Nothing On but the Record

[Tanner Larson]

"Me?!"

Tanner Larson was sitting in his boss's office, an expression of unadulterated horror painted upon his face. Across a large wooden desk sat Madame Cynthia DeMato, owner of La Maison Magnifique, who had her feet up on her desk in a reclining position. She had just informed him that 'some kid' from Hammel wanted to write a story in the school newspaper about the House.

"Yeah, you," the woman replied, shrugging her shoulders. "Who else would it be?"

Tanner frowned. "Why is there a story at all?"

"He wants to profile the place," she explained, bringing a newspaper into her lap as though this conversation was not first on her mind. "Fluff piece. Could be good for business."

The blonde didn't seem satisfied. "So, again... why me?"

Cynthia looked up from her paper, but only briefly. "Because I trust you not to say something stupid. Besides, he wanted to follow someone around to get a sense of how the place works, and he wanted to come on a Thursday. So... you."

The blonde sighed; he didn't like this idea at all, but it was clear there was nothing he could do to change the woman's mind. "Well, when exactly is this interview?"

The brunette looked up at the clock mounted on her wall. "I don't know, like, five minutes?"

CYNTHIA.

---

Tanner was now sitting out in the main room, over by the bar; from there, he was able to see folks as they entered. Given that it was 8:30. a little while before the show started, it would be fairly obvious when this kid came in. He was dressed in a black tee shirt and jeans, which was usually the sort of thing he wore when he was onstage. He would be performing that night, but not until a bit after nine. He swirled a glass of Sprite around in his hand, as his eyes occasionally drifted to the doorway. He was not happy to be doing this, but he probably owed Cynthia a few favors by now. So he would give this kid what he wanted, and then be done with it.

Every kid at Hammel would probably be reading this stupid article. Fan-fucking-tastic.

[Amos Freeman]

Amos examined his wristwatch critically. It was 8:31.

He was wearing a heavy, fleece-lined grey hoodie and jeans that were faintly green in the knees from repeated grass stains. The worn soles of his tennis shoes were padding rhythmically on the sidewalk.

Not quickly, but rhythmically to be sure.

He stopped in front of La Maison Magnifique, which he identified by its relatively unassuming awning. Amos, who was familiar with burlesque only in the very distant and literary sense, had admittedly been expecting something else. What exactly, he couldn't say. Neon? Gaudy typography? Provocative illustrations of female striptease?

He wasn't really sure what he had gotten himself into, but he was five minutes late for it.

He twisted open the doorknob and let himself in.

[Tanner Larson]

Tanner wasn't really keeping track of the time; as far as he was concerned, the later this kid got here, the better, since he wouldn't have to talk to him as long before he had to go on. Ultimately, it was about five minutes past the half-hour that the blonde spotted from his perch by the bar a boy entering the main room who looked like he felt completely out of place. As it was, he wasn't exactly dressed for the occasion; most folks who came to a performance at least tried to make it look like they were going someplace classy. Not to mention the fact that he didn't look old enough to be there. But really, that was something they had in common.

Taking a final sip of his beverage - as though there was any alcohol in it - the boy gave a heavy sigh before hopping off his stool and heading over to the entryway. Might as well get this over with. "Uh, you must be here about the article," he said, extending a hand to shake and providing the visitor with the best perfunctory smile he could muster given his complete reluctance to participate in this article in any way. "I'm Tanner. I've been told you wanted to interview me?" He wasn't actually sure whether this boy knew he was going to be interviewing him, but that was what Cynthia had decreed, so here they were. "Here, why don't we go take a seat," he added, gesturing towards the tables in front of the stage. The place would start filling up, but it was probably better than sitting at the bar, as that was where everyone coming in would be grabbing a drink before the show started.

[Amos Freeman]

The inside of the House was, Amos had to admit, much more lively than the outside. His eyes scanned the room, noting the well-stocked bar and the careful choice of ambient lighting. He was halfway through jotting down a very poetic mental note about the occasional titter of laughter when he was approached by a young man who looked astonishingly like Chad Michael Murray.

He tilted his head slightly in polite acknowledgement while the other boy spoke. He introduced himself as Tanner. Amos's lips twitched at the corners.

"Amos Freeman," he murmured, taking Tanner's proffered hand and giving it an anemic shake. "Er, I spoke to Cynthia, I believe, on the phone. But, um, if you would consent to an interview, that would be great."

He fished around in the pocket of his jeans for a few moments before procuring a small black and silver object with several buttons.

"Do you mind if I record this conversation?"

