All the Love in the Universe

Sixteen. ATL-Alec

It was surreal, seeing Lassie and Marie across the table from one another, staring into each other's visages. Lassie, overly-caked in eyeshadow and blush, contrasted visually with Marie's earthy lack of style. It was like a peacock meeting a sparrow.

Alec's guts plummeted then catapulted up into his throat when Lassie opened her mouth. He anticipated the face-off, of heavyweight bout, of the century—at the very least, a good old fashioned cat fight.

What he got was a tutorial in maturity, openness, and authenticity.

"I saw the headlines, and I know you did, too," Lassie told Marie. "May I hold your hand?"

Marie nodded and the two clasped hands across the table.

"It's just dastardly what the paps will do." She meant the paparazzi. "I know you didn't fall for it, but whoever did will now get a different angle on the story."

Alec glanced at the growing circle of reporters and fans recording the girls and their tête-à-tête. Lassie was rewriting the headlines, re-righting the wrong.

"Alec and you are iconic," Lassie stayed plainly. "Everyone knows that. Like everyone else on the planet, I'm just watching from the sidelines, interested to see how this'll all end up. My intuition tells me you'll work it out."

Marie nodded again, and squeezed Lassie's hands.

"Let's be friends," Lassie proffered with a jingle of her long, vividly-colored earrings. Her outfit today was over the top: something akin to what a hippie girl from the Sixties might wear, if she'd wandered into a glitter factory. Her hair was dyed fruit punch red with goldenrod streaks. It was just another day in the Lassie LaFleur universe.

"But it's not just the fact that we all know how tight you and Alec are," Lassie continued suavely. "There's also no chemistry between us. None. I'd like to collaborate with him, and you. I'm not here to complicate things."

Alec was more than a little uneasy about these two speaking this bluntly about him as if he weren't right there, or having a say in the matter. His ego flared and threatened to riot. He was also secretly miffed by the flippant injury to his male pride. Lassie just told the world she didn't desire him. It seemed like neither of these girls were about to fight for him. He scratched his hair nervously, and sucked on his bottom lip. All he wanted was for the exchange to be over. He was wound up enough about the appearance on Tardan Tonight later; this stress was going to send him over the cliff.

"Also, there's this," Lassie added with a smile. She leaned over the tabletop and whispered something softly against Marie's cheek. Marie's eyes shot open and she giggled into her hand. "Shh! Our secret. Promise?"

Marie agreed, still laughing, stealing amused glances at the bewildered Alec.

"What?" was all he could say. "What'd she say?"

The journalists were also beside themselves with curiosity, and called out to the girls with incessant inquiries. Every question was ignored.

"Time to get inside the Tower," Lassie excused herself with a flamboyant gesture of her hand. She blew big kisses at Alec and Marie, and disappeared into the wake of onlookers. As she made her departure, she called out to Marie, "Feel free to tell Alec—but ONLY Alec!"

She thrust her vibrant head back with a laugh so large, it rocked her body, and then was gone.

Alec couldn't take the suspense any longer.

"What'd she tell you!?"

"Not here," Marie kept laughing. "After we're inside, alone."

They finished their mac n' cheese lunches and thanked the proprietor, who scurried to bus their plates and forks.

John and Paulson and an accompanying entourage arrived building-side just as Marie and Alec were mounting the Tower steps to enter. As soon as John spotted Marie, he grumbled something into his chest and made no effort to conceal his scowl. Paulson kept his eyes away from Marie, but seemed, as usual, generally unaffected by the world.

Inside, Marie and Alec had to part ways. She was headed to her own interview on a higher floor than Tardan Tonight. Alec caressed her hips with his hands and pulled her deep against him in front of the elevator.

"I love you," he whispered into her lips, kissing her. "I'll be in and out as they let me."

They kissed again, and Alec made a show for the cameras at not wanting to let her go. The crowd grinned and awed at their public display of love. The headlines by tomorrow would no longer connect Lassie to Alec.

As soon as Marie was out of sight, John was himself again. He draped his arms over Alec's shoulders and patted his head like a puppy. He sang loud, raucous Broadway parodies that ricocheted off the shiny floors and entertained the party of people following their every move.

"I want a bag of chips," Paulson said, roving his eyes around the area. Several individuals immediately scattered to the winds, each intent on fulfilling the order.

While they waited for the snack, John continued to hop and dance around, giddy with anxiety over the big day. Reporters peppered them with little questions, but were more relaxed than usual. It was a laid back atmosphere in the Tower, all things considered.

Until John collapsed, gasping and hugging his chest.

Everyone surrounded him at once, multiple phones requested help, other people engaged Tower security. Within a minute, on-staff medics were at his side, ordering anyone who wasn't on their team away.

Alec's nervous system flooded with anxiety as adrenaline pumped him into action. He barked at the medics to work harder, directed reporters to call for outside assistance.

The Worry rose up in all its monstrous might and warned, "This is it! This is what happens when you make John encounter Marie. You did this. You killed him! She killed Stevie, and now you killed John. Great work. A murderous mastermind and his murderess girlfriend."

John was now unconscious; additional medics brought a gurney and carried him outside to an idling ambulance. Alec was invited to jump inside and ride along to the hospital. He sat next to John and an EMT and stared down at his phone.

Marie, unaware of the sudden situation, had just texted him a selfie of her in her dressing room.

Alec massaged his head and tried to keep breathing.

"C'mon, you sonofabitch," he growled at his sleeping friend. "You has to do this today, of all days? Sabotage our second shot at Tardan? I'll never get over this. Never."

The EMT, a middle-aged man with a New York accent, said, "Keep doing that. That helps. Keep talking to him. Anything you gotta say."

Paulson was now texting. He was following in the limo. A Tardan producer was texting as well, asking for updates. Alec ignored them all.

A machine connected to John began chirping maniacally, then screaming an alarm.

"What's that?!" Alec yowled. "What does that mean?!"

The EMT jumped to work, monitoring data and fiddling with the machine.

"How close are we to the hospital?!" Alec yelled. "What's happening? Is he dying?!"

"Almost there," the EMT answered in a stable, even tone. His very aura exuded confidence and safety. It wasn't enough to shut Alec's Worry up.

"You killed him," the Worry observed with certainty. "Dead, dead, dead. Just like his little brother. Who're you going for next? His parents?"

What came next was a kaleidoscope of swirls and colors, muted sounds, and suspended emotions.

Bright overhead lights, jogging nurses, vague replies by people in white coats, cloudy stares from guests each waiting in their own news.

Then a closed door, a nurse directing him back to the waiting area, where journalists and band personnel were already flowing in.

Alec was suddenly encased in a people-dense bubble of well-wishers and assistants, all desirous of reducing panic any way they could. He was handed a bottle of water, escorted to a plastic bucket seat, and asked a dozen times how he was feeling.

"I'm not feeling anything," he lied, "until I get to punch my buddy in the mouth for doing this to me."