The Last Blues We're Ever Gonna Have

Chapter 5

"For fucks sake," Beck grumbled, nudging Jem to call his attention away from his conversation with Steve. Jem looked over at him in confusion and Beck nodded his head over to the entrance of the bar. He watched as Jem's gaze slid from his face to the entrance, narrowing when he noticed the reason for Beck's curse.
It was hard to miss the tall, lanky figure of Luxe's PA, and her auburn hair cast a gold halo in the lighting of the bar. If she was here than that meant-
"Is that Gigi?" Wendy asked, her attention tuned to what had soured Beck and Jem's mood. "Yep. There's Luxe, too." Luxe was harder to spot, her short stature easily blocked by the many patrons milling around the busy establishment as they made their way towards the bar. Beck could only see the top of her blonde ponytail at the top of her head, but he knew it was her.
"What the fuck are they doing here?" Jem grumbled.
"Of all the gin joints in all the world," Steve snickered, his dark brown eyes sparking with mischief. Beck turned a baleful glare at him. "What? I mean, it's kinda fitting. This is a huge city. What are the odds that they'd pick this place to come to?"
"Or, she and Gigi overheard us yesterday talking about coming here for a drink," Wendy offered, shaking her head, her shoulder length mousy brown hair swinging in her face. "I still don't understand why the two of you hate her so much." Beck grunted, not particularly interested in answering. He personally didn't have a grudge against Luxe, it was Jem who couldn't stand her and he didn't exactly wax poetic about all the ways he didn't like her. Unless you counted all the times he muttered under his breath about shit attitudes, and a waste of screen time.
Luxe was a talented actress, there was no denying it. Even during her first few weeks, she was easily able to fall into character while taping, she showed up to rehearsals on time, obviously came prepared, took criticism well. But she always held herself somewhat aloof. They'd been working together for more than a year and no one really could say that they knew her, beyond her work ethic. And that she had a damn sharp tongue. None of which was anything Beck have a shit about.
She was soft featured, fair skinned, full lipped, had nice tits, a habit of blushing when she was flustered, a decent ass, with those big doe eyes that seemed to pierce straight through anyone's bullshit. If she were any girl on the street, Beck wouldn't have hesitated to attempt to sweet talk his way into her pants for a night, regardless of Jem's opinion of her. But after his last excursion into inter office fucking hadn't ended especially well, Beck supposed that starting some kind of anything with Luxe was probably not a smart idea. Besides, she seemed like the kind of girl who expected pretty words and promises to call the next day, neither of which were things Beck have to anyone.
Beck blew an errant piece of hair out of his face. He wasn't particularly fond of the length, but he couldn't cut it because Mark wanted his character to have long hair, since he was supposed to be the brooding and somewhat rebellious team member. Thankfully, it was now long for him to tie back in a ponytail, keeping it out of his face for the most part. But in the heavy California summer heat, his thick hair was annoying. His eyes slid covetously over to Jem's much shorter locks. When they'd been younger, Jem had been the one with the shaggy hair-his dark blonde locks sun bleached like every other California boy, and Beck had kept his cropped short. He watched as Jem scratched at the back of his head before fishing a toothpick out from his pocket and popping it into his mouth, something he did when he really wanted a cigarette but wasn't anywhere he could smoke.
"I just," Jem started, chewing hard on the poor toothpick, and Beck knew he was about to begin ranting. "The fact that she's part of the show pisses me off. I hate her fuckin' character. I hate her character's arc, I hate that the writers think we need her shit story. I hate that they're using her for some stupid romantic subplot bullshit that the viewers all end up hating..I just...can't fucking stand...her." Jem sighed. Beck cocked an eyebrow in surprise but said nothing.
"What about you, Beck?" Wendy asked, turning her attention back to him. Beck looked at her and shrugged.
"I don't care either way about her, except that I'm glad that she wears tighter pants this season instead of skirts and slacks. Other than that, I don't know shit about her." Steve snorted into his beer, shaking his head. Beck bared his teeth in a smile.
"Remember when she freaked out about one of her scenes where her character is choked in her first official season with us?" Wendy said distractedly, drumming her fingernails on her beer bottle. Jem nodded.
"Yeah. Like, absolutely flipped out on the fight coordinator, wouldn't even consider rehearsing it. They had to rewrite the scene and come up with a new fight sequence. Like, what a fucking prima donna!"
"Dude, our sound guy, Carl, said he worked with someone who was part of the music video she was in," Steve, added, leaning over the table top. "He said that she completely flipped out on a guy when he grabbed her arm to get her attention. Like, tore him a brand new asshole."
"What the fuck, I'm telling you, she's got some kind of damage," Jem said snidely.
"Maybe she just doesn't like people grabbing her without permission," Beck said quietly, staring down at the grain of the wooden tabletop. From the corner of his vision he saw Jem's face pale slightly. He seemed to deflate some, but made no attempt at retracting his statement. Beck knew he'd apologize later. He always did. He swore Jem carried that guilt in his back fucking pocket.
"You sure it's not just because she doesn't throw herself at you like every other woman, Jem?" Steve teased, grunting when Wendy elbowed his side.
"I'm fairly certain that I've never 'thrown myself' at him in the time that I've known him," she spoke, using her fingers to mock Steve's comment. She tossed her hair over her shoulder, pale blue eyes rolling.
"No, but she threw her coffee on him though," Beck snickered, thinking back to Luxe's first day. Jem whirled on him.
"Yeah, but I was the one who Mark bitched at for it," he grumbled.
"Dude, I'm not fucking worried. Her character is just going to be fodder for some half-assed love interest. And then the viewers will start hating her. After that she'll be gone. That's how it always goes. Vaughn just wants us all to make nice until that happens. He actually told me to start being nicer to her last week," Beck laughed, peeling the corner of the label on his beer.
"Incoming," Wendy interrupted, clearing her throat and casting her eyes behind Jem and Beck. Beck turned his head just in time to watch a determined looking Gigi forcing her way between patrons, towing Luxe by the hand behind her.
"Fifty bucks says they fuck each other," Beck remarked to only Jem. He grunted in response, but made no move to turn and look. Beck turned back around to face the table, lifting his beer to his lips and drinking deeply, wondering what Luxe's smart mouth sounded like when she came.