Stings of a Puppet (Closed for BlondeAmbition4RP)

ThaDonger

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Strings of a Puppet (Closed for BlondeAmbition4RP)

His legs bounce up and down silently. His knees rising and falling, faster and faster. Nails nonexistent as his teeth scrap over each one in an attempt to settle his brain as he sits against the back wall under the bright lights of the waiting room.

Walter Puppet, try growing up with that name, was your average musicians story. Left home at a young age, 19, to pursue his passion, or to get the hell out of his family's home. Either one you choose to believe, he accomplished it. Walked out the front door with nothing more than a guitar and the cloths on his back. Sure it was difficult, sleeping on sidewalks, crashing at strangers homes when he could, eating out of trash cans when he could not make enough money off playing on the streets. But no way was he going back to his parents home and begging to return. That was not going to happen.

Then one day, Walter finds himself attempting to hold a conversation with a fast talking individual, as he sat against a building, strumming the strings of his acoustic. It was hard for Walter to get a word in with this man. Sure he managed a word here and there "yeah"..."no". But not what you would call a textbook conversation. Then the man asked "Where is that song from?" Walter spoke right up, "I wrote it" feeling and sounding slightly offended.

The man dropped a small fold of money with a business card wrapped by a rubber band at Walters lap.

"Clean yourself up. Be there Monday morning." The man said, sliding his hands inside his slacks as he turns to walk away.

"And if I'm not?" Walter yells back, his self defense kicking in..

"You will be" the man says as he strolls down the sidewalk, continuing his day.

So here he sits, nervous as fuck! This is not Walter's scene.

He watches as people move from room to room, door to door. There must be a hundred conversations being held simultaneously. Phones ringing...many upon many phones ringing, louder and louder, almost screaming "Answer Me!!"

Walters eyes continue to dance over the room, teeth grinding over his nails.

"What the fuck am I doing here?"
 
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"What the fuck am I doing here?" Elle Adams thought to herself in frustration.

Elle was sitting in one of the conference rooms on the top floor of Nashville's leading record label, sipping on a bottle of Fiji water and praying that the extra-strength Tylenol her assistant had given her as they road over to the label from Elle's downtown luxury apartment would hurry up and kick in already. She had the hangover from Hell, and she didn't know how she was going to be able to make it through this meeting today if it didn't.

More and more frequently Elle had been staying out all night partying with her entourage and then showing up late and hungover the next day to meetings, rehearsals, and recordings; but no one ever said anything to her about it. They didn't dare. She was the number one selling artist at the record label, had been since she was just sixteen and crossed over from the country genre to pop, and now ten years later she was still one of the top selling artists in the nation. No one was going to risk upsetting her by confronting her about it. Besides, as long as she continued to pop out number one hits like she'd been doing since she first signed with the label as a teenager, why would they care? Money was the only thing anyone really cared about in this business after all. As long as she kept making it for them they were going to let her do whatever she liked.

Deciding the Tylenol alone wasn't going to cut it, she excused herself for a bathroom break and took her purse with her as she left. Stylishly dressed and Louboutin heels clacking against the polished floor as she strided past the waiting area, none of her onlookers probably ever would have guessed that stashed inside the pop princess' designer bag was a small flask of vodka that she kept on her for the days that she needed a little "hair of the dog".
 
Walter finds his patients wearing thin. His eyes continuously moving to the office clock. "4 hours!" Muttering to himself once he realized how long he had been waiting.

Standing, Walter approaches the receptionist. "How much longer am I going to wait? I've been here for hours." placing his palms on her work station.

"Not much longer Sir" the receptionist politely says, without even a glance in his direction.

Walter walks back to where he had been seated, grabs his old worn pack, "I'm going to take a piss, you know in case he calls!" He exclaims in a tone everyone could hear.

Raising his head from the sink, hands slide down his face leaving his face wet yet oddly refreshed. He looks into the mirror, watter dripping down to his shirt, wondering if he had made a mistake. Could this be the life he has wanted? Is his love and passion for music enough, or should there more?