He waved the voice recorder in the air for emphasis before taking a seat at the table that Tanner had indicated.

[Tanner Larson]

((Haha darling, you just hit my number one pet peeve: mentioning a character's playby in-character XD *shudders))

Amos. That name sounded very familiar. Didn't Juniper have a friend named Amos? He pondered this for a moment, concluding that it would be too much of a coincidence for this to be the same Amos. Although it wasn't a very common name... But no, this surely wasn't the kid about whom the girl was always prattling on.

After a somewhat unsatisfying handshake, Tanner led the boy over to one of the tables. The word 'consent' seemed odd to him; this kid clearly took his gig rather seriously. He didn't personally read the school newspaper, but he assumed most people did. "Yeah, that's fine," he said as he took a seat opposite the other boy.

He wasn't thrilled that Amos wanted to record the conversation, but that was more because he wasn't in love with the sound of his own voice; he obviously wasn't going to say anything he wouldn't want in the paper regardless of whether it was being recorded. "No problem," he stated simply, as he linked his fingers together on the table.

"So, uh, my name's Tanner Larson - L-A-R-S-O-N," he began. "I'm a student at Hammel. I'm 19 and, uh, I've been working here Thursdays since August." He figured the boy would want that sort of background information to start. What else he would want to know, Tanner could only wait and find out. He tried to be polite as he said these things, but if there was just the slightest trace of impatience in his voice, he would have to be forgiven; he was always a bit jittery right before he went onstage, and this wasn't how he had anticipated spending his time immediately before the show started. At any rate, it wasn't in his nature to be rude.

[Amos Freeman]

((You mean to tell me no one's ever mentioned the resemblance to the poor boy? Sorry; forgive my little joke.))

Now that Amos was free to look around the interior, he could see that he was under-dressed for the occasion. He thought about clarifying that he wasn't trying to be disrespectful (all of his clothes were secondhand, and out of his three pairs of pants, these were the nicest ones), but something about the atmosphere told him that wouldn't be well-received.

He supposed that keeping his insecurities to himself would not kill him.

Not immediately, at any rate, which was the important thing.

"Juney will be thrilled that we've, um, finally met," he said offhandedly, shifting into a more comfortable position at the table. His hand rested under his chin as his eyes flicked from his companion to the small pocket-sized notebook containing numerous pages full of his left-handed scrawl.

"And if you would be, erm, very kind," he murmured, making a vague hand gesture. "What is this, and what do you do in it? For the sake of the, um, curiosity of the public, I guess. It must be difficult to combat misconceptions in such a, um, small town."

[Tanner Larson]

Tanner's eyes flickered with recognition; so this was the oft-mentioned Amos. Juniper had mentioned off-hand one time that he was a cute kid, and he supposed she wasn't wrong. Still, if Cynthia saw him, she would have to resist the temptation to give him a new wardrobe. Actually, it occurred to him that she probably would want to meet him in person if they hadn't already; he didn't know much about what conversations had taken place before this.

"Oh, you know June?" He asked casually; he didn't necessarily need the boy knowing how often June spoke about him, but he was certainly flattered that she had mentioned himself to Amos. He couldn't help but wonder why, though it was probably for the same reason that she was constantly bringing up something Amos had said or done in front of him. For a time, he had been convinced they would end up dating, until he'd found out that he was dating some guy, and then she met Jeff, so that theory was out the window.

The blonde thought for a moment before giving a bit of a chuckle. "Yeah, I imagine folks probably have an impression of this place that's quite different from reality," he began. "What people should understand is that burlesque isn't what Hollywood would have you think. It's classier. It's more artful. It's singing, and dancing, and... performance stuff like that." He sighed, wishing he had finished that sentence a bit more articulately. "I sing. And dance. But not very much. Or very well." He wasn't sure why he had admitted that to the boy, but it was true, and he would probably see as much if he stuck around. "But the House has been around for quite a while, so I think by now people kind of 'get' it," he added, going back to the original question.

[Amos Freeman]

"She's my best friend," Amos murmured with a faint but not unkind half-smile, which was generally the greatest show of nicety he displayed to anyone other than the aforementioned.

He was trying to resist the urge to pick at his chapped lips with his teeth.

"So... only T-Thursdays?" Thursday was Amos's least favorite day of the week, because his speech impediment hardly ever allowed him to pronounce it without embarrassing himself. He cleared his throat and rubbed his hand absentmindedly over his neck. "How many people, erm, work with you, in the sense that they perform, sing, dance, like you? How would you say the atmosphere is, um, between you?"

