Issue #91 – Rock and Roll Lifestyle

The Descendants Vol 8: The Weaver's Web

• Issue #85 – The Ballad of Bad Lass
• Issue #86 – Those Not Forgotten
• Issue #87 – Descendants… In Space
• Issue #88 – Tome of Battle
• Issue #89 – All That Glitters
• Issue #90 – Just Us Sidekicks
• Issue #91 – Rock and Roll Lifestyle
• Descendants Special #8 – The Heart of Rock ‘N Roll
• Issue #92 – Homage
• Issue #93 – Day of Recovery
• Issue #94 – The Knight, The Witch and the Gadgeteer (FaerieQuest Part 1)
• Issue #95 – Into The Woods (FaerieQuest Part 2)

Rock and Roll Lifestyle (Part 2)

The Brant Industries corporate jet wasn’t the party jet Cyn and the other expected. Evidently, the company’s executives, no matter how high up, were actually expected to use the jet as a conveyance for business instead of a flying hotel room or a mere luxury.

In fact, Cyn got the distinct impression that her new grandfather didn’t even use the plane for personal business and were only loaning its use out to her because they were doting on her. Which was a new experience: her old family certainly never doted on her. Laurel took good care of her and always had a snack waiting and time to talk, but this was something different.

Different to the point of distracting her while the others were enjoying the drinks, food and music that had been waiting aboard for them.

“Are you okay?” The soft, deep voice of Ollie asked from beside her. He’d settled down for a nap shortly after take-off, but evidently hadn’t drifted into that much of one.

She gave him a small smile and rewarded his concern by leaning into him. “Mostly. I’m just feeling… guilty.”

“Guilty?” Ollie didn’t hide his confusion.

“I know, right?” She folded her arms awkwardly. “But… yeah. It’s like I know in my head that my family’s rich and stuff, and I could probably ask for all sorts of crazy stuff, but it never felt right. Honestly, it’s just enough that Laurel cared enough to adopt me even though I didn’t even really need adopting. Asking for more seems like it’d be way too much, and I don’t need much: food, a place to crash—give me that and I’m happy.”

Ollie’s eyebrows knit. “I’m not seeing where the guilt’s coming from here.”

She flailed with her hands as if trying to conjure an image to make it clearer. “Think of it this way: I’ve hated Lily for a lot of things—a lot of things—but a big part of it is her being this diva that thinks she’s better than people because her parents make a lot of money. And here I am, using my grandparents’ money to rub it in Lily’s face.”

Letting her head drop fully onto Ollie’s shoulder. “I read up on him you know? My grandpa? He’s not one of these assholes that are all ‘grown up Lily’. He doesn’t act like he’s done anything special or worked harder than someone else just because things went his way. The guy gives out like a billion dollars in scholarships a year plus other stuff and he doesn’t even take the tax break on it.

“I feel like I haven’t even been in the family more than a year—not even long enough to go to the Fourth of July barbecue—and I’m already a disgrace to the name. One step away from doing a sex tape and getting a reality show.”

Ollie threaded his arm around between her back and the chair and brought it up to stroke her hair. “Cyn, one plane trip doesn’t mean anything. Plus, you did this for your friends, right? Not just to tee off Lily, right?”

She sniffed. “That’s true. But I really super-enjoyed facing Lily though.”

“Everyone enjoyed that—at least from what I hear. Wish I was there.”

At that, Cyn’s smile brightened a bit. “Speaking of which, I’m glad you managed to get time off to come with us for the weekend.”

“Same here. The boss is murder about getting time off out of him.” He rolled his eyes. “As if everything would go to hell if one special courier was gone a couple of days.”

“How’d you convince him?”

“Cried.”

That made her laugh. “You did not.”

He grinned at her. “Maybe I did. That or I might have offered to do a few out-of-town deliveries, which aren’t in my contract, and not tell the union.”

“Nice.” Cyn said, holding in a laugh.

“Feeling better?” Ollie asked after a quiet moment between the two.

She nodded, but also shrugged, “A little. I think I’m gonna have to think about this a little more… but not right now.” Shifting away from leaning on him, she kissed him on the cheek. Let’s get something to eat, okay?”

“Sounds good,” he replied, standing up to go with her.

***

Meanwhile, on the other side of the continent, the members of Snackrifice; Lisa, Kay, Juniper, Jessica and JC, who was still being drafted as the drummer were getting acquainted with their comped suite at the Seaward Majestic Hotel.

