as strong as ever.

He finally broke off our lip meld and got task-oriented. “When we get back to the condo, Jacinta is going to make sure your clothes aren’t wrinkled then we’re going to feed you.”

“I’m totally on board with that,” I said.

“We have some time to ourselves,” he said with a leer, “then we have to get ready to go to this big soiree that Jeremy is dying to attend.”

“Soiree?” I asked, chuckling at him.

“He is so nervous he’s about to climb the walls,” Travis said, shaking his head.

“Why is he having kittens about this?” I asked, even as I felt a sense of dread forming deep in my psyche. Jeremy would be super stressed, and in situations like that, he was most likely to melt down.

“This will be the first thing he’s been to since he got out of the hospital,” Travis explained.

“Are you telling me we’re going to Jeremy’s debutante ball?” I asked, then we both laughed uproariously.

“That’s what I’m telling you,” he said.

“We’ll see if he can get through tonight without completely losing it,” I said. “Regardless, I have zero patience for his bullshit.” He looked at me as if he were going to whine and tell me to cut Jeremy some slack, but when his eyes met mine he gave up on that.

“I’m sure he’ll be on his best behavior,” Travis said. I didn’t think he would be. I was convinced he’d completely piss all of us off by the end of this party, but I kept my thoughts to myself.

“We’ve been getting together every night to watch Sunset Valley,” I told him. “Dude, you are incredible!”

“Thanks,” he said, and looked down modestly. “I have an interview with the Soap Opera Digest next week.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at that. “Is that like the Times?”

“Almost,” he said, joking with me.

“I’m really proud of you,” I said.

“They want to take some steamy pictures of me,” he said. I raised an eyebrow at that.

“Just how steamy are these pictures going to be?” I asked, desperately trying to avoid laughing my ass off.

“They want me to do a surfer pose,” he grimaced.

“So that means you’ll be posing on top of fake sand, with a fake beach in the background, while holding your board upright,” I concluded. “You’ll be wearing board shorts and no shirt, and the shorts will be positioned low enough that the top part of your pubes will be showing.”

“Fuck you,” he said. “How did you know that?” I gave into the urge and laughed my ass off.

“Dude, I want copies,” I said. “I’m buying out that issue.”

“I’m supposed to go out to California next weekend to meet with the Palisades people, and they want to do a similar shoot, only they actually want me to surf,” he said.

“That’s a nice side benefit,” I said jealously.

“They want me to hit the water without a wetsuit,” he said. “In October.”

“Dude, the water is fucking cold,” I objected. “If you agree to that, make sure you don’t stay out there too long.”

“I’m trying to convince them I look even sexier in my wetsuit, so we’ll see how that goes,” he said. He seemed a little deflated.

“Are you okay with this?” I asked.

“Not much I can do about it if I’m not,” he said, being grouchy. “Kind of comes with the turf.”

“Travis, you are amazingly handsome,” I said lovingly. “The studios are definitely going to want to cash in on that. You should be proud of how hot you are.”

“Right,” he said skeptically. The car pulled up in front of the familiar condo and I suddenly saw an image of my mother in my head. I had to pause to make my mind focus on the here and now, and not on that day some three years ago. Travis rolled my bag along while I carried my backpack, negating the need for the doorman to help us out.

We got off the elevator to find Jeremy and Jacinta waiting outside the condo to greet us. “Welcome,” Jeremy said to me smoothly. “I’m glad you could make it.”

“Thanks,” I said cautiously. “Sounds like it will be fun.” We didn’t hug or shake hands; we just greeted each other a bit coldly, then I moved on to give Jacinta a hug, switching to Spanish.

“You’re sleeping in my room,” Travis said, interrupting my conversation with Jacinta.

“Duh,” I joked. I left my bag in the entry and followed him back to the guest room Jeremy had allotted him.

“He put me back here because it’s the quietest room,” he said.

