Chapter Forty-Seven – Conspiracy
"Did you think it would be funny to steal my glasses?" Hearst began strong, as soon as his brother picked up.
"I didn't take your glasses. And really, accusing me of stealing, right off the bat--"
"Save it, Wen. I know you're riding the LiveFeed bus and enjoying yourself like a pig in crap. What the hell happened to you? I used to look up to you, you know?"
A short pause followed, but Wencel chuckled as if his young sibling told him a silly joke. "I don't remember one time you looked up to me."
"Or you choose not to remember, because that would mean you'd have to take the time for some proper self-reflection."
"Whatever." Wencel's bored tone could only mean one thing. His brother believed he had been dealt a good hand and intended to play it. More than ever, Hearst wanted to know why the hell Wen was so bent on destroying Jamie.
"I don't have time for your lies and pretenses. So, I'm going to ask you directly, and I expect a straight answer from you. Did the Wicklows try to swindle dad for money?"
"Try? They did."
Jamie, by throwing that wild accusation around, had hit the nail on the head. Hearst frowned and pinched the bridge of his nose. Without his glasses, a headache was definitely in the cards for him. He'd pop two aspirins and then start planning. But first, he needed to hear the whole truth from Wencel, in case his older brother had any interest in sharing the things he knew.
"I can tell you're eager for the truth, so I'll tell you."
"Why haven't you ever told me about this before?" Hearst asked.
"Do you want to hear the story or not, Hearst?"
"First, I want to know why you've lied to me all of your life until now. How could you keep such a thing from me?"
Wencel appeared to be losing patience at the other end. "Because you're the least capable of understanding the situation our family is in, lil' bro. You have this weird obsession with getting to the bottom of things, and when you do that, well, don't be so shocked if you discover things you don't want to know."
"Like what things?" Hearst's frown deepened. Fuck, he needed those aspirins asap.
"Dad was a schmuck, Hearst. He still is. His only saving grace is that he's too old and sick to be capable of getting us into trouble again. Mom's no better, always as silent as a freaking mouse and accepting all the crap dad thought of. You must take after her. How could you fall for a scumbag like Jamie Vayne?"
"Who the hell says I fell for him? As always, you're twisting the truth."
"I'm using nice words for your sake. What do you want me to say? That you fell on his dick and liked it?"
"Eww, Wen, that's a low blow, even for you. And I can sleep with whoever the hell I want."
"Nope, you can't. Jamie deserves everything he's going to get. Do you recall when I told you dad wanted to get us on a reality show? That's what happened. He used all our savings to secure a place on this imaginary show that promised the Smiths would finally get rich."
"I have a feeling you're twisting things just to make it look like dad was the victim."
"Not this time. I've always protected you from his crap, Hearst, but because I wasn't smart enough to let you know I was doing it, you took me for granted."
If his brother wished to guilt-trip him, he wasn't doing a half-assed job. Hearst remembered well the many times Wencel had taken his side when his dad accused him of not applying himself enough in his studies. Their father had a penchant for trying to squeeze the best out of his sons, while he only imagined he was doing the same to himself. The illusion had lasted for most of Hearst's childhood; high school had put things into perspective, along with entering his teenage years, when the natural tendency to rebel against his parents manifested even in someone as weird as he was.
"Stop protecting me then. Tell me everything."
"There's not much else to know. After getting swindled of all his money by Jamie and his family, he never recovered. There were no more dreams, not even stupid ones after that. It was the finish line for him. The final blow. That's why he's working as a convenience store clerk instead of counting his money, the way he used to dream he would. And you know what really broke him?"
"Why don't you tell me?" Hearst murmured, unsure that he wanted to know more about their family.
"It's mom's dad who's paying for your tuition and paid for mine. How's that for a harsh bit of truth? Or haven't you ever asked yourself how dad could afford to keep us in school?"
"I did, but I thought he had savings and--"
"Yeah, those were gone the moment the Wicklows waltzed into our lives. You have Jamie to thank for that."
"That's fucked up. No, you've got the timeline wrong. Those people have been in jail for at least fifteen years or so. And when dad was telling us about his grandiose dreams of running a newspaper and had us learn the whole dictionary, that happened--"
"He still wanted us to believe in something. Especially you. You know, he wanted to protect you, too. Have you believe in Santa Claus for a little while longer."
"He shouldn't have done that," Hearst protested, for lack of anything better to say.