He dries his face with a paper hand towel, tossing it into the waste can before picking his bag up from the adjacent sink. Approaching the door, he can hear the determined steps of heels walking down the hall as he pulls the bathroom door open and steps out, head down to avoid eye contact with anyone.

Rounding the corner, the steps grew louder just as he walks head long into the sound. "Fuck! Watch were you are going!" he yells out, taking a couple steps back before raising his head. Speechless? Mesmerized? Whatever word you want to use to describe his state, all would be true. He knew this face looking back him, has seen it often, Elle Adams.

Walter just stares, dumbfounded in disbelief. "Uummm, excuse me." He steps to the side, back to the wall, allowing room for Elle to pass by him.
 
Damn. And I thought I was having a bad morning, Elle thought to herself as she stared at the guy with a dumbfounded look.

It had been a long time since someone had raised their voice to her like that. She honestly wasn't sure how to respond.

She was tempted to give him a piece of her mind. Yeah, she hadn't really been watching where she was going like he said, but the florescent lighting in the hall had been making her headache worse, so she'd had her eyes down. What was his excuse? He obviously wasn't watching where he was going either!

It was then that she noticed his damp collar and hairline. Apparently he'd splashed some water on that handsome face of his while he was in the bathroom. She didn't know what the guy's problem was, but he was obviously having a hell of a day. Wasn't really an excuse for the yelling in her opinion, but she decided to let it go.

Arching a brow at the guy and giving him a bit of a glare she kept on walking.
 
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Walter stuffed his hands in his pockets, hung his head and walked back to his seat. As he stood, looking down at the chair, he decides to call it a day. He has wasted far to much of his time here. He slings the old weathered guitar case on his right shoulder and prepares to exit the office.

"Mr Hansen will see you now" the receptionist interrupts his escape.

With a hesitant pause, Walter turns back towards the offices and accepts his fate.

____________________________________________________________

The conversation, wouldn't call it an interview, with the fast talking Hansen was painful. Seems he has loads and loads of ideas, but in Walter's experience, ideas do not feed you.

Their one sided conversation went to the day before when George Hansen watched this young man play Blues on a guitar as if he were a seasoned vet. Blues came natural to Walter, atleast the style he preferred anyway. While the majority of his friends were into Hip Hop or Metal, Walter's passion was Hendrix and SRV.

"Have you heard of Elle Adams?" George Hansen asked assuming Walter did not subscribe to her style.

Walter looks in his direction with a puzzled look "Of course I have." Offering him nothing further.

"I think adding your Blues style to her vocals would be a hit." sounding over enthusiastic. "So, I have invited her to come in and meet you."

"Does she know this?" Walter blurts out unconsciously.

"I doubt it." George quickly replies.

Well shit! Did Walter ever fuck this up. Raising his voice to the #1 artist in the world, then unapologetically walking away. Yeah...fucked it up!

George Hansen presses a button on his desk phone "Susan! Please show Ms Adams in"

"Right away Sir" she quickly responds.

With the sound of the door opening, Walter stands to his feet, knowing she would recognize him immediately, he turns to face the inevitable.
 
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Elle had made it into the ladies room without further incident. Once she was safely hidden in one of the stalls she downed a few swigs from the flask before returning to the meeting. Honestly she wasn't that into vodka, more of a whiskey girl really, but the nice thing about vodka was that it didn't linger on your breath. A few sips from the Diet Coke sitting in front of her and she was golden.

-----------------------------

They were reaching what would have normally been the end of the meeting when her manager's phone suddenly buzzed with a new message.

"Change of plans," he announced as he looked down and read the message, "Hansen wants to speak with you about something before you go."

Elle inwardly groaned, but when the head of the label called you in for a chat you didn't say no, not even if you were Elle Adams.

They wrapped up the meeting and headed down the hall to the waiting area. Immediately Susan, Mr. Hansen's secretary rose to greet her and offer her a bottle of Fiji.

"He'll be ready for you shortly Ms. Adams," she assured her with a polite smile.

