Lifeline
Chapter Seven: Riot
Stormer made her way downstairs slowly, her expression thoughtful. Her
common
sense told her that had Pizzazz been functioning on all cylinders, the
confessions
of the last few minutes would never have been aired, for her bandmate
was
very proud. Somehow, though, she was glad it had happened.
"Perhaps finally we've found our common ground." She mused to herself.
"It's
kinda a relief in some ways to know why it is she hates me...if she
still
hates me. Perhaps we'll even be friends now...well, sort of friends,
anyway."
She smiled, pushing open the door of the kitchen. "I understand more
now,
anyway. Oh, I hope Harvey does pull through! Pizzazz needs him more
than
either of them ever realised."
She opened the cupboard, scanning the contents for something quick and
easy
to make, finally settling on soup as a simple meal. Stifling a yawn of
her
own as she cooked, she decided that once she'd eaten she'd head to bed
herself.
It had been a long week, and she still had to call Roxy and give her
the
latest news on the situation. She hoped that her two rival bandmates
had
not torn chunks out of each other in her absence. Carefully pouring the
remains
of the soup into a thermos to keep in case Pizzazz was hungry when she
woke,
she headed into the main lounge, sitting down in an armchair and
reaching
for the day's newspaper.
As she sat there, trying her best to unwind there was a knock on the
door.
Curious, Stormer got to her feet to answer it, setting her mug down on
the
sideboard. Wishing, not for the first time that Pizzazz had not lost
her
temper with the house staff, she made her way into the hall as there
was
a second knock, both impatient and forceful.
Stormer scowled.
"Okay, I'm coming, keep it down." she snapped, undoing the latch and
swinging
open the big oak door. Her frown changed to surprise and concern,
however,
when she registered the visitor.
"Riot!" She exclaimed.
"Where's Pizzazz?" Riot did not look pleased, and he was in the
building before
Stormer realised what was going on.
"She's asleep." The synth player regained her composure. "What do you
want?"
"What do I want?" Riot demanded. "Fifty percent of one of my music
company's
main acts has gone AWOL across America and you ask me what I want?
We've
a concert tomorrow night, or had you forgotten that?"
"We hadn't forgotten. We're just not doing it, as I'm sure Roxy and
Jetta
have told you." Stormer said matter-of-factly.
"What do you mean, you're not doing it?" Riot was almost speechless
with
rage.
"Exactly what I said." Stormer folded her arms, her natural obstinate
streak
rising to the fore, for she had never liked Riot's arrogance and
conceit,
and she was in no mood to be polite. "We have other things to deal
with."
"Listen to me, Stormer." Riot sounded irritated. "I want to speak to
Pizzazz,
not one of her hangers-on. She - you - have an obligation, and..."
"No, you listen to me." Stormer interrupted, too tired
and
emotional to be intimidated or cooperative. "Stop thinking of yourself
for
once and take into account that Harvey Gabor is critically ill in
hospital. Pizzazz can't leave DC...and I'm not going either, not
without her."
"Look, the old man isn't dead yet." Riot pointed out with a careless
shrug.
"Her inheritance isn't going to be jeopardised if she takes out a day
to
do a show...it isn't as if he's going to know about it, and if she
really
wants to she can dedicate the thing to him. This is business, Stormer,
and
everyone across America knows that her being here is only a publicity
stunt."
"Do they?" Stormer's eyes narrowed. "And what if you're wrong, Riot?
What
if Pizzazz is genuinely worried about him?"
"Pizzazz? Oh, yes, that would be a coup." Riot was scornful. "The only
thing
Pizzazz is interested in is Phyllis Gabor. Sure, it looks good that
she's
here and the press have been having a field day over it - I must say,
very
clever. But it's time to end the charade. If he's going to die, then
he'll
die and she'll get what's due her. She doesn't need to be flitting
around
DC like a lost soul while she waits for it to happen."
