Read Basic Cable :: Chapter 11 - "Need to Know" (Part 2)

Eighteen Hours Later
9:12 P.M.

Nina stumbled into her hotel room and fell face-first onto her bed. It had been yet another fourteen hours running around St. Peter’s Square with Aiden, and at least that many cups of coffee. It was bad enough dealing with Priscilla’s sick idea of a baptism by fire, but even worse trying to hide the fact that she’d been up all night agonizing over that stupid envelope. Her brain was telling her to sleep, but her body was literally twitching from all the caffeine.

Something cold smacked her in the stomach, and she looked down to see a bottle of water come to rest on the comforter.

Vinya’s hair was casting a blue glow in a darkened corner where she was seated at a laptop, swigging Mountain Dew, and wearing a headphone-microphone-smartglass set. Vinya pressed a finger to her lips to indicate that Nina should refrain from speaking, apparently in the middle of a phone call. She was listening intently to whoever was on the other end of the line, but pointed aggressively at Nina, then the water bottle, and made drinking motions with her hands

A few seconds later, she started talking into her headset. “Look, Hector, I’m not asking you for a quote and you owe me a serious solid after that whole Willow Smith thing. I need more…What?...Che Biggs? Who the hell is that?…Google it? Seriously?... Did I ever tell you I hate your cryptic guts?....Yeah, well I’m telling you again. Glass, disconnect.”

Vinya ripped off the glasses and dumped them on the table.

“Do I want to know what that was?” Nina asked, not moving.

Vinya made air quotes with her hands, “‘Record industry source.’ Actually, he just works for a talent management agency. He got wind that the Brilltones may be on the outs with their record label, which is massive – and which I already knew – but he wants to stay off the record when I need somebody on. He’s always wanted more favors than he gives out.”

Nina forced herself into a sitting position and screwed the cap off the water. “Reminds me of a few calls I made to city hall back in Appleton, minus the insults.”

Vinya laughed. “You should have heard his end of the conversation. I’m working a big story about how the whole Brill scene is drying up with record labels. New acts aren’t getting in, established acts are getting tougher bargains - and obviously the Brilltones are the band that started the whole scene.”

Nina was puzzled. “Brill is going gangbusters right now. I can’t go out on the street without getting run over by a poodle skirt. It’s bigger than ever.”

“Which means it’s peaking,” Vinya pointed her finger for emphasis, “It’s been five years since the ‘Tones put out Duck and Cover. 50s nostalgia was a jolt to the system when we were all wearing chromed shoulder pads and listening to Hive Mind. Now it’s everywhere. Eighteen of the top 20 in America are Brill, there’s nowhere to go but down, and I have way better sources than Hector about how much hell is about to break loose.” She stopped to take another gulp of soda, “Honestly, if I never have to wear bobby-sox to a concert again, it will be too soon.”

“Oh, come on,” Nina said, “It’s not that bad. I mean I’m not exactly a Brill but it’s catchy.”

Vinya tugged at her glowing locks in frustration. “The Brilltones are easily the best band of the decade, and I’m totally addicted to Deranged Poodle. It’s the scene around it that messes with me. It doesn’t make any sense. It’s 2038, and yet everyone’s obsessed with chocolate malts and poodle skirts and Frankie Valli. What makes people do that to themselves?”

Nina didn’t respond, trying to process, but Vinya apparently interpreted it differently.

“Sorry, I don’t mean to dump level-9000 music-nerd stuff. It’s just that when I can’t figure out what makes a scene tick, or why a band blows up, I beat my head against it until I can nail it down.” She started putting on her headphones, clearly thinking she’d vented too much. “And I’ve haven’t nailed down Brill in five years. Like, I can see what makes the individual bands sink or swim – but the underlying scene doesn’t click. Like, why? I know that sounds weird.”

Nina took another sip of water. “I don’t think that’s weird at all.”

Vinya put her headphones back around her neck, looking genuinely surprised. “You don’t?”

“Of course not. When I first saw Councilman Selski’s financial disclosures, I sat in my office staring at them until midnight. There was nothing wrong with them on the surface, but the thing that obsessed me was that little things that didn’t add up. I didn’t shut up about them for the next week - my boyfriend, I mean, ex-boyfreind thought I’d gone crazy.”

Vinya smirked. “Hence the ‘ex’ part?”

“Among other things,” Nina said with a heavy eye roll, “but seriously, I think that’s what makes reporters different. Sometimes I think ‘investigative journalist’ is just a nice word for somebody who can’t just look at something and let it pass.”

Vinya didn’t say anything, but Nina saw a smile creep up the corners of her lips, like she was holding in a laugh.

“What’s so funny?”

Vinya blushed and looked at her nails. “Did you just call me an investigative journalist?”

Nina polished off her water bottle. “Yeah, so? That’s the dream, right?”

Vinya raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know about dreams but if you could tell my mom that I have a real job, you’d be doing me a massive solid.”

“Ah,” Nina said, “Family not on board with the career choice?”

“Mostly it’s just my mom and my jerk-off older brother. I swear someone dropped that kid on his head as a baby.”

Vinya paused for a second, like she’d hit some mental iceberg mid-thought. “I’m guessing your family’s super-supportive?” She almost spat out the words but seemed to catch herself. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to -”

“Forget it,” Nina cut her off. “I’m getting used to everyone assuming I’m sheltered and naïve. Do I really come across like that?”

Vinya shrugged. “Nah, us bad kids just can’t process that you’re not jaded.”

Nina felt her eyebrows shoot up. “Jaded? I’m plenty jaded, just not about my job. I think that’s the one thing I still believe in. You know, truth, justice, the American way. Sometimes I feel like if take my eye off that - I’ll look up and realize how screwed my life is.”

Vinya stretched and got up from the computer, “So, the parents aren’t that supportive after all?”

“Oh, they are,” Nina rolled her eyes, “Almost too much. ‘Sure, Nina, chase that dream. Whatever you want, sweetie.’ It’s just so fake. They’re terrified I’ll disappear and hate them like my older sister.”

Vinya shook her head again and flopped down on her bed. “Oh, we could talk all night about older sisters.”

“Well,” Nina said, “I’ve got all night.”

Vinya bit her lip for a moment, hesitating before shaking her head. “I need sleep.”

Now it was Nina’s turn to push. “Vinya…friends.”

Vinya ran a hand through her glowing hair. “Yasha’s great,” she snipped. “Dentist. Always stuck up for me as a kid, helped me get clean when I got messed up in college. Probably saved my life.” She got up and headed for the bathroom. “I’m gonna brush my teeth.”

“And?” Nina shouted after her. There was clearly an “and.”

Vinya re-emerged from the bathroom, gripping a tube of toothpaste way too hard.

“When I said I could talk about sisters all night. I was being rhetorical. Leave it alone.”