In the few moments of silence that passed while he waited for an answer, he scanned the room again.

The place was certainly filling up.

[Tanner Larson]

Tanner nodded slightly at the boy's statement; it was probably just his perception, but it almost sounded slightly possessive, like a challenge for Tanner to defy that Amos was better friends with her than he was. It wasn't likely this was the intention, though; it was probably just Tanner's latent insecurity over the matter. He didn't really know what it was like to have a best friend. "Oh, good to know," he said, nodding his head more. "Well, it's nice to meet you, then." Should they be friends, too?

The blonde quirked an eyebrow upward as Amos asked if he only performed on Thursdays. The question sounded uneasy, the way he had sort of stammered. But he ignored this for now, figuring he had just imagined it. "Yeah, just Thursdays," he replied. "Those are Ladies' Nights, so the guys perform on Thursdays and it's mostly just girls performing Fridays and Saturdays." He thought about the next question. "There are usually, like, ten people who perform each night," he replied thoughtfully. "I don't really interact with them that much, since I don't perform in any group numbers or anything. But folks are generally pretty nice." At any rate, he hadn't met any obnoxious divas here - again, like Hollywood would have people think. "I usually spend more time with the girls, anyway." Eh, he wasn't a huge fan of the fact that he'd added that, but he'd felt inclined to fill the silence. That was how interviews worked, right?

"How long have you known June?" He asked. He had to admit that, now that he was meeting this kid, he was sort of curious about him.

[Amos Freeman]

Amos tilted his head, affording a slightly wider smile this time. After meeting Lei, Tanner was a more than welcome experience. Hopefully he wasn't also some sort of closet nutcase.

"You too," he replied quietly. Even more surprising was that he actually meant it.

At the other boy's words, Amos looked around again, and felt stupid for not being able to tell, by simple power of observation, that it was Ladies' Night.

On third glance, it was pretty obvious. He nodded his acknowledgement, eyebrows slightly arched, and spoke again.

"So if I were to, erm, stick around, then I'd get to see your performance?" He asked with polite interest. He could hardly think of a better way to profile the experience than witnessing it.

He could also already hear Juney's squeeing somewhere in the deeper reserves of his mind.

He studied the other boy for a few ponderous moments, then scribbled down a few notes in shorthand.

"Er," Amos thought about this for a moment. Then he hesitated, because the answer had lots of Fs in it, and he had trouble saying those. "Since July 2007."

Five years, five months, fifteen days.

[Tanner Larson]

Nooooooo.

Tanner had been really, really hoping that Amos wouldn't stay for his performance. Not that it was anything particularly humiliating, but he didn't need this kid writing about his stage presence in his article. Not to mention the fact that this kid was friends with June; if they were as close as June said, he had a feeling this whole thing would somehow make it back to the girl.

"Yeah," he said with a firm nod, giving no hint as to the abject horror he was feeling on the inside. "I'll be performing around 9:30." He checked his watch; it was about nine now, and the show would be starting soon. It was still possible the boy wouldn't want to stay that long. He didn't exactly look like the type of kid to enjoy this sort of show. Actually, he seemed even more introverted than Tanner, which was certainly saying something. Hell, Tanner was practically a pop star compared to this guy.

He tried not to let his eyebrow rise as Amos gave the exact year and month that he and Juniper had become friends; hell, Tanner didn't even know that. "Ah, cool," he said, giving another nod. "So that's, like, about five and a half years," he mused, doing the arithmetic quickly in his mind. Deciding to test the waters a bit, he leaned in slightly. "She's... mentioned you before," he offered. "Only good things, of course." He was very interested in knowing if the same was true for him. The band started up at that moment, jumping into a swing-y number to get the crowd going before the first act came on. Tanner didn't let his eyes leave the brunette as this happened.

[Amos Freeman]

Amos nodded in affirmation, making another note.

"Awesome," he replied, blissfully unaware of the emotional havoc that he was wreaking. He checked his wristwatch, too. Thirty minutes wasn't too long; he could hang out until then.

He drummed his fingers briefly on the tabletop, his eyes resting on Tanner as the other boy spoke.

"Yeah, it is," Amos confirmed, licking his chapped lips even though he knew better. At Tanner's words, he huffed out an audible breath that was the equivalent of an amused snort.

"Er, sorry, that must not be riveting conversation for you," he said, but his tone was light. The music started up, and Amos's eyes drifted to the band and then back to his interviewee. Or interviewer; he wasn't quite sure now.