“That was thoughtful,” I said, then closed and locked the door. We didn’t have much time, so we made love quickly, then went out to find Jeremy sitting in the great room.

“Lunch is ready,” he said, trying to be pleasant. I could sense how nervous he was, even with his meds. “We were waiting until you were ready.”

“I appreciate that,” I replied. My tone was one of guarded politeness, while his consisted of anxiety with the slightest dusting of cheer. He led us into the dining room; we sat at the table, and we said nothing. The silence got uncomfortable, so I tried to break it up. “What event are we going to tonight?”

“It’s an art exhibition called Terminal 5,” Jeremy said. “They are using the old terminal building at JFK, the one designed by Eero Saarinen, to showcase several artists.” He was so prim and precise he could have been Grand.

“That sounds kind of cool,” I said.

“They’re supposed to have all kinds of exhibits,” he continued in his sterile way. “Everything from paintings and sculpture to films and music.”

“So is it a show, a dinner, or what?” I asked.

“There’s a dinner at 6:30 that is scheduled to last for 90 minutes, then guests will be released to go view the art,” he said. It was like he was quoting from a brochure.

“Why are you going?” I asked. “Doesn’t seem like it’s related to the fashion world.”

“It’s not related at all, but it is a big art event, so many people in the industry will be there,” he said, then relaxed briefly. “Bellona is going to be there, so I am expected to show up as well.”

“It’s like you’re her bitch,” I joked.

“I actually think of myself as her serf,” he said, making us laugh. “Since I have been commanded to show up, I decided to torture the rest of you as well.”

“I will go and be tortured,” I said in a friendly way, and got a smile from him. After we ate, Travis and I escaped back to his room where we could nap and fuck. We were getting ready when I studied Travis’s appearance. “That’s a pretty cool tux.”

“This one is Gucci. Jeremy helped me pick it out,” he said. “Yours is kick-ass. It’s like a modern take on a dinner jacket.”

“Very perceptive,” I said. “Patrick Christian.”

“Oh,” he said, sounding annoyed.

“Dude, after the makeover he gave us, you cannot be mad at him,” I said firmly.

“You’re right,” he said. “I think it’s just that he reminds me of how badly I fucked up that weekend.” That had been incredibly hard on me. He was supposed to come to New York with me, but Zach had made him cancel, and I’d dealt with grueling emotional anguish. He’d finally realized that and he’d come to New York anyway.

“You did what you had to do. You were cornered and trapped,” I said to him as I put my hands on his neck and pulled him in for a loving kiss. “And while it was painful, it also made me realize how much I love you.’

“You’re such a romantic,” he said, giving me shit when he was way worse than me.

Kris had just come home so I didn’t really get to greet him until we got into the car. “Thanks for making the trip down here,” he said in his clipped way.

“Thanks for the invite,” I countered. Our conversation started out in a really stunted way, but then warmed up pretty fast, so it ended up being a nice ride to JFK.

The old terminal was cool. It had that dilapidated look of a building that hadn’t been used in a long time, but that was offset by the dining tables decked out in porcelain, crystal, and fine linens. Beyond the dining area we could spot the art exhibits, just begging to be seen. While the tables were fancy, the food was mediocre and the conversation was rather boring. The whole event picked up after we ate, because then we got to check out the art, and it was really amazing. “Some of this shit is really good,” Travis said.

“You’re such an art connoisseur,” I said, taunting him.

“I have to go to the toilet. I’ll be back,” JJ said to Kris, then walked off to go to the bathroom. I was watching him with my peripheral vision as he walked up to a set of doors that most definitely did not look like they led to a bathroom. He pushed the door open, and an alarm began sounding loudly, and red lights burst out above it. Jeremy looked back at us and I could see how absolutely horrified he was, then as the cameras flashed in his face, his expression got even worse.

“Fuck,” Kris said. He and Travis just stood there, staring at Jeremy, probably paralyzed with fear about how badly he would handle this. I rolled my eyes in frustration with them, then took the initiative and walked over to where he was standing. At first he’d been all alone, just him and the door, but now he was almost surrounded by a bunch of airport security people. Most of the people here were snickering at his misfortune. I’d do that later.