Sure enough, it wasn't long before Susan was informing her that Mr. Hansen was ready to meet with her; escorting Elle, her manager, and assistant to the door and opening it for them.

"Afternoon G.H.!" she began, greeting the man with that perfect pop-star smile of hers as she walked into the room, only to stop after just a few strides and pause in confusion as she spotted the man sitting in front of his desk, surprised to find that it was none other than the same guy that had ran into her outside the bathroom before.

She gave him a look, her eyebrow arching once more for a moment as she wondered why he was there before her gaze rose up to Hansen again, the smile back on her face.

"To what do I owe the pleasure?"
 
Walter sat, contemplating how he should handle this, after all we are talking about Ellie Adams. As the door opens behind him, her voice recognizable as song birds when she enters. He fills his lungs, then empties the loud and completely, before turning to face her.

The look on her face spoke volumes. She recognized him immediately. Walter just sat there, his jaw and lips moving in a nervous fassion.

"Ellie dear. The pleasure is ours" as Hansen looked around the room as if searching for confirmation. George Hansen knows who actually pays the bills here. "Please have a seat my dear." offering up the chair next to Walter.

Walter stands as she turns and take her seat. He figured he needed to show her that he was not a complete ass without manners. Once Ellie was seated, and the attention was no longer on him, Walter takes his seat, then diverts his attention out the window.

Geroge places his arms on his desk, folded. "So as you are well aware Ellie," trying his best to lessen the blow he fears is coming, "Your producer and I have been discussing ways to bring a fresh new sound to your next album. Your 6th album! Can you believe that?"

"I found this young man just the other day. I feel he is extremely talented and would like you, no...I'm asking you, to work with him, you know, see if he has what it takes...mentor him if you will." as George puts on his best salesman smile.

Truth be told, George was not all that interested in Ellie's opinion. Yes she is one of, if not the biggest name in music. But George has an arrogance about him. He is constantly on the lookout for the next big thing. He feels if he can get Walter out there, use Ellie as a stepping stone, hell he could have two big names in music.

Walter stands, out stretching his hand, "Ellie, this Walter, Walter Puppet."

"Such a honor and pleasure to meet you Ma'am" Walter nervously blurts out before returning to his seat.

"Ellie, please dear, spend some time in the studio together, hear his sound and see what, if anything, inspires you." George says, standing behind his desk. "Can you do that for me?"
 
Elle made a point of keeping her eyes on Hansen as she took the seat he offered her next to the new guy, keeping her smile trained on Hansen and not even glancing the guy's way as she settled into the chair and George began to speak. It wasn't until the guy stood up and George introduced him as Walter Puppet that she finally looked his way.

She smiled and shook his hand politely when he offered it, she wasn't going to act unprofessional and snub him right there in front of G.H. after all, but if one looked closely they would note that the smile didn't quite reach her eyes and the handshake was a little stiff.

"Ellie, please dear, spend some time in the studio together, hear his sound and see what, if anything, inspires you."

"Can you do that for me?"


Man, George was really laying it on thick. He must not have been kidding about thinking this guy had potential. She eyed Walter skeptically.

Even if the guy was talented, she was tempted to tell George no. She didn't much feel like playing babysitter, especially to a potential hotheaded asshole... but she also knew that it wasn't really one hundred percent her choice to make like George was making it out to be. Her being the big star, George was giving her a chance to save face and make it look like it was her decision whether to work with Walter or not, but George was the head of the label and he could try to put his foot down about this if he really wanted to.

Fine. She'd play along... for now at least. Turning back to George she offered him another radiant smile.

"Of course. Anything for you G.H."
 
George stands behind his desk, "Great! You are the best Elle'"

Walter gets the sense that the meeting is coming to a close. Everyone begins to stand and shuffle around the room. Mr Hansen simply returns to his seat behind his desk as if a sitter had been found for his newest child.

Walking into hallway, Elle's producer walks to him, hands him a piece of paper "Monday. 3pm. Try not to be late" he tells him before turning and walking the passage, part of Elle's entourage. He opens the small paper and notices an address, obviously a recording studio here in town.