"You were the youngest. He shared it all with me, the burden, his broken dreams, everything. While you went down your rabbit holes, thinking you'd be this great reporter one day, unmasking villainous corporations and whatnot, because that was the narrative he sold you." Reproach, envy, and jealousy boiled together in Wen's voice. "You should be here, Hearst. You should be with me and take a front-row seat to the drama that will put Jamie in hot water. He won't dare to show his face again, ever, after this. He's just as arrogant, full of himself, and unrepentant as the rest of his family. What do you say? Oh, wait, you still have classes, as little as they matter to you."
"No," Hearst said in an unnaturally calm voice. "I'll be with you. I'll come wherever you are."
"You will?" Wencel expressed his disbelief. "Okay, I'll be waiting for you. I thought you'd be harder to convince."
Hearst offered only monosyllabic replies after that. He would get one chance, and he would use it, no matter the cost for his future.
***
Anna had to be what they called a go-getter, because during their next stop, Jamie found himself surrounded by a dozen or so people, all contestants from the same show. They were staring at him with questioning eyes, some of them struggling to look cool and disbelieving, others not hiding their nervousness at all.
"What's up?" Jamie asked, crossing his arms. "I hope you don't intend to lynch me for being number one." His attempt at a joke didn't land. All the pairs of eyes examining him were dead serious.
A tall willowy girl, in a black dress with infinite ruffles and goth makeup, started, after searching her presumptive allies' faces for a moment. "We've all heard from Anna about the shady contracts they had us sign."
"Did you check them out? Is it the same for all of you?" Jamie was willing to believe that Anna was right, and they could have something, a small army, to go up against the powers that be.
The girl nodded briefly. She stretched out her hand in an almost mechanical gesture. "I'm Naomi. We all know who you are."
"Okay," Jamie said slowly, taking her hand. "Did you just go ahead and name me your de facto leader without asking me in advance?"
She shrugged, shaking his hand for exactly two beats. "You're the brawniest of us all."
Jamie quirked an eyebrow. "And you think it's all going to come down to whose biceps are bigger?"
"I know it's not like that." It looked like she had no idea how to smile. Jamie had yet to figure out whether it was her persona that stopped her from manifesting human emotions, or if it was simply her. Maybe it was a combination of both; her manner was direct, though, and Jamie appreciated that.
A short guy wearing a baseball cap backwards and baggy pants stepped forward. "Thing is, these guys are thugs," he said, gesticulating with both hands. "And thugs only know violence."
"Jeez, Tony, not everything is a rap video," another girl wearing flashy clothes and makeup intervened. "But yeah," she said, setting her heavily mascaraed eyes on Jamie, "I guess they'll be more impressed if the guy who speaks for all of us is someone with a bit of weight. I'm not talking about the physical aspect. Jamie, of all us, you have what it takes to tell them to their faces that they suck."
"Now, guys," Jamie said, "I don't know exactly what you think I will be able to accomplish doing something like that."
"You're not going to take this lying down, are you?" Naomi asked. "That's what we all want to ask you."
Jamie looked around at them again. "This isn't all of us. What do you know about the others? I think it's better to be able to count on everyone if we want to tell those fuckers to take those contracts and shove them up their asses."
The girl with the heavy makeup guffawed. "See, Jamie? That's what we're talking about. You're not afraid to speak your mind. By the way, I'm Eve."
Jamie nodded at her.
From his left, a boy in glasses raised his hand. "We must apply the scientific method."
"Boo, lame," Eve said and threw one arm over the boy's shoulders. He seemed to wobble under her weight. "What do you mean by that?"
"I mean that we should have something on them. Since we didn't think to ask for a lawyer to be present when we signed the contracts they put under our eyes, we're well screwed."
Jamie liked what he was seeing, but he had never let other people fight his battles or get involved in them without a good reason. "Guys, even if they had you all sign the same thing as I did, there's a chance they won't use them to fuck you over. It looks like it's me they want, and I suspect there are certain considerations we need to think about."
What had been that thing Cottontail had warned him of? That every show of this sort had a villain, and it could be that these people wanted to turn him into one for this show? And that they would also succeed if they put their mind to it?
He could hate the man all he wanted, but he couldn't hate the logic. Unlike during other times in his life, Jamie preferred to come clean now. "Look, I think I am their perfect villain. And that means that it's me they're going to target. Not the rest of you."
Eve's eyes grew wide. "What villain? You're a sweetheart, Jamie."
He had to offer her one of his signature smiles. "Thanks for the thought, Eve, but the problem is that they are experts at building narratives that suit their plans. I suppose they believe that it would come as quite a shock if someone people like turns out to be a scumbag. It makes for great entertainment, or something like that. I have no idea if that's how their logic works, but if it brings in the ratings, they will be down with it, for sure."