I got there just as some TSA guy was ranting at Jeremy. “You committed a huge breach of security. Do you know how many federal laws you’ve violated?” Jeremy stood there, defiant but also afraid. That was so unusual, because in the past he would already be screaming at the dude.

“That’s a bunch of shit,” I said, as I forced my way past these idiots so I was standing next to Jeremy. “He walked up and opened a door that wasn’t even marked ‘do not enter’.” I was stunned that this moron would treat a guest at this party so badly, since everyone here was influential.

“And who the fuck are you?” the guard demanded, getting in my face.

“Get the fuck away from me,” I demanded loudly, tossing out power just like my father did. It was cool that it worked and he backed up a bit “You will not invade my personal space!”

“I’m so sorry I offended you,” he said sarcastically.

“And I’m sorry you’re such an asshole,” I said to him. His face turned red, he was so angry.

“You still haven’t told me your name,” he said through clenched teeth.

“I’m Will Schluter,” I said. “I’m Jeremy’s brother.”

“You can go back to what you were doing,” he said dismissively. He clearly wanted me to leave so they could continue browbeating him.

“Jeremy, say nothing to these people,” I said, although it was more of a command. “Nothing.”

“Nothing,” he repeated.

“Do you have a card?” I demanded.

“I do,” he said in a smarmy way and handed it to me. I looked at it like it was a piece of shit, then stuffed it into my pocket.

“Is Jeremy being charged with some crime?” I demanded. They didn’t reply at all. “Is he?”

The group of security dudes all looked at each other, as if they were thinking about my question. “Not at this time,” the asshole said.

“Then we are out of here,” I said, waiting for them to challenge that statement.

“We’ve got your contact information, so if we have any questions we’ll contact you,” a TSA agent said.

“You are welcome to call,” I said. “When you do, you’ll be directed to his attorney.” I grabbed Jeremy’s hand and led him off, although it seemed like I was dragging him away from them, with Travis and Kris merging in behind us. It wasn’t until we got to the car that I could really exhale.

“Thanks,” Jeremy said, and put his hand on top of mine.

“You’re welcome,” I said, smiling weakly at him.

October 23, 2004

Tribeca

New York, NY

Jeremy

I walked into the kitchen in a foul mood. Last night things had started off really well then they’d turned to total shit. I’d managed to go out with Will and not get into a fight with him, even though he’d made it difficult. We’d had a nice dinner, and I was appropriately charming at the table. I’d even stopped to talk to a few of the artists while I’d been wandering around. Then I opened THE DOOR. When I did that, all hell broke loose. Everyone in that room, the cream of New York Society, watched me do something incredibly stupid. Everyone saw me make a total ass out of myself.

Kris, Will, and Travis were there and they were already eating, so we exchanged the obligatory morning greetings then I took my seat at the table. I felt a lot of tension in the room, and none of them would make eye contact with me. I couldn’t tell if they were upset or angry at me, but it had to be one of those emotions. “I am sorry about last night,” I said to all of them.

“It will be fine,” Kris said soothingly, even though his voice betrayed that he was very nervous.

I looked at all of them individually, then lost patience. “What?”

“What do you mean, ‘what’?” Kris asked.

“Something is going on, and I want to know what it is,” I demanded.

“You made the papers,” Will said reluctantly, and handed me the New York Times, folded open to the article in question. There was a picture from last night of me standing there with my hand on the half-open door, looking at the cameras with my mouth wide open in surprise. The picture was enhanced that much more by the lights from the door, which actually appeared to be flashing in the photo. Figures the photographer would manage to capture that in a still photo. “It’s not good.”

“No, it is not,” I said, my voice sounding hollow.

“They decided that because those doors can be opened, they represent a security risk,” Kris said.