______________________________________________________________

Walter spends the weekend as any other down on his luck musician with his first record deal would, shopping. Although a simple guy with simple taste, there were obvious things Walter required. Obvious to everyone, cloths, haircut, cloths. He was well aware what this advancement was intended for, to clean himself up. The remainder of the weekend was spent on his guitar, tuning and practicing. His greatest fear at the moment, failing. Not only failing, failing hard in front of Elle Adams of all people.

Monday morning, sporting a fresh shave, new cloths and a hair cut Walter finds himself a bundle of nerves but extremely excited. He arrives outside the studio early, around 1:30, in an attempt to show Elle, as well as everyone else, he can be a valuable part of her music. Walking through the front door, there is barely anyone in the building. A young man looks in Walters direction and waves him over. He recognizes him from the meeting, but does not know his name.

"Morning, Walter. Bobby" he introduces himself, "I'm a sound mixer here."

"Good to meet you Bobby" Walter says, looking around a professional sound studio for the first time.

"You're here early. You may be waiting for awhile" Boddy informs him.

"They said 3, but I wanted to get here a little early" still mesmerized by his surroundings.

"Yeah...3, right" Bobby says with a chuckle. "If you want, step in, get warmed up"

Walter did not hesitate. Diving into his case he pulls his guitar out and steps into the room. Time stood still for Walter as he found his rhythm, his zone and stayed there. Boddy, impressed by the mans talents, took the opportunity to record, for the first time, Walter's soul pouring from the steal strings.
 
Frustrated by the meeting with George, Elle had decided to spend the weekend blowing off some steam with her friends. They'd danced and partied the weekend away, making the rounds at the city's best night clubs as well as a few exclusive, VIP only parties.

Monday morning she didn't even drag herself out of bed until a little before noon, and even then it was only at her assistant's insistence as she reminded Elle of the 3 pm appointment with Walter at the recording studio.

"Let him wait," Elle replied with a stretch as she lazily got up and made her way towards the bathroom.


"I'm going to take a shower. Have someone go get one of those spinach omelettes that I like from the bistro down the street, will you?... Oh, and some champagne and orange juice for mimosas too."

----------------

It was after 4:00 when Elle finally arrived at the studio with her entourage in tow, perfectly styled as usual and with an iced coffee drink that she'd insisted they'd stop and get along the way in hand. Obviously, she had not been in a hurry to get there even though she was over an hour late. She figured if she tried subtly pushing the new guys buttons a little bit and he gave her attitude again, hopefully in front of someone else this time, it would make for a good enough excuse to give G.H. for not having to 'mentor' him anymore.

As she walked into the building she heard blues music already playing. She didn't think much of it at first, just figuring it was some album they'd put on while waiting for her, maybe to help inspire the new guy. Whatever it was though was good...really good. It was then that she glanced over to the sound room however and stopped dead in her tracks in surprise.

The music wasn't some album they'd put on to inspire the new guy... it was the new guy!

"Well, damn..."
 
A cough comes over his headset. Walter stops, looks around and notices the group of people walking through. He places his guitar on a stand provided inside the audio booth. He takes notice of his appearance, hair matted to his face with sweat, shirt a soaked through.

His breath deep and heavy, Walter steps from the glass room, looking in Bobby's direction "Towel?" he quietly ask.

It hits him in the chest as his attention was on Elle's location. He dries his hair, then does the best he can to dry his shirt. Nervously, he places the towel on a small table as Elle approaches. He wipes his sweaty hands on his jeans before extending his hand to her.

The look on Elle's face said it all, disgusting! He lowers his hand, looks away and wipes his hand again.

"Hope you do not mind, I just wanted warm up before you arrived" he tells her, unsure if it would upset her or not.

Bobby interrupts "Yeah, he was killing it!"

Walter turns, sits in a chair behind him, "What are the plans? Anything special you want from me?"

Sitting in the chair, Walter actually hopes she is impressed with his sound. Bobby, seated at the mixer, turns to Elle. "Want hear it? Mixed it in with the new one we recorded the other day."
 