"Yes, she mentions you, too," he offered truthfully. "F-f--"

Oh, Jesus Christ.

"Favorably." He cleared his throat and inspected his voice recorder with intense and renewed interest. His eyebrows were furrowed.

Well, whatever.

"She says you saved her life."

[Tanner Larson]

Tanner shrugged, giving a friendly smile. "Nah, I don't mind," he replied. Frankly, he just liked to hear Juniper talked. He considered himself to be a good listener, and he especially enjoyed it when it was her doing the talking and he could just listen... and look.

As he heard the boy stutter, he quirked an eyebrow curiously. The possibility that he had a speech impediment didn't occur to him, since he hadn't shown any signs of a verbal disability in their prior conversation. That, coupled with the fact that he had licked his lips a minute earlier, led him in a different direction. "Sorry, did you want something to drink?" He asked, lifting a finger casually to get the bartender's attention. He felt like sort of a lousy host for not having asked sooner.

He turned away for a moment, attempting to hide a blush as Amos said Juniper considered him a life-saver. Most of his friends were used to seeing him blush at basically anything complimentary, but this was probably the first time Amos had seen of it unless Juniper had, for some reason, brought it up before. "Well, that's a bit of an exaggeration," he said, smiling in spite of himself. "But yeah that was... a harrowing experience." He said this mostly in the hopes that Amos might give some sort of indication as to how much about it he knew. He wasn't surprised Juniper had brought the event up to her friend, but he was very curious as to what exactly she said about it. "I mean... I tried to be as helpful as I could," he said, eyeing the boy curiously. "I got a little sick from giving her my body heat..." Did Amos know he was a pyrokinetic?

[Amos Freeman]

Amos reached up with an idle hand and scratched absentmindedly in his mess of dark, curly hair.

He made a very slight movement of alarm when Tanner signaled for the bartender, giving several quick shakes of his head.

The only thing more humiliating than stuttering in front of his best friend's crush, to his knowledge, was following it up by asking whether their coffee was fair trade or not.

"I'm fine, th-thanks." He grit his teeth this time, but didn't look away. The more he stuttered, the more he thought about stuttering, and the tighter his throat got, and the more frustrated he was....

He realized that the voice recorder was still on, and he reached down and clicked the large black button on top. The red light went out.

"I just have a little trouble talking sometimes," he said as levelly and carefully as possible. He accompanied this statement with a strained, somewhat pleading smile. "I'm, uh, much more articulate in print."

He brought his elbows onto the table and laced his fingers.

He studied the other boy's face, which appeared to be turning slightly pink. He could relate.

Amos offered him what he hoped was a reassuring smile.

"You've probably already, um, realized, but Juney exaggerates often." He laughed a little. "I mean, always in a kindhearted way, obviously."

He looked up to find that while he had been busy blushing and stuttering, the room had filled up with about twice as many women.

"I did hear about th...at," he managed without missing a full beat. "Er, I'm glad you're feeling better. Um, but not as glad as Juney by half, I expect. She was pretty worried."

He paused, then smirked a little.

"Did she bring you a stuffed animal?"

[Tanner Larson]

Tanner didn't notice the boy's initial protestations; it wasn't until he saw the brunette turning off his recorder that he looked back down at him, eyebrows in the air. He was certainly curious as to what he was about to say, given the fact that he didn't want it recorded. It became clear soon, though, that the boy had some sort of speech impediment, as he continued to stumble over certain words.

"Oh, I see," he replied, feeling a bit badly about being - however unintentionally - insensitive towards the other's difficulties. "Well, let me know if you need anything," he offered, figuring that was a good place to leave that subject.

Tanner couldn't help but smile at Amos' words regarding Juniper. "Heh, yeah, I've noticed," he said, nodding his head as he seemed to look off into the distance for just a moment, before returning to the boy. He derived a strange sort of satisfaction from knowing that June had been worried about him. Actually, he had already known that, but the fact that she had told Amos meant that she had been really thinking about him. He still felt bad that she blamed herself about the whole thing, though.

The boy shook his head. "Uh, no, she didn't," he replied, a bit confused. He wasn't really sure how else to reply to that question; had she told him she did?

Behind him, the first act came on; it was a couple of male dancers essentially wiggling their hips to the rock song now playing. It was a song Tanner didn't recognize. This certainly wasn't a strip club, so it wasn't like the guys were taking their clothes off, but a few of them were shirtless and they were all dancing a bit provocatively. Some of the ladies were calling out to them just for fun, but most hadn't yet had enough to drink to really get into it.