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CHAPTER TWELVE - Personal Assistant


Interview 2002

We all have masks, you know. I think you have a…a personality for work, you have a personality for friends, for acquaintances, or whatever. And I think it’s a lot to ask for a public person…a performer, to try to let as many of those down as possible…


April 1997


Miss Willow Rosenberg showed up at the studio earlier than was expected of her. Mostly because she wanted to give a good impression on her first day on the job. She had to admit to herself that she was slightly nervous about working for the lead singer of Acid Reign. Especially since her previous experiences dealing with rock stars left a sour taste in her mouth.

Egotistical was one word that came to her mind about those rock stars. Well, the nicest word… She knew her mother probably wouldn’t have approved of her judging a man before she ever really met the guy, but she couldn’t stop herself.

But, really, there was a reason there were stereotypes to begin with.

Then, of course, there was the question of why she was even doing this job if she already knew she hated it. Then, followed by the question of why she would accept this job if she didn’t like the people she’d have to work with. The answer, however, was simple.

She needed money. And she wanted to work in the music industry. And in order to get anywhere, you had to start somewhere.

Even if that somewhere was fetching a stuck-up rock star a glass of water, a towel, or whatever else he demanded, no matter how humiliating it was for her.

Willow found herself in the to the lobby/sitting area of the studio. The only other person there was a petite blond woman. She was sitting on the sofa, legs curled under her, magazine on her lap. She was nursing a diet coke.

When she heard the door open and Willow enter, she looked up and gave a polite smile.

“Hello,” she greeted.

Willow answered with a similar greeting.

“You’re…Willow, right?”

She gave a nod, “Yep. That’s me.”

The blond nodded and stood up, “Good. My name’s Buffy. William told me he was expecting you.”

“William?” Willow didn’t remember anyone named that.

Buffy smiled and gave a small eye roll, “You probably know him as Spike. He keeps insisting people call him that. But, I don’t think so. No way am I calling my husband ‘Spike.’”

“Oh.”

Okay, so this guy was already starting to sound like a walk in the park.

“Come on, I’ll take you on back. The band’s already started rehearsing for today.”

Willow followed Buffy to the back where there were various recording rooms, all sound-proofed. Most were empty. But one had the band, in the middle of a rundown of a song.

Buffy and Willow stood outside the door as they waited for them to finish, not wanting to interrupt.

Suddenly, Spike stepped away from the microphone, shaking his head.

Buffy took that as her cue and opened the door.

“No,” Spike was saying to the band. “Nope…not bloody feelin’ it. Don’t know what’s wrong.”

Angel set his guitar down and went over to the drummer, speaking to him quietly, giving him some tips. It was clear there was some kind of nonverbal connection between Angel and Spike. While Spike couldn’t voice what he was finding wrong, Angel seemed to know exactly what it was and went over to correct it.

Acid Reign was in the middle of a rigorous rehearsal schedule and they began their preparations for the promotion of their debut album in England. It was a stressful time. And a busy time. Shortly after they got back home to England, they began work on releasing their second single. And watched it soar to the top of the national charts. A month later, that song that was on moderate rotation in the US was officially released by Columbia, becoming their first US single, and steadily climbed the Billboard charts. Last month, their third single, and first love song, was released in England…and again, they had a national number one hit under their belts.

Singles had been released, and music videos had been made. Magazine interviews had been conducted.

And, just last week, their first album was released in England, debuting at number one on the Brit charts. It was set for release in the rest of the world next week. To say that it was an unbelievable experience was an understatement. Finally, after years of being turned down or told they didn’t stand a chance, Acid Reign seemed to set to rule the music world. They had taken the world by storm.

It was the kind of thing that could easily go to one’s head. Which was Willow’s primary concern.



Spike, noticing Buffy and Willow, turned to the band, saying, “Let’s, uh, let’s take a break.”

He approached Buffy and pulled her close, dropping a kiss to her lips, “Hey, pet.”

“Hey, yourself,” she said, smiling as they broke apart. She turned to Willow, “This is Willow. You asked me to show her in when she showed up?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I gotta go. The professor’s going to mad at me if I don’t get those papers graded.”

“Okay. See you at home tonight,” Spike said, giving her another quick kiss.

“Count on it.” Buffy moved away from him and looked at Willow on her way, “Nice meeting you. Sorry I can’t stay.”

“Oh, no,” Willow said. “It’s okay. I’m sure I’ll manage on my own.”

“I’m sure you will.” She leaned in to whisper conspiratorially, “Don’t let his bad boy looks tell you otherwise, but, really, he’s a big teddy bear.”

“Oi. I can you hear you, pet.”

Buffy turned to look at him, grinning widely. “What?” she asked innocently.

“I’ll take care of you when I get home,” he said, smirking.

“Promises, promises,” Buffy said as she exited the room.

Spike chuckled quietly, shaking his head, before looking at Willow. She was surprised by the sudden appearance of a shy young man. It was something that simply didn’t jar with her preconceived notions of a conceited rock star.

“Umm, Willow, right?”

She nodded, “That’s right.” She held her hand out. He took it and gave it a firm shake.

“So…” There was brief moment of silence before Spike gave a nervous laugh. “Sorry, love. Just not used to having someone to do things for me. Don’t know why the label thinks I even need someone. No offense.”

She gave a quick shake of her head, “No, it’s okay.” She couldn’t help but find herself liking this guy. Maybe they weren’t all assholes after all. “All you need to worry about is concentrating on your music. I’ll deal with everything else, okay?”

“Alright.”


Interview 2002

I really think I have…of course, there’s always going to be something to hold back. For a couple of reasons. One, I’m innately quite shy. If you can believe it. Two, if I give you everything right now, what else would there be for you to be interested in?


END CHAPTER TWELVE

Author's Notes: Please review and let me know what you think.





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