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Elle had watched as Walter had stopped playing and exited the glass booth. As he did, she'd walked over to join him and Bobby, examining Walter's appearance carefully as she did. A new haircut, some new looking clothes. It was clear he'd tried to make an effort. Some might have said the affect was ruined by the sweat dampening his brow and collar, but if she was honest... she thought it was kind of sexy. It gave him a little bit of a 'rockstar' vibe.

Not that she was going to admit it, of course.

She'd been so distracted by her thoughts that she hadn't even noticed that he'd extended his hand to her until he was pulling it away again, obviously thinking she'd snubbed him. She felt a little bad about it...but not that bad. After all, she was still a little unsure about the guy after the way he had acted the day before until he'd recognized her. Had she just caught him at a bad moment, or was he just being extra polite now that he knew she was a celebrity and he needed her to help further his career?

Still, the guy definitely had talent. George hadn't been wrong about that.

"Want hear it? Mixed it in with the new one we recorded the other day."

Elle's gaze shifted over to Bobby in response to the question before glancing back over at where Walter was sitting and examining him for another brief moment before finally turning to Bobby with a nod.

"Definitely," she agreed, as she moved over and took a seat in an empty seat next to Walter's, "Let's see what you've got."
 
Walter sits in the chair, body finially coming to rest. He is nervous without a doubt. This could very well be the interview of a life time so to speak. His heart sank to the floor when she looked over at him.

He could not understand for the life of him why she seemed to despise him so much. Granted, their first encounter was not magical. But truely she can not hold that against him. It was an accident, plus he had been there all day. His patients were as thin as paper by that point. And he refuses to see her the other way. You know...

Walter was desperately trying to impress her. If she in anyway shape or form, endorced him, his life would be so much easier. No more money problems, abundance of friends, all his lifes issues fixed. Sad thing is, he really believed that.

With her seated in the chair next to him, the closest she had allowed herself to be with him since the day they so called met. The soft scent of her perfume washes over him and somehow calming him.

The playback starts over the studio speakers. Watler is very impressed with Bobby's skills in the short time he had the sound. Not to mention Elle's voice. It's not hard to figure out why she is so famous. Her voice was made for music, much like a sparrows. And you can't deny her sheer beauty.

The song ends, rather abruptly. "Sorry Elle, that was all I had time to put together." Bobby apologizes, looking in her direction.

Walter for the first time, and sincere asked "So, what do you think?" looking at Elle seated next to him.
 
Elle leaned back in the chair and listened carefully as Bobby began the playback and showed her the mix that he'd come up with by pairing her vocals for one of her new songs that they'd previously recorded with the recordings of Walter 'warming up', as he'd put it.

She'd been impressed with his sound as she'd walked into the building before, but now that she was actually sitting down and getting to have a good listen at it, she found herself completely blown away!

Where had George found this guy?!

The way Bobby had been able to pair up the tracks was perfect as well, the guitar and her vocals merging together as if it had been planned that way from the beginning. She could only imagine how amazing it would sound if they really had written it together. She found herself getting lost in it.

Then suddenly the music ended and Walter turned to her, his voice and the look in his eyes so sincere as he spoke.

"So, what do you think?"

Her conscience getting the better of her, she suddenly felt like an ass for the attitude she'd been giving him. Yeah he'd kind of started it with his jerk move in the hallway, but it wasn't really fare to hold a grudge over something so small, and it wasn't his fault that G.H. had all but forced her to be his babysitter and give him a leg up under the guise that it would be good for her career. Heck, if this guy was as talented as he seemed, maybe it would be good for her career. She had to admit, things had been feeling pretty stale lately.

"I think...," she began slowly, "Well, I think if that's what a 'warm up' sounds like, then I can't wait to hear you on fire."

Finally she offered him a smile, not one of the fake and beaming 'pop star' ones that she forced onto her face so frequently these days, but a small genuine smile of reassurance as her eyes met his to show her sincerity at what she'd said.
 
