To Love And Be Loved

Chapter 12

There were no fireworks or parades or stars falling from the sky to announce the pilot of The Vic Unplugged. Three guys bearing an assortment of cameras had knocked on his doors that morning and he greeted them with his early morning smile. Unfortunately, they were happy to see him with his early morning breath and scattered hair.

Freaks.

Then Seyi arrived, she took one look at the apartment and shook her head.

"What's wrong?" he asked. "I've lived here for almost a year and I'm still human."

"The whole world is going to see where The Vic spends his night. This looks like an unfurnished college dorm," said Seyi. She had blood red nails, probably an inch long.

Three hours later, Davies arrived and was tasked to do the magic of transformation. Now there were futuristic looking couches and a large sleek black TV on the newly painted walls. There was also a large painting of the San Fransisco skyline. The bed was remade with soft linen sheets and there was a bookshelf, ceiling high, filled with all the books he never had time to read. Now, the studio apartment looked more like a bachelor's pad.

It was a very boring morning but Seyi insisted they start filming.

"You don't worry," she had said. "Just be yourself."

They started when he was arguing with Yvonne. Then another argument with Jones his producer, after he emailed him the final cut of his song. Victor opened his email and played the attachment, Jones was on the phone on speaker.

"It's too funky," said Victor. "It sounds like a five year old's birthday party."

"Well, if you'll just..." Jones began.

"No no no. I'll be coming to the studio after the first part of my tour."

He heard Jones curse and he smiled, he was sure the microphones got it.
"

It sounds like the chorus in a Christmas carol. I didn't become The Vic by singing Hallelujah in falsetto," said Victor.

Yvonne snorted behind him. She was sitting cross legged in a futuristic looking chair that was a mix between a sofa and a pod.

Where the hell did Davies get those? Yvonne looked very comfortable in front of the cameras, barely acknowledging their presence. "Or the national anthem in falsetto," she said.

Jones blew out his breath, it was loud on speaker. "Alright then, have a safe trip."

"Goodbye Jones." Victor cut the line. He suddenly wished Sam was there with him. He saw Seyi behind the cameras, she had a look on her face as if he was a slab of meat on the butcher's table and she was the buyer.

"Cut," said one of the crew. "That's a wrap."

Victor followed Seyi to her car. The crew were going to begin filming in another three hours. Being on camera was exhausting work, he had to admit.

Seyi's blue Cadillac was parked next to his Mustang. "Did you know that the Ford Mustang GT sprints to sixty meter per hour in four seconds?" he asked.

She raised her head from the black tablet she was typing on and smiled at him. "No, I didn't. Thank you for this very useful piece of information. Take a look at this," she said, thrusting the tablet at Victor's chest.