“Oh my goodness, there’s a room with just a hot tub, a bar, and balcony access!” Kay called out to whoever could hear her from the living room. “We are so room-servicing some champagne and drinking it in there! Maybe I can find some groupie guys to bring up here…”

JC had planted himself on the big, fluffy couch as soon as they’d gotten in and started checking out the expanded web television offerings. When Kay made he suggestion, he shook his head violently. “No one said there were going to be dude-bimbos. I draw the line at having to be in a hot tub with dimbos… mimbos… dumbos. Yeah, dumbos. No dumbos, Kay.”

Emerging from one of the bedrooms with a smirk, Lisa asked, “But you would have been so very okay with tubbing with the rest of an all-girl rock band?”

“Sh-yeah!” JC said, before realizing the trap he was blundering into. “I mean only because one is my hot—and very forgiving—girlfriend and I mean Jun and Kay are two of my best friends, you know I wouldn’t… you know, I’m going to shut up now.”

Kay appeared at the door to the room with the hot tub. She had her hair done in an electric-blue bun and was wearing sunglasses she’d bought the moment they reached an airport gift shop. “So you’re not, like down with the male groupies, old man?” She was speaking with the exaggerated British accent of a certain classic rocker, “But what if this lit’le bird got herself a fellow rock star? I hear Remy Jackson an’ Linda Cooper are on the outs. Maybe Remy needs to meet Kay.”

“Um, excuse me? Guys?” As if completely ignorant of the current conversation, Jessica came out of the opposite bedroom as Lisa had, hugging one of her bags to her chest. “I don’t want to cause a problem, and it was really nice for the sponsors of the festival to put us up… but did anyone notice that there are only two bedrooms… and only four beds?”

The other three looked at each other, then to her, wondering what the problem was.

“…and there are five of us?”

The earnestness in her expression made Lisa and then, as a result, JC go red for a second. Lisa recovered first. “Oh. Well JC and I… were going to share?”

There were few ways for Jessica, despite being quite tall, to look more innocent and mousy, but the widening of her eyes as she processed this managed it handily. “Oh… but won’t Kay be in the other bed?”

“Well we hadn’t picked beds, but let me just say that none of that better be happening while I’m in the room.” Kay glared a warning at her two oldest friends.

“I’ll put a t-shirt or something on the door handle if we’re…” JC checked his language upon catching sight of Jessica’s expression, “I…” Then he sat up on the sofa. “Okay, look: we’re all adult here, right? Even if not everyone has had sex, can we agree that it’s a thing that happens? It’s not exactly scandal worthy.”

“I’ve just never been around when…” Jessica blushed to her ears, “My family is very private. I never even fooled around alone while someone else was in the house.”

Lisa pinched the bridge of her nose. “I really liked all this talk when it was about Kay and her horde of pretty fanboys and no, you know, me.”

“I liked it when it was about my pretty boys too,” Kay exclaimed, “Because that involved me getting laid and not getting kicked out of my room.”

“There’s a joke I could be making here, but notice how I’m not making it?” JC asked Lisa, who made a face at him. “What? I think that’s a sign that I’ve grown as a person.”

At that moment, Juniper came out of the second bedroom behind Jessica, also seemingly oblivious to the conversation. “Did you see all the things you can order from room service? It’s not just food; you can get a hairdresser, or a message therapist, oh my, a four hour spa. And they’ll bring up game tables too if you request them: air hockey, pool, ping-pong. Though I was never good at ping-pong, though it is fun to watch…”

At last, she looked up into the awkward silence she’d inadvertently created. “Is… everyone okay? Did you not get the menu app on your palmtops?” She held up her device.

“Juniper, you are my hero.” Lisa said, coming around the couch. “Did you say a hairdresser? Because I was wondering about whether or not to get something special done for our set.”

“Do they have a colorist on staff?” Kay asked, “Because I’m thinking either doing a flame motif, or spiking all my hair up into a full statue of liberty deal.”

With everyone else in the room distracted by Juniper, Jessica, bag still clutched to her chest, went over and sat next to JC. “So,” she said with an awkward half-laugh, “Who else from Mayfield did you say would be here?”

JC counted them off on his fingers. “Warrick, Cyn, Callie and her friends—you know, Lily’s bunch, uh… Ollie, Melissa, Malcolm, and Meghan. Huh. Three M’s.”

“Your friend Kareem isn’t coming?”