Walter breathed a deep sigh of relief. His anxiety was at max and he was sure it was on full display. He turns to Bobby and smiles before looking back at Elle, returning her smile only much bigger.

Boddy spoke up "Sounds like a night out to celebrate!"

Walter sat for a second, not wanting to seem over eager in his celebrations with Elle. He feels he just won a major battle with his future, didn't want to blow it on the same day drinking and acting a fool. "I don't know" Walter said hesitantly.

Walter, not much of a drinker and for good reasons, stays clear of parties and club scene. See Walter is the kind of guy who doesn't really know his limits when it comes to alcohol. Well that is not until it is too late.

He contemplates his options, not wanting to destroy what little professionalism Elle may see in him. Besides, it is a Tuesday and more than likely not much going on in Nashville tonight.

Although Walter has been in Nashville for a couple years, the places he would visit to drown his woe's, back alley dives, are not the kind of places he is willing to admit visiting to this group of people, especially Elle. Besides, she is a big time pop star. Sure she wouldn't want to be caught dead in those places.

Walter looks back at Elle, "You know of anywhere to go on a Tuesday?"
 
"Do I know of anywhere?"

Elle couldn't help but smirk in response to Walter's question as her eyes shifted over to Bobby for a moment and then back to him.

"One of the perks of being a super star, Sugar," she began, "If the club isn't open...just bring the club to you."

She gave him a teasing wink and smiled as she laughed softly.

"We'll celebrate at my place. After all, what else are penthouse apartments for if not for throwing parties and trying to impress people?" she joked.

"Just let me make a few calls..." she told him as she rose from her seat and waved her assistant over to speak with her.

Turning to Bobby, she added, "Bobby, while I take care of this why don't you and Walter keep working on the rest of that song? Let him listen to the rest of the vocals that we recorded the other day and see if he has anything else he wants to add guitar wise."
 
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Walter looks in the direction of Bobby, a large smile across his face. "I'm ready!" Walter says, standing from his chair. Walter enters the sound room, half heartedly seated on the stool inside. His shirt was still soaked from his previous session and was rather uncomfortable. Looking outside the glass, most everyone has cleared the room or engaged with Elle in planning this party. Walter uses this opportunity to unbutton his shirt then removes it, placing it on the floor beside him. He throws the strap over his bare, tattooed chest and shoulder and tuned his guitar by ear. With a quick thumbs up, he sat motionless, intent on hearing her song before he joins in, adding his own rif.

****************************************************************

The night air is cool. The sounds of the city muffled by altitude. Walter stands at the rail of Elle's penthouse balcony looking over the city. He takes the final drink from what must of been his 4th Bourbon, "This must be what made it looks like" he says in a soft tone to himself.

Walter has never been one for large crowds, and her penthouse is busier than any night club on a Saturday night. He stands off on his own because frankly he is awkward with strangers and not the most outgoing person. He noticed within an hour of arriving that he knew not one person at this party. He has yet to see Elle or Bobby. Just a mass of strangers talking and drinking.

He looks over the edge of the railing, twirling the ice inside his empty glass. He takes a finial swig, purposely catching a cube of ice inside his mouth. Leaning back over the rail, he contemplates how long it would take for the ice to hit the sidewalk below. Not once thinking if he should. With a sudden burst of air, the ice shoots from his lips, traveling downward towards the street below. Walter leans further over the rail, trying his hardest to keep track of the falling cube.
 
As Walter leaned over the railing following the path of the ice cube, a soft chuckle was heard from behind him.

"I couldn't resist doing the same thing with a grape when I first moved in," Elle confessed with another soft laugh as she joined him, "It fell for about fifteen seconds before hitting some poor unsuspecting tourist walking by."

She smiled and leaned against the railing as she looked at him.

"So what's our man of the hour doing out here all by his lonesome? I was wondering when you'd show up. Have you been here long?"

She'd looked for him of course, but it had been difficult once everyone had started to arrive and the crowd of people buzzing around her and vying for her attention had grown. Plus she was a few drinks in now, and as her buzz had grown she'd kind of forgotten about poor Walter. To be honest the only reason she'd come out onto the balcony was to try and get a bit of fresh air away from everyone.