"Why you..." Rage flared in Stormer's heart and before she knew what
she
was doing she had slapped him around the face, a fierce protective
instinct
aroused in her heart towards the Misfits' lead singer. "I don't know
what
women see in you, I really don't - least of all Pizzazz. She's way too
good
to be messed about by a nothing like you! You're the most arrogant,
shallow,
egocentric man I ever laid eyes on! And, for your information, you're
not
even attractive!"
"Don't you raise your hand to me!" Riot was angry and he grabbed
her
wrist, his eyes flashing dangerously. "You're nothing in the
music
business, Stormer! You're barely even a Misfit, Heaven knows why
Pizzazz
keeps you on! I could terminate your contract in an instant, so don't
get
cocky with me. Your career might rely on it!"
"Hang my career." Stormer snapped. "There are things more important
than
money, you know. And I got more musical ability in my little finger
than
your two flunkies have put together! Do you wanna know why
Pizzazz
keeps me on, Riot? Well, I'll tell you why! I write the songs,
I put together the lyrics so they fit the tune, I mastermind
the
music. So you better be careful who you sack, else you might find
yourself making a loss!"
The sarcasm and disgust in her tone was so uncharacteristic of the
normally
meek musician that for a moment Riot just stared at her blankly. Then
he
smirked.
"You? Write the songs? You must think I was born yesterday." He
said
derisively. "You're barely more than a kid!"
"I'm twenty two!"
"Stop it!"
A fresh voice joined the heated debate, and both parties turned to face
the
staircase. Pizzazz stood halfway down the stairs, a strange expression
on
her face. For once she had taken little care with her appearance, for
she
was not made up, and her hair was tousled from her attempt at napping.
"Stop
screeching in my house! Some of us are trying to sleep!"
"I only came to tell you to be in L.A by tomorrow midday, that's all."
Riot
turned his back on Stormer, addressing the singer alone, and it was all
the
synth player could do to keep from poking her tongue out at her foe.
"It's
time this silly charade stopped and you returned to the real world. You
know
that your father is too ill to change his will, so there really is no
need
for it. You'd do better to obey your contractual obligations and return
home
for the concert tomorrow."
"I see." Pizzazz's voice was strangely quiet. "And if we're not there?"
"I don't anticipate that to be an outcome." Riot said levelly. "I
control your contract and I say you should be there, so you really have
little choice
in the matter."
"Oh?" A spark of the old, resiliant Pizzazz flared up in the tired
green
eyes. "Is that so?"
Slowly she advanced down the stairs to meet him.
"You know it is."
"Well, let me see." Pizzazz offered him a benign smile. "Now, we could
do
as you say, pack and fly home like good little Misfits, couldn't we,
Stormer?"
"I..." Stormer looked confused. "But in an instant the singer's
expression had changed.
"Or you could take your threats and your arrogant fat head and get the
hell
off my property before I call the police!" She hissed, jabbing
him
in the chest with a sharp, perfectly painted nail. "Now, you listen to
me,
and listen good. You might think you have some power over me, but you
don't,
all right? I play games by one set of rules only - mine - and I just
got
bored with you and your demands! Do whatever the hell you want! If you
kick
us off your books, well then, I'll set up my own company and run you
outta
town! So don't tell me what to do!"
"You have a contract! Stingers Sound can sue!"
"Do I look like I care?" Pizzazz shot back. "Riot, honey, I've turned
down
better lawyers than you and that creep Raymond could ever get
together!"
She leant closer, stroking his cheek with her hand.
"Don't play with fire. You might get burned." She murmured. "Now get
out,
okay? And don't come crawling to me for favours, either. The Misfits
play
when I say they do, where I say they do. You got that?"
"We'll see." Riot's eyes narrowed. "You're forgetting, Pizzazz, that
you
don't have money to hand just like that and your father is in no fit
state
to sign the cheque."