“He’s got a group project thing he has to go to tonight. He’s going to fly out in the morning though so he doesn’t miss out set,” he lied smoothly. Kareem had detected some odd movement in the astral plane and was working with the Magi-Club in Fredericksburg to see if he could pinpoint its nature and location. Laurel herself was going to fly him out on the Descendants jet (he could never remember or pronounce the its actual name).

“Oh.” Jessica nodded sadly. “I don’t really have anyone flying out to watch me. It’s a pretty long trip and hotels are expensive out here.”

“You should have told us you wanted you family and stuff out here. In case you haven’t noticed, we’re pretty damn lucky in the connections department. Someone: Lisa, Cyn, War—hell even Lily would have made it happen for you.”

She hugged her bag tighter. “To tell the truth, I wouldn’t have known who to invite. I would feel like a dork having my parent’s fly out to watch this because what kind of rock star has their mom and dad waiting in the wings. And I kind of grew apart from my friends after graduation. Really Juniper’s been the best friend I’ve had since college started… and I don’t want to mess that up…”

“Huh?”

“Nothing. You said Malcolm was coming? Does that mean I’ll get kicked out of my room like Kay?”

JC blinked, started to say something, then shut his mouth. It felt wrong speculating on Juniper’s sex life just as much as it was funny speculating on Kay’s. He couldn’t put his finger on why, but he knew he wasn’t the only one in the group that felt that way; as if the devil himself would drag you down to hell if you thought of Jun that way. Lie, cheat, steal? Fine. Think of Juniper in a sexual way? Straight to hell.

Her mother owning a walking tank and her father being capable of launching beams of psychokinetic energy probably helped that along.

“Not really my place to talk,” he said in full honesty. “Maybe you can take it up with her yourself.”

That made her go red, which made him feel a little guilty. “I don’t think I can do that…”

Lisa saved them both from the awkwardness. “Alright guys, Sonia is going to be taking us all to lunch at Sangre City at one and we should be done there by the time the others get into town and we can all hang out. That gives us just under forty-five minutes to get ready.”

The girls all headed into the rooms (and attached bathrooms) for the very purpose.

JC on the other hand, just sat back on the couch and resumed flipping channels. He figured he looked good enough for a drummer already.

***

‘Funds Received’.

Noting that the amount was right, Garfield Kleinstock switched to his custom-made app outlining his mission and its objectives. An image of Sonia Remington was the first thing that popped up. Not that he needed it; she was unique enough that he could have picked her out with just a vague description.

The trouble was in finding her. Yes, she was in LA, yes she was going to be at the Global Systematics Festival of Music, but LA and the Festival were very big places. So he picked up a printed, untraceable phone he’d made in a convenience store on his way from the airport to his motel, and dialed the only number programmed into it: the burner phone’s twin.

“I hear you, Fat Cat, what’s up?” came a female voice. Kaycee (Not her real name, he was sure), was his tech consultant and the author of his custom app.

“Did you get me an active location on her?”

Kaycee scoffed. “You don’t even check before you call, do you? I made a pass by her in the airport, cloned her palmtop. As long as it’s on and the GPS is on, I’ve got her. You’ve got her too: just tap the pic and it’ll call up a GPS map. Easy as that.”

Kleinstock picked up the palmtop and did so, revealing exactly such a map. “Nice.”

“Mama Kaycee would never leave you hanging, Fat Cat. Speaking of which, you are gonna get a pizza delivery in about ten minutes, courtesy of KC’s Sunshine Pizza.”

He grinned. Deliveries from Kaycee always made his day brighter. “What toppings?”

“Oh, about fifty cal, with some Teflon with a brand new barrel for your ‘special’ gun to take the recoil from these bad boys. Remington might be bullet proof, but she hasn’t met this bullet, or the special jacket.”

“Depleted uranium?”

“Please. That’s old tech. Mama Kaycee has the new hotness: ever heard of orihalcite?”

“Can’t say that I have, Kaycee. What’s the deal with it?”

On the other end, Kaycee snickered. “The deal is that no one’s even got ballistics on these yet. My supplier got the first batch. He says he watched a demonstration and these things cut through tank armor. Takes a whole new gun to get the muzzle velocity high enough to make ’em shine, but once you test these out on Remington, we can expand the business, hunt some big game: heads of state, supers?”

“Have a little patience, Kaycee.” Kleinstock put down the palmtop and extended his left arm. The palm of his hand split open along the major lines, exposing the inner workings of a custom prosthetic with a built in gun running right down the center of the forearm.

“One job at a time.”