Not that she wasn't happy to have found him however. As she looked over the outfit that he'd chosen for the night, her mind couldn't help but wander back to how he'd looked earlier that day in the sound booth sweaty and shirtless, chest and tattoos exposed as he riffed on his guitar. She'd blame it on the alcohol, but to be honest even sober she'd thought he'd looked hot as hell.
 
Startled by the voice suddenly behind him, Walter spins around and see Elle walking up. "Oh" he laughs slightly embarrassed. "15 seconds huh? Bet he was thankful it was only a grape."

"So what's our man of the hour doing out here all by his lonesome? I was wondering when you'd show up. Have you been here long?

"Man of the hour" Walter mumbles back, turning back to the rail and leaning on his fore arms against it. "I've been here for a little while. I tried to look around for yo..." he catches himself before he admits it out loud, "for people I know. Didn't really see anyone"

These type of gatherings are hard for Walter. Walter is a bit of a social awkward. He tends to shutdown around large groups of people he does not know or worse, relate to in anyway.

"How do you get use to this...all of this?" he points back at her penthouse. He knew the opportunity for success would offer and even bring wealth, but he never realized the level at which someone in Elle's position would gain.

Walter takes another piece of ice, sucks the last bit of bourbon from it, then launches it outwards, watching it sail and drop. He turns to Elle, extends his glass and shakes it.
 
Elle smirked as Walter shook his glass at her, stepping forward and taking it from him.

"You want the truth?" she asked in response to his question as she swirled the cubes around in the cup a bit, listening to them clink against the glass.

She gazed back over her shoulder at the party still going strong within her home.

"'All of this' is... complicated. You get the hang of it with time, but I don't know if you ever truly get use to it, if you know what I mean."

She turned back to him and with another smirk she raised the glass to her lips.

"A little hard liquor certainly doesn't hurt though," she suggested with a playful wink before tipping the glass back and capturing one of the cubes within her mouth.

Like him, she sucks the last drops of bourbon from it before shooting it over the edge of the balcony with a puff of air, leaning forward and laughing a bit as she watches it fall, her hair falling forward around her face a bit and catching the breeze as she counts softly beneath her breath.

"Damn...lost sight of it. Oh well," she commented with a giggle as she straightened herself and turned toward him with a smile.

"So...didn't see anyone you knew inside, huh? Want me to introduce you to some people?" she offered.
 
Walter watches, leaning over the rail with Elle as the cube soars out of sight. He stands up laughing, surprised he is actually having a time and what he was certain would be an uptight, rich people party.


Walter turns, lean back on the railing, stares inside the penthouse. "Get use to huh?" he smirks, "No way of convincing you to blow this place?"

His thoughts go to this little bar in an alley downtown, not to far from her penthouse. He would often go, sit and play. It is a much older crowd, one that's there for music and dancing, not to be seen.

"I know this place not far from here. We skip right out through the elevator. Bet not once person here would miss you." he says, looking her in the eyes with a slight smile.
 
Elle laughed softly along with Walter, standing up and turning her head to watch him as he turned and leaned back against the railing.

"You mean just leave?" she asked in response to his first statement, the smile on her face fading a bit in surprise at the suggestion.

She listened as he continued on, explaining he knew a place nearby. She gave a bit of a rueful laugh in response to his statement that no one would miss her and turned to look at the party goers inside her home.

"You're probably right," she agreed with a smirk.

It had been a long time since she'd gone out somewhere on her own; no bodyguard, no entourage. Her manager would kill her if they found out, but even so she had to admit it was tempting. She turned away from the party and looked back down over the railing, watching the people walking by on the street bellow and wondering what it would be like to be down there with them. She bit her bottom lip in consideration for a moment before finally straightening and looking over at Walter again, a mischievous gleam shining in her eyes.

"Lets do it," she agreed with a grin.
 
