Two days later Zac was out of the studio until the day after Christmas. Zac asked Gwen to invite Lindsay so she wouldn't be bothering him so much. They'd been in Los Angeles for two months now and Gwen still hadn't made any friends. It was clear why; the only thing Gwen did during the day was clean the apartment and shop when she felt like it.
"Oh, I'm so excited to have Lindsay out here," Gwen said at the airport. Lindsay's flight was in, and they were just waiting for her to weave through the airport and meet them at the security checkpoint, which was the furthest place Zac and Gwen could go without a ticket. "Two months is way too long to not see my best friend."
"I told you to make some friends out here," Zac said. "But all you do is clean and shop."
"Who am I going to make friends with, Zac?" she asked. "You don't have any friends. All you do is work."
"I have friends," Zac said. "I just work with them all."
"Whatever, Zac."
"Gwen!!" Gwen's head snapped over and her lips curled into a big smile.
"Linds!" Lindsay ran over and threw her arms around Gwen. "Oh my God I've missed you so much, honey!" Gwen let go of Lindsay, who turned to Zac. Instead of hugging him, like he had expected, she poked him in the chest.
"You're the reason I haven't seen her in two months."
"Excuse me?" Zac asked. "As I recall it was completely her decision. I just asked." Lindsay gave him a look but threw her arms around him anyway. "I missed you too, Lindsay."
"I know, I know, everybody missed Lindsay," she said, pulling away. "Okay, let's go. I want to see your apartment. Where am I going? I just kind of followed everybody else out here."
"This way," Zac said, lightly pushing Lindsay to the left. Lindsay began walking, next to Gwen. Zac took Gwen's hand in his. She gave him a smile as they quickly weaved through the airport towards baggage claim. When they arrived, the bags were just beginning to roll around the track. "How many do you have, Linds?"
"Two," she said, holding up two fingers. "They're dark green."
"Okay." Zac waited until Lindsay pointed them out, then took the two mid-sized suitcases off the track. He carried one and Lindsay rolled the other one behind her. She followed quietly as Zac and Gwen walked to the elevators, back to the parking garage. "So, how was your flight, Linds?"
"It was okay," she said. "I had to wait a long time in Tulsa, though. It was raining and they kept delaying the flight."
"I know," Zac said. "Every time we checked on the flight it was delayed."
"Yeah, but the actual flight itself was good. I've never gone first class before, and I had no problem going economy, but Zac's so bloody persistent."
"Whatever, I'm not going to have my best friend fly all the way out here economy when I can afford for her to fly first class," he said. "If I don't spend my money on you, Gwen is just going to spend it on shoes or something."
"That is true," Gwen said. They reached the parking garage and Zac put Lindsay's suitcases in the trunk of the car. Lindsay was obviously still amazed at the amount of money that Zac had; he could tell. She was just too polite to comment on it. Zac allowed Gwen to drive so she and Lindsay could chat away in the front seat while Zac sat in the back.
"So Jarren's got this little girlfriend," Lindsay was saying to Gwen, "she's a little bitch and I hate her guts. Her name's Mary and she's just so pretty, and so funny, and so perfect� It makes me want to barf just seeing them together."
"Really?" Gwen asked.
"Yeah! Honestly I don't know what he sees in her. It's probably because she's got huge knockers and she's a slut." Gwen glanced back at Zac through the rear-view mirror. He knew exactly what that meant; it was obvious Lindsay was in love with Jarren. That had been evident to Zac since he first saw them together, and Gwen had seen it go on long before Zac did.
"Well, Linds," Gwen said, "does he know how you feel?"
"Yes!" she said. "I told him I don't like her."
"No, I mean how you feel about him," Gwen said. "Does he know you're in love with him?"
"I'm not in love with Jarren!" Lindsay said immediately. "Where the hell did you pick that one up from?" Gwen smiled.
"I'm sorry, you're not? It sure does seem like it."
"Well you're wrong."
"Am I really?" Gwen muttered, and Lindsay didn't hear. "Well, anyway, after we get home and you're all settled in, I want to take you shopping. I have a fitting with the people who want to make my dress, I told you about them, right?"
"Yes," Lindsay said. "That's so awesome. I wish Zac would take me to an awards show."
"If I had another ticket, I would, babe, and you know it," Zac said.
