The next morning I woke in Jimmy's tight embrace near the fire. I was the first one awake, unable to breathe from sleeping on the floor so near the fireplace. Evening that day had come swiftly, and with it came work. Joe Massot, a man who I was told had filmed the boys' performances at Madison Square Garden in New York in the summer for a full feature-length movie to be released in years to come, had arrived shortly after three with a full camera crew, doubly as unprofessional as he seemed. Though I had my doubts as to his photography prowess, I forced myself to say nothing and sat in the foreground as he, Peter, and Jimmy discussed what they were going to do, John Paul hanging around to polish off some tea.
They were to shoot Jimmy's "dream-scene," as Joe described it. "I don't know exactly what you want to do for your scene, you need to map it out for us."
"Well," Jimmy began in his soft-spoken voice, "I figure when darkness hits, which, around here, is six, I want to go off and climb that hill backing my house and reach for a hermit standing over the edge using just the full moon as light."
"We may have some troubles with that," Joe pondered aloud. "I don't want to climb that hill to film you; it's icy and I've got a family."
"We've all got a family," I snapped. "But we all do our jobs."
Joe glared toward me and replied evenly, "I'm sure your boss loves that you're taking time off to diddle around with a band you're not even part of, miss."
"Hey," Jimmy interjected, pointing toward Joe.
"I'm sure your boss loves that you're not willing to do your job because you're afraid to climb a little mountain." I crossed my arms and legs in contempt.
"I am my own boss," he hissed.
"Likewise." I looked around at Peter and said to him, implying to Joe, "Why would you even hire someone who doesn't want to do their job?"
"Lets stop this," John Paul muttered softly, his tea clamped between his freezing hands. "Joe, just do the shoot. Jenni, go out and look for some wood with Robert and Bon, will you? Richard just left for a Todd Rundgren tour and we're down on hands for wood."
I frowned and shot Jimmy a cross look before getting up without a word and leaving. I rolled my eyes and stormed into the living room where my boots roasted beside the fire. I grabbed them and slipped them on, surprised and welcomed by the heat, before stomping outside to labor for no reason other than that the guys were mad at me for speaking the truth.
♫♪♫♪♫♪♫♪♫♪♫
"You know he's going to go back to ignoring you when we get back to Henderson Collige," Robert warned as he dug for wood on the mountainside beside the house. "Charlotte'll be out and he'll go back to Bianca."
"No, not Jimmy," I reassured myself. More to Robert, "He'll tell Bianca how he feels, I know he will. Why would you lie? Why would he act like he likes me now if he's just going back to Bia?"
"He's a lady-killer, Jen," Robert concluded. "It'll have to end now or Bianca will find out and move."
"I can't live at Henderson Collige without Bianca! We've been friends since secondary school!"
"My point," Robert nodded. "Bon!"
"Yeah?" Bonzo's voice called from the near distance.
"What's your bet on the whole Jimmy-Jenni-Bianca schpeil?"
There was a pause as the whole sentence carried across the distance. "Team Pam!" he shouted back.
Robert laughed and explained, "Miss Pam from LA. No, Bon, not an option!"
"He'll leave them all! Lady-killing bastard!"
Robert cocked his head toward me and I pursed my lips in a far-away manner, offset by the possibility that Jimmy's compassion could very well be boredom. No, it couldn't be boredom, Jimmy loved me, I was sure of it. If not love, he really felt passionately for me. Sure, my brain knew better, saying that everything was just going too quickly for reality, but I wanted to follow my heart. How was it going to be, going back to Henderson Collige?
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