Post by JUDE KENNEDY on Aug 25, 2009 10:50:50 GMT -8
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I'M STARING AT THE ASPHALT
A STRANGER WITH YOUR DOOR KEY, EXPLAINING I'M JUST VISITING
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Jude flipped back and forth between two dates in Brooke’s social calendar as he tried to decide who took more precedent with his boss: Club Blush’s Annual Bash or Club Pure’s Fall Event. He wasn’t sure which would be the more pressing of events until he remembered that Brooke had specifically stated she was crossing Pure off the next couple of weeks due to its recent hosting of guests that she found distasteful. With a red Sharpie, Jude drew a neat line through that date and moved up Blush’s usual request for her presence. He congratulated himself on being on point with that and reserving her designated tables in preparation. As he was about to start on September’s social events, a magazine was tossed from a good six feet away onto the desk before him, nearly upsetting his innocently sitting cup of coffee.
“Brooke? What the-…” He started after reflexively hanging onto to the tipping cup, working for Brooke had an enormous effect on his reaction time, thankfully. Jude waited for her to say something but instead he heard her go into the other room, all the while chatting uninterruptedly on her cell phone. Unusual. As he picked up the magazine, Jude caught Brooke out of the corner of his eye. She continued speaking but made the gesture that as soon as she got off the phone, they were going to talk.
Perplexed as ever, he caught the fleeting byline of the front page of the local gossip rag. Kennedy’s Fall From Grace. He hesitated for a moment. On principle alone, Jude refused to read Page Six. It was no better than the high school girl’s bathroom and he was pretty positive that he didn’t have any business reading other people’s social blunders, regardless of the zip code. Still. He knew it was unlikely that the byline was coincidence. Highly unlikely Brooke threw the magazine at him for no reason. Incredibly unlikely that the portentous statement had anything good to say. With a set jaw, Jude turned the front page and flipped to the infamous sightings page. A part of the magazine solely dedicated to obliterating whatever sense of privacy one might have in a city as big as Las Vegas.
In full color, taking half of the sightings page, Jude saw himself. Twice. The report was titled, “Jude Kennedy: The Moral Compass?”
There he stood with two different women and in completely incriminating photos. He couldn’t even recall ever having his picture taken at these moments, let alone with these people. Of course, he recognized them instantly. The first hadn’t even been taken in Vegas and how it’d come into the hands of anyone on Page Six’s staff was beyond him. It was an old photo of Jude with his ex-girlfriend from San Francisco. The second was more recent and definitely in Vegas but innocent by all means. The girl was just the personal assistant of Brooke’s recent business partner. They’d collaborated on various tasks for their bosses and had gotten coffee that morning. Sure, the girl had been a little more friendly than Jude preferred but it was perfectly innocent on his behalf.
Neither was relevant to his life.
Not like Grace. Jude felt everything stop for one moment as he realized that Grace was probably reading this somewhere. She had a gig that morning at the café and-…He stood up with the magazine in hand and closed all of the work he’d been doing. He was going to have to leave early. Brooke would understand, he was sure.
“Brooke, I have to go. I’ll be back tomorrow. Text me if you need anything,” He yelled in the direction of her room before fleeing the mansion and getting into his rented Lexus.
He had to find Grace before she found Page Six. Or Page Six found her.
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Her set had just ended when Jude walked in and already he could see various scraps of the local paper laying around the café. Those awkward glares weren’t imagined, Jude definitely felt and saw them. Ignoring them the best he could, he began weaving his way through the tables and backstage.
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STATUS: DONE.
TAGGED: GRACE.
WORDS: 693.
OUTFIT: MR. CASUAL, right?
LYRICS: THE DISTRICT SLEEPS ALONE TONIGHT by the postal service.
CREDIT: RETRO GLAMOUR ! @ CAUTION 2.0