"I'm not sure about your theory," the boy in glasses said. "They only made around half of us sign contracts with provisions like yours did. The others have completely different contracts. What does that tell you?"
Jamie frowned. "It tells me that they intend to pitch us against each other, by splitting us up."
"Yep," the boy in glasses confirmed.
"Why would they do that?"
"Obviously, they plan to make all of us look like villains," the guy said, crossing his arms in a show of confidence that didn't match his corduroy pants and preppy shirt that were big enough to swallow another one of him.
"Or losers," Eve said. She ruffled the boy's hair. "Will here likes to analyze things until they become brutally depressing."
"If we think of the worst-case scenarios," Will jumped to defend his position, "then we can prepare for them."
"I kinda agree with Will," Jamie said. "They are playing a strange game by forcing us to take sides. I also suppose that it was only a matter of time until we discovered the truth about our contracts. Do you guys have anything you want to keep hidden?"
Will shrugged. "I don't think so. But what I think may not be worth commenting on might be exactly the same thing these guys consider entertainment. Frankly, I was surprised when they contacted me. My social media barely has one thousand followers combined across three different platforms. And some of them are the same people like my mom and my grandma. If you're the villain, Jamie, I suppose I'm the lame duck."
Eve kissed Will's cheek, making the boy blush up to his eyeballs. "You're not a lame duck, Will. If you're that, then I'm the whale."
Jamie felt a muscle twitch in his jaw again. Yes, Eve was on the heavy side, but her personality made her attractive. Would they go as far as to fat-shame her for ratings? Maybe these people didn't have something to hide – although he hadn't thought the family he once had should have been his dirty secret, either – but who they were, how they looked, was enough for the scumbags running LiveFeed to build shock value and scandals the way only scumbags could.
"We are talking about a conspiracy," Will said, putting one hand up, ready to launch into a lecture.
Eve caught his arm and dragged it down. "Psst, that asshole with the clipboard is coming. Let's pretend we're about to jam together."
"I don't know how to jam," Will protested.
Eve ignored him and started belting the latest hit from a famous artist. Jamie didn't look at Wencel passing by and joined Eve, grinning and pretending to have fun.
Will might not be far from the truth, talking about conspiracies and whatnot. If that was the case, they needed to figure out what was being planned before the LiveFeed producers made their next move.
***
"Where are you? I can't see you," Hearst spoke rapidly into his phone, struggling to cut through the crowd of people who were there to get to know the faces of LiveFeed. He had thrown only a few things in a backpack and hurried off to join his brother on that stupid tour because his studies could wait when Jamie's reputation was at stake.
He stopped dead in his tracks when he noticed Jamie on stage. He was only several feet away, yet he seemed too far to reach.
Hearst set his jaw hard and proceeded to cut through the crowd without looking up. His brother's voice was guiding him now. When he got close to the small stage, he dared to look up for a moment.
Jamie's eyes landed on him, and the flicker of recognition was enough to tell Hearst his presence had been noted and acknowledged. He didn't stare back for more than a second. When he met Jamie face to face, preferably alone, he needed to be a lot better prepared.
***
"You could've told me from the start you're working for these guys instead of keeping it such a big secret," he told Wencel the moment he set foot in his brother's room. It looked like LiveFeed didn't want to splurge on more than motel rooms, even for their crew. "And give me back my glasses."
Wencel picked them up from the nightstand and placed them in his brother's palm. Hearst sighed and wiped them with the hem of his t-shirt. On his way to meet his brother, he had thought of the proper strategy.
He put his glasses on and stared at Wencel. "So, what's your big plan?"
"Not so fast, lil' bro," Wencel said with a wry smile. "How about I take you to meet Angus? He's going to arrive soon, and I told him about having a younger brother who'd like to work in the industry."
"Why would he want to meet me?" Hearst asked, already disliking the direction this conversation was heading.
Wencel took him by the shoulders, patting them hard. "I would be horribly uncomfortable during the conversation he's going to have with you, so I'll leave the two of you alone for a bit once we get together."
Hearst's frown deepened. "Why would you be uncomfortable?"
"He's going to ask you about your relationship with Jamie. And I can't sit there and listen to all of the gruesome details, as you can well imagine."
"Did you tell Angus I slept with Jamie?" Hearst knew the answer already, but he needed to ask the question anyway.
"Yeah, of course. Angus is eager to hear all of the juicy details you can't tell me because I'm your family."
"Ah, but you don't have any problem with hearing about them once they're put on full display for the world to see? How does that work, Wen?"
"Your name won't be mentioned, of course. All great reporters need to protect their sources. And you, lil' bro, are mine."
Hearst pursed his lips. Had he just walked into a trap?
TBC