When they arrived home, Zac took Lindsay's bags as Gwen and Lindsay lolled behind, allowing Lindsay to check out the building before going upstairs. Zac had just put Lindsay's bags down in the guest room when he heard the two of them enter the apartment.
"Oh my God, Gwen, this is beautiful!! It is just like Charlotte's apartment."
"Whose apartment?" Zac asked, passing them on his way to the kitchen to check the messages.
"Charlotte from Sex and the City," Lindsay said. "It looks just like it. I love it, Gwen."
"You have to see our room, it's the best room in the house," Gwen said, taking Lindsay's hand and leading her to the bedroom. Zac looked at the messages and saw he had one.
"I wonder who that is," he said to himself, and pressed the play button.
"Zac! It's Peter," Peter's voice said quickly and forcefully. Zac groaned. "I need to speak with you immediately!! Call me as soon as you get home." What the fuck? Zac thought. He picked up the phone and called Peter back.
"Peter Denepir speaking."
"Hey Peter, it's Zac."
"Zac, where were you?"
"I was at the airport. My best friend just flew in from Tulsa and I had to pick her up," Zac said. "What's going on?"
"I need you down here right now."
"Why? I thought the guys were in Jersey," Zac said.
"They are. I need you down here, though." Zac sighed.
"Pete, it's my day off, I was going to go out with my best friend�"
"This shouldn't take too long, if you get down here right now," Peter said. "I'll see you in a half hour." Zac opened his mouth to comment, but Peter had already hung up. Zac put the phone back on its charger.
"Fuck you," Zac said. "Gwen! Where are you?"
"In here!" Gwen yelled from their bathroom. He grabbed his coat from the chair he'd thrown it on and put it on as he walked over to the bathroom. Lindsay was admiring the bathtub. "What's up?"
"I have to go to the studio," Zac said.
"Why? Bill and Joe went back to New Jersey this morning."
"I know," Zac said. "Peter definitely just insisted that I come down right now. I don't know what the hell is going on, but I have to be there. He said it wouldn't take too long."
"Okay," Gwen said. "Is everything all right?"
"I'm sure it is," Zac said. "But I just need to get down there before Peter has an aneurysm. I'll be back." Zac grabbed his keys off the table and left the apartment quickly.
"What's going on?" Zac asked. Peter was waiting for Zac in the lobby, so as soon as Zac walked in, Peter snatched him and took him into one of the meeting rooms. A number of executives and top management stiffs were collected on one side of the table. Some of these people Zac had never met in person before, although he knew exactly who they were, mostly through reputation.
"Sit down," Peter said, motioning to the middle seat on the other side of the long table, so Zac was facing everyone else in the room. Peter took the only other seat left, directly opposite Zac. Zac could only speculate what this meeting could be about; frankly, he was scared. Quickly scanning his memory, he didn't think he did anything wrong, so hopefully this was not a "we're letting you go" meeting.
"What's all this about?" Zac asked, skeptically. Peter glanced around to his associates and cleared his throat.
"We got a hold of your recording from the other day," Peter began. Zac immediately scoffed and sat back in his seat. So that's what this was about.
"How?"
"It was still on the computer," Peter said.
"Dammit," Zac muttered. "Listen, I already said I wasn't interested in doing anything with it. I was just trying to get a little pent-up emotion out of my system, and that's how I do it. I didn't mean for anybody to hear it."
"We'd like to give you a record deal, Zac," Peter said. Zac sighed. That was so tempting. That was incredibly tempting.
"No," he said, after a short pause. He shook his head. "No, I don't want one."
"It would be a contract over at least three albums. You would have complete creative control; you pick the producers and you pick the writers if you want writers. You could even write the entire album yourself. It would be all up to you."
"No."
"We would be paying you, over the course of your three albums, this much," Peter said, writing down a number on a piece of paper. He slid it over to Zac, who looked at it. He nearly fell out of his seat. He'd never seen money like that before. He didn't even think one person could make that much money of a record deal. His eyes noticeably grew, and Peter nodded to one of the other people. Trying his best to keep his composure, Zac slid the piece of paper with a surprisingly calm hand back to Peter.
"No thank you," Zac said.
"Okay." Peter scratched out the number and wrote another one. "How about this?" Zac looked at the piece of paper again. Peter had doubled the number.
"I said no," Zac said, unusually calm. "I'm not interested in a deal, no matter how much money you put in front of me. I like my producing job and there's really nothing you can do to change that."
