As Joe was studying the women and Michelle, he had been ignoring the other man in the room. Well, because if he looked at