Walters face lit up. He had never expected her to leave her party with him. "Really?" He looks at her, then looks around. He grabs Elle's hand, "Come on" as he quickly leads her in the direction of the elevator. He stops long enough to get his coat before climbing into the elevator.

He dares not go throug the lobby, opting instead to exit through the garage. He places his coat over Elle's shoulders as they exit the elevator and walk to the nearest exit door.

Once on the street, Walter gets his bearings "Wow, closer than I thought" taking her hand and leading her down the sidewalk.
"When I first arrived here, I knew no one, had no where to stay, more or less slept on the street" letting her had go as they alked "I happened by this place one night, looking for a place to sleep" hangs his head in shame. After all, he is confessing this to a mega pop star.

"The music was so pure, even in the alley. I stepped inside and sat, for hours, every night for a week. They knew I was...well my condition" unable to admit he was homeless "but never ran me off. One nigt I asked to play, they never questioned me. Handed me a guitar and let me go." A big smile crosses his face. "The same guitar I have now."

"Down here" here tells Elle, turning down an alley. "During prohibition, this was a speak easy." As the walk into the alley, a sign hangs over a metal door 'Blues Corner'.

Walter steps to door and knocks. A rather older gentleman opens the door and grins when he recognizes Walter.

"The Puppet!" he says loudly, opening the door. "Come on in my man"

"Thanks Ray" Walter greets him, shaking his hand. "This is.."

Before Walter could complette his introduction, Ray stops him. "Please. No introduction needed" he smiles at Elle "Please, enjoy yourselves."
 
Elle's emotions were a mix of nervousness and excitement as Walter had taken her by the hand and begun to lead her down the sidewalk. She'd kept her head down as cars passed and pulled his jacket a little more securely around her shoulders to try and conceal her party outfit.

He released her hand and as they'd walked she'd listed as he'd shared his story with her. She couldn't help but feel guilty now for having given him such a hard time before. Sounded like the poor guy had really been through a lot.

It didn't take long for them to reach the 'Blues Corner' at all. It was strange to think that she'd been living so close to a place for so long and had been so completely unaware of its existence. How many times must she have driven right by, him playing his guitar inside, and she'd had no idea...

Her thoughts were interrupted as an older man opened the door and warmly greeted Walter. She smiled at their exchange, but grew a little nervous again when the man instantly recognized her before any introduction from Walter. Still, his smile seemed kind and she returned it with one of her own as she thanked him and stepped inside with Walter.

"So...'The Puppet'?" she asked Walter with a playful nudge, "We can trust your friend Ray to keep it hush hush about you helping me spring the coop tonight, right?"
 
Walter laughs, 'The Puppet' he thinks to himself. Everyone develops a nickname at some point here. Just glad his was that one.

He looks over at her and smiles "Yeah...Puppet on the strings" he laughs. "Better than Pinocchio!"

"We can trust your friend Ray to keep it hush hush about you helping me spring the coop tonight, right?"

"Ray, no one would believe him if he said anything. Besides, Mrs May would kill him." Walter takes her hand again in an effort to ease her mind. "People here will respect you for you."

He leads Elle through an archway and into a seating area. Tables line the floor, none match and neither do the chairs. A small stage sits at the back brick wall, with instruments lining it. The bar is full and crowded as Walter searches for a place to sit.

The crowd is an older crowd, no one within thier age range. Many look Elle's direction, a smile here and there, but no one approaches. Of course they know who she is, but one thing the owner, Mrs May prides herself on is discression. Over the years, tons of big names have performed here, kind of a stepping stone for blues and jazz artist.

"Here, please sit" Walter ask of Elle as they find a small table off to the side.

He pulls the chair out and removes his jacket from her shoulders. He helps her slide the chair under the table. An older lady walks to the table, wipes it down. "Good to see you back Walter. It's been a while" placing some coaster in front of them. "You know that old coot Ray is going to want hear you play."


"I don't know. I didn't bring it with me tonight" he says, looking up at her. "Good to see nothing here has changed."

"No, nothing here has changed" She says with a smile before looking down at Elle "Can I get you something to drink dear?"
 
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