"And you're forgetting, Riot, that while Father is sick I effectively
control the finances." Pizzazz returned. "Not many people are gonna
argue with me, now are they? So you watch your step...it
doesn't pay to mess
with me."
Riot muttered something unrepeatable under his breath. Then, highly
indignant,
he stormed out, slamming the door behind him.
For a moment the two Misfits just stared at each other. Then Pizzazz
sank
down onto the bottom step with a sigh.
"Creep." she murmured absently.
"Think he'll cause any other trouble?" Stormer was anxious.
"Yeah, probably he'll go running to Eric to tell tales." Pizzazz
shrugged. "I hope he don't push the contract thing. I was bluffing when
I said I controlled
Daddy's money...I don't. That would only happen if...well, if I
inherited."
"It won't come to that." Stormer told her, coming to sit beside her.
"Your
father will get better, and once you tell him how Riot's been treating
you
I'm sure he'll help somehow."
"Think he'd even care?"
"Of course." Stormer nodded. "You'll see. Hey, since you're up, want
some
soup?"
"Why not." Pizzazz rolled her eyes heavenwards. "You know, you can be
pretty
spunky. I never thought you'd go for him like that."
Stormer blushed.
"You saw?"
"Sure I did. I was gonna interrupt sooner but I wanted to see what
happened."
"He made me mad." The younger girl admitted. "I didn't mean to hit him,
it
just happened."
"Hey, don't worry about it. Only wish I'd done it myself, and a lot
sooner."
Pizzazz said ruefully. "You know I hate it when someone else is
right...but
Riot is a jerk and I should've seen it from the start. God knows what I
thought
I was doing...but it's okay now. It's gone."
"Thank God for that." Stormer smiled. "It wasn't like you to act that
way...none
of us liked it much."
"Well, it was you yellin' at him as you did that made me realise what a
creep
he was. Kinda woke me up some." Pizzazz admitted. "Maybe you should get
mad
more often. I like you better now I know you got a spine."
Stormer laughed, leading the way into the kitchen to retrieve the
thermos of soup, and pouring her companion a mug.
"I guess I'm not a total wimp after all." She said quietly.
"No, guess you ain't." Pizzazz agreed. "Guess you are a proper
Misfit.
Who woulda thought meek li'l Mary could be such a wildcat? I
wouldn't've missed
seein' that for the world." She took a sip of the drink. "Mm. Good
soup.
Guess I didn't realise I was hungry till now." She cast Stormer a
questioning
glance. "No phonecalls?"
"No...you've barely been asleep at all." Stormer replied. "Nothing
yet."
"No news is good news, I guess." Pizzazz stifled a yawn. "God, I'm
beat.
I'm goin' back to bed...I'm not thinkin' or actin' like myself right
now.
Maybe when I wake up, things will be clearer, and I'll feel more
myself. I'm
blitzed." She drained the mug, setting it down on the counter. "Night,
Stormer.
Lemme know if anything happens."
"You know I will." Stormer nodded. "Sweet dreams, Pizzazz...let's hope
this
time noone comes knocking!"
"They'd better not." Pizzazz rolled her eyes. "Else I'll show 'em what
I
think of it!"
With that she was gone, and Stormer smiled. Though no news had come
from
the hospital, somehow she felt better about the situation.
Maybe, just maybe, things were going to be okay.
Chapter One: The Magazine
Chapter Two: A Phone Call
Chapter Three: Washington DC
Chapter Four: Harvey Gabor
Chapter Five: Answering To Eric
Chapter Six: Breaking Down
Chapter Seven: Riot
Chapter Eight: A Change Of Luck
Chapter Nine: Harvey's Proposal
Chapter Ten: A Cunning Plan
Chapter Eleven: As It Should Be
(The Misfits and Holograms and other animated Jem
characters are copyrighted to Hasbro Inc. All characters who do not
appear in Jem episodes
are my own creation. This story is copyrighted to E.A Woolley (2001)