"Are you sure?" Peter asked. "Because everybody in the room knows you, Zac. You're a musician and you always will be. The only reason you took this job is because you were upset with your brother and that's perfectly understandable. But just think about it, Zac. Think about the rest of your life without music. It's been two months and you've already had enough emotion built up to give us this," Peter said, holding up a copy of Zac's recording. "Imagine spending the rest of your life building up emotion like that and not having somewhere to let it out. You don't write, you just help other people's music sound better. You help arrange other people's music to the way they want it to be done. This has nothing to do with your creative side. You're just going to be doing what other people are telling you to do for the rest of your life. This is chance at being your own boss�completely. You write your music, you record your music, and you produce your music. We just distribute it. You'll get to do whatever you want for the rest of your life and with this money here, you and your family will be set for life."
"You don't understand, Peter�"
"I think I do," Peter said. He slid the piece of paper back over to Zac. "Hold onto that. Take it home, look at it, and think about it. If you find you change your mind, you know where to call me." Zac sighed. He knew he shouldn't have, but he took the slip of paper and put it in his pocket.
"Don't hold your breath," Zac said, standing up. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have somewhere to be." Zac turned around and walked out of the room. As soon as the door closed behind him, he fell into a chair. "Oh my God," he breathed. "Oh my God."
"Are you okay?" Ellen the receptionist asked.
"Yeah," Zac said, waving it off. "Yeah, I'll be fine. I just need to calm down." Zac took a few breaths before standing up. "See you in a few days, Ell. Merry Christmas."
"Merry Christmas to you too, Zac," Ellen said. "I do hope you come back as an artist, not as a producer."
"Shut up, Ellen," Zac said and left quickly. In the car on the way home he screamed, more than once, and was very close to punching himself in the face for turning that down. He'd never seen so much money in his entire life and he said no. His salary as a producer paled in comparison to that money and he'd turned it down.
When he got home, Gwen and Lindsay were watching television. "Hey honey," Gwen said, watching him walk into the apartment. "Is everything okay?"
"No," Zac spat.
"Uh-oh," she said. "What happened?"
"They offered me a record deal!" Zac yelled. Gwen looked at Lindsay, questioningly, before speaking.
"And that's a bad thing?" she asked.
"Of course it's a bad thing!" he yelled again. "I don't want a record deal! I don't want to do any solo work! I'm perfectly happy where I am right now." Gwen was still confused. "And then they wouldn't let me say no! They kept sweetening the deal. We'll let you have complete artistic control! You can do whatever you want! We won't even be there if you don't want us there! No, not good enough for you, here's how much we'll pay you. Still no? We'll double it."
"How much money are we talking about, exactly?" Gwen asked.
"And then they're like, 'Why don't you go home and think about it? We'll be here if you change your mind.' Record companies don't just do that to people. Usually you have to spent all this money on a demo, then send it out to anybody who'll listen, and work from nothing to get a slim chance at not even a fraction of what they're offering me."
"What are they offering?" Gwen asked. Zac took the piece of paper out of his pocket and showed it to her. Her eyes grew and her hands immediately began to shake. "And you turned this down?"
"It's not about the money, Gwen," he said, taking the paper away from her. He crumpled it up and threw it away. "I don't want to do it."
"Yes you do!" Gwen said, turning around to face him. "You know you do! This is something you've been wanting to do since you walked out on the band."
"Hey, I didn't walk out on anybody," Zac said.
"Fine, whatever," Gwen said. "But you know you've been wanting to do this, Zac! You're not a producer. You're a singer. You were put here on this earth to sing and they're going to pay you to do it! There's going to pay you a hell of a lot of money to do it! You could�you could buy a small third world country with this!"
"You're wrong, Gwen."
"Fine. Don't do it. But if you don't do it, you're never going to be able to perform in front of people again. I remember, Linds remembers, when you came home from the tour and you wouldn't fucking shut up about it. You went on and on about how awesome it was to be on stage, how much you loved it when the people sang along with the songs you wrote, and how much of a high it was�you're never going to experience that again."
"I don't want to talk about this right now," Zac said. "Aren't you two going shopping?"
"We were waiting for the car."
"Well the car is here. Go shopping. God knows we can afford it." Zac went into his bedroom and shut the door behind him.