“Well they are,” I said in annoyance. “I can’t believe there weren’t even signs on them.”

“There should have been,” Travis said supportively.

They sat there, as if they had more information that they were nervous about revealing. Since Will had been the most candid so far, I stared at him, demanding to know what it was. “Since the doors created a major risk to the airport, they closed the show.”

“They closed the entire show because I opened the wrong door?” I asked. I was absolutely horrified, mostly because everyone in the art world would now hate me.

“Yes,” Will said. “It was originally going to run for two months.”

“Oh my god,” I said. “I totally screwed over those artists!” It was hard enough to make it as an artist, and these people were really promising. And while that was sad, even worse was the negative impact that would have on my public image.

“They’ll probably find a different place for them to exhibit,” Travis said. His words were meaningless. There was no hope for those probably starving artists. I’d doomed them to begging in the gutter. Then the newspapers would take pictures of them and juxtapose them with photos of me getting out of my Maybach. This was a disaster. It dawned on me that in the past, I’d be blurting out these mental ruminations I was having, but with this new drug cocktail, I managed to keep my mouth shut.

That thought lasted about a second until I grappled with the full extent of this disaster. “I am ruined,” I said simply. “Ruined.”

“You’re not ruined; you’re damaged,” Will said, destroying my attempt to be maudlin about this. “I talked to Dad this morning, and they’re already bringing in a public relations firm to help you recover.”

“It will take years,” I whined despondently. “I don’t even know if it’s possible, but even if it does, it will probably take so long I’ll be on my death bed by the time I’m not hated by everyone.”

“You are being dramatic,” he said to me coldly. I so wanted to lash out at him, to tell him he was wrong and that my life was ending, but I glanced at Kris and his expression reminded me that would be a very dumb move. Instead, I adopted a different strategy.

“I’ve worked really hard to build my new life here in New York, and I really love it,” I said sincerely. “I’m really upset because I can see the damage that this will cause me, and I’m worried it will derail everything I’ve worked for.”

Will blinked at me in surprise. “I’m sorry. I get what you’re saying. You’re allowed to go a little drama over this.”

“What are your plans for today?” Kris asked Jeremy.

“I can’t go out in public!” I said, freaking out.

“Sure you can,” he said. “We have a play this afternoon, and Fuego tonight.”

“If anyone tries to give you shit about this, just tell them that if they’d put fucking signs on the door, you wouldn’t have opened it,” Will said, and seemed angry. At first I thought he was mad at me, but then I realized that he was angry at the airport people.

“By the way, thanks for coming over and dealing with those security assholes,” I said to him. He really did watch out for me. I stopped thinking about that because I’d just feel more guilty about how I’d treated him.

“You’re welcome,” he said, but in a nicer tone than he’d used before.

 

October 23, 2004

San Francisco, CA

Brad

“This was a wonderful idea,” JP said, as the car drove us up to La Suite, one of San Francisco’s newest eateries. Jake and I had invited Stef and Grand to spend the weekend in the City with us, and it had been very relaxed, a stark contrast to the animosity tossed at me by Claire and Mother at Escorial.

“What is this place?” Stef asked.

“La Suite is patterned after a French brasserie,” I said. “I assumed that would appeal to all of us.”

“That is good logic,” he said cheerfully. They sat us at a nice table where we could appreciate the casual yet elegant look of the restaurant, dominated by the zinc bar and open kitchen. Our waiter arrived and took our drink order, then the chef, Bruno Chemel, came out personally to tell us about the specials. Jake didn’t seem to mind that we had that conversation entirely in French.

“This is one of my favorite places in the City,” I said. “Especially since they’re usually open later than most other restaurants.”

“Tomorrow we’ll go to Mina’s,” Jake said. “That’s at the Weston. The best thing about that place is the décor.”

“Let us hope the food is also good,” JP said.

“Have you heard any more about Doorgate?” Stef asked, referring to Jeremy’s experience at Terminal 5.

“At this point, it’s mostly damage control,” I said. “And the damage just got worse.”

“Indeed?” Stef asked.

“Apparently the fact that Jeremy could open the door exposed the security flaws in the arrangements, so they canceled the show,” Jake said.

“It is worth noting that it was supposed to last two months,” I said.

“That is certainly unfortunate, and will not make things easier for Jeremy,” JP said.

“We’re looking into taking legal action,” Jake said. “By their carelessness, the airport has caused Jeremy considerable embarrassment.”

“Keep us posted,” JP said.

“It seems that Claire is still furious with everyone,” Stef said, going into his gossip mood. “Isidore is frenzy feeding over their mutual anger.”

I rolled my eyes. “They can think what they want,” which was the equivalent of saying ‘fuck them’.

“I suspect that with Claire there is also anger at Jack that has been redirected at the rest of us,” JP opined.

I thought about that and nodded. “She can’t really be mad at him for being with that nurse, but she is, so this gives her a way to deal with it.”

“Does anyone know the status of her relationship with Jack?” Jake asked.

“My understanding is that she has noticeably cooled toward him,” Stef said, ever the source of gossip.

“Much as we predicted,” I said. They looked at me, confused by my statement. “She will pull him in, or in this case, she will push him away, trying to find the spot where their relationship works for her.”

“I understand there is a plan in place to hopefully heal some of these rifts,” Stef said.

“There is?” JP asked.

“I can say no more than that,” Stef said, and got a glare from me, because this was just the kind of shit I hated. If he wasn’t going to tell me what it was, why couldn’t he keep his mouth shut and not tell me that there was a scheme afoot?

“Whatever,” I said in irritation.

Stef gave me a look of annoyance then changed the subject. “Have we discovered who ended up beating us out of that Tesla deal?”

“Tesla?” JP asked. “My understanding is that he has been dead for some time.” That made us chuckle lightly, and served to erase the tension Stef had started with his secret bullshit.

“It’s an electric car company,” I said. I saw JP perk up at that, because he loved cars. “They’re trying to create a viable electric vehicle. The goal is to create one that can go 200-300 miles on a charge, and still be fun to drive.”

“What happens when you run out of power on a lone desert highway?” Jake asked, making us think about the song ‘Hotel California’.

“At this point, you would have to be towed,” I said. “But most people don’t drive that far in their daily commute.”

“Ah, but it is not so much the distance as the time,” Stef noted. “Which reminds me to ask about the status of our heliport.”

“When an electric car is not accelerating, it consumes very little energy,” JP said. “So in this case, it is about the distance, not about the time.” He conveniently avoided addressing the issue about the heliport.

“That is all fine and good, but that does not answer my original question,” Stef said, referring to who had gotten the deal.

“I am wondering how you got sidelined on this investment?” JP asked. I saw him grin slightly, which clued me in that he was trying to stretch the time out before answering Stef to bother him.

“We were approached to invest $5 million, but they gave us no time to do any research,” I explained. “By the time we finished looking at it, someone else had put up the money instead.”

“Perhaps we need to act with more speed,” Stef said.

“Why are you so frustrated about this?” JP asked him.

“Because I think this has the potential to be an amazing investment, a unicorn, if you will,” Stef said. “I am frustrated that we missed out.”

“A unicorn?” Jake asked.

“With angel investing, the risks are so high because only a small portion of those companies become enormously successful,” I explained. “Start-ups like Apple and Google that succeed are so rare they are called ‘unicorns’.”

“Makes sense,” Jake said.

“Maybe we can get into it when it goes to standard venture capital funding,” I said. The risks would be lower, but the potential returns would also be significantly reduced.

“That is our only option at this point,” Stef said. “Yet you have still not answered my question about who beat us out.”

“We don’t know, and they aren’t talking,” I said. “The only information we got is that the stock was bought by a trust called CAWS.”

“Perhaps it has something to do with crows?” JP opined.

“Perhaps,” Stef said, shaking his head in amusement.