I stopped reading after that. I didn’t want to know any more, even though the article went on like that for another four pages. I felt sick to my stomach. My knees felt weak and I knew if I tried to stand up at that moment, I wouldn’t make it but a couple of steps. Just as my luck would have it, Skip walked out of his office. I didn’t even know he was there. “Becca, can I see you for a sec?”
I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. Why did he always want to see me? I closed the magazine over and set it back on the table, hiding it under the latest Billboard. I waddled over to Skip’s office and very carefully went inside, as so not upset my stomach any further. Skip motioned for me to sit down and I plopped down in the chair, thankful that I didn’t have to stand.
“Becca,” he began, “we’ve been doing some talking.” Oh how I hated those words. “This station is just not equipped to handle a DJ of your...status.” My status my foot. He just didn’t want a dike for a DJ, that’s all there was to it. “We think it best if you left the station.” I didn’t even blink at him. Leave? What did he think I was, nuts? But then again, because I was an intern, they could terminate me with no reason given and I would be powerless against it.
I sighed. I really didn’t want to leave the station, but I knew if I didn’t, it would only be a matter of time before they fired me. “Is this about the article?” I asked.
Skip folded his hands on his desk. “The long and the short answer is yes. We know it wasn’t your doing, but we can’t have all the negative publicity that you seem to continually be bringing in.” I sighed. I knew it was a futile battle. I was going to walk out of that office that day unemployed and I knew it. And Skip knew I knew it too. “So, Becca. You wanna resign and save some face here?” That was a threat: either resign or be fired your choice.
What choice did I have? I wanted to be able to use this job as experience that might help me get a paying DJ job some day. If I was fired, they’d all be asking why and I wouldn’t be able to give answers to future employers. I sighed and shrugged my shoulders. “I guess I resign,” I said wearily.
Skip got this look of relief on his face as I said that. I could tell that he really didn’t want to fire, nor did he want to lose me, but I’m sure the big guys wanted me as far away from there as possible. I was allowed to collect my things and phone Andy. Naturally he was distraught, but I knew he would get over it. Me, well, I had just lost my job, been publicly humiliated and betrayed by my girlfriend. As soon as the issue hit newsstands, I was a goner.
When I finally made it home, I was physically sick. I don’t know how I had managed to inch my way out of the office and into my car, but somehow I did. And then getting home was something I truly didn’t remember. I stripped out of my clothes and crawled into bed, ignoring the blinking light on my answering machine. I knew who it must be: Krystal. Probably wanting to apologize about the article or something. Well I didn’t want to hear it. I just wanted to go to sleep and wake up to find out that it was all a dream.
When I woke up about six hours later, I still felt weak, but managed to make it to the phone to press the answering machine button just to stop the infernal blinking. The first message went like this:
“Hey Becca, its Brian. I just wanted to apologize for what I said in the article. They called me when this whole thing first started and I wasn’t comfortable with it. I was told it was for an expose on homosexuality and the rock industry. I didn’t think they’d keep that quote for so long. Anyway, I hope you don’t hate me too much. You know I don’t care, right? Call me soon.”
I blinked. I didn’t even know Brian had said anything in the article. But then again I had only read a few paragraphs. At least he had the nerve to apologize. But why was he the first one? If Krystal were supposed to be my girlfriend, wouldn’t she have been the first one on the answering machine? The machine beeped and went into the next message which was from Mookie.
“Becca, its Mook. Have you heard from Krystal yet? I’ve been trying to reach her for about an hour now with no luck. We’ve all read the article and I have contacted a lawyer about our legal rights in this. I know my girl and I know she wouldn’t say those things. If you hear from her, Becca, have her call me okay?”
I thought about what Mookie had said in that message. Could there really be legal action taken against Rolling Stone, the premiere music magazine? The next message was from Andy.
“Becca, I wanted to tell you that I quit the station. You are by far one of the most talented on air personalities I have worked with and maybe we can find a radio station somewhere that will thrive on the controversy. I hear there’s an opening at KIIS FM in Los Angeles as a midnight to five person. Might be fun. Call me if you’re interested.”
That surprised me. I never expected Andy to quit. I had been a helpless paid intern, he had been a full time producer. And what was he saying about KIIS FM. They were the “make or break” station in the west. They had the ability to literally make or break an artist. And LA was the number 2 ratings zone in the nation. I couldn’t just move up a hundred and fifty spots, could I? I knew Andy had all my tapes from my shows because he had been working on burning them to CD. It could be a major chance for me.
There were other messages after Andy’s, mainly from the other Backstreet Boys expressing their sorrow for what had been said and also their own anger. In the end, it was just those messages, nothing from Krystal at all. I was disappointed that she hadn’t called, yet at the same time could see why. I was terribly upset with her, even though by all the messages I had received, I should be upset with the magazine. Just as I was about to go crawl back into bed and cry whatever was left of the day away when the phone rang. I stood there in front of it, letting it ring until the machine picked up.
“Hey Becca, its Mook.”
Before Mookie could continue, I picked up the phone. “Hey Mookie, what’s up?” I sniffed.
“Hey, you’re there!” he exclaimed.
“Yeah, I’m here.”
I heard him sigh on the other end. “Have you heard from Krystal at all?” he inquired.
“No,” I replied, attempting to hide my own remorse.
“No one can track her down,” he told me. “She disappeared this morning and her cell phone’s off or she’s just not answering it. I’m worried about her.”
I sighed this time. I really didn’t need to know that she was missing. That was the last thing on my mind. I wanted to wallow in my own hurt not worry about her, of all people. “If I hear from her Mookie, I’ll have her call you, okay?” I choked out. I was on the verge of tears, the first real set I had cried yet.
“Oh, babe, I’m sorry. She hurt you, didn’t she? With what was said?”
“You could say that.”
I heard him shuffle some papers before continuing. “I know my girl. She didn’t say those things, especially about you. She loves you. She won’t stop talking half the time about you. Ask any of the guys. They hate it when you’re not around because it means they have to put up with her blabbing about you. Becca, don’t believe it. Trust me, she didn’t say what the article said she did.”
I broke down then. The tears overflowed my eyes. Flowing faster and faster, they fell before I had a chance to wipe them away. I didn’t say anything to Mookie; I couldn’t. “Becca,” he said on the other end of the phone, “we’re flying there to do some damage control. If you hear from Krys, tell her to meet us at your place.”
“How are you going to curb this one Mookie? And why here?” I said through my tears.
“Babe, we’ll get to the bottom of this. First thing’s first we’re going to find out about that article.”
I stopped really paying attention after that. Mook went on about lawyers and legal stuff I didn’t really care about. He told me not to worry about picking the six of them up at the airport; that they would either get a taxi or rent a car. It didn’t even dawn on me until after I had hung up that they were coming to my place to sort this whole thing out. As I sat there on the couch, it hit me as strange that they were coming to my place to do damage control. Wouldn’t that be better done there in Los Angeles? Where Rolling Stone’s offices actually were?
I ran around frantically trying to tidy up my mess of a house, even though I really didn’t care if the guys and Mook saw it. They had seen it this bad before with the dishes in the sink and the magazines and stuff strewn about. But I was nervous. What were we going to discuss? What if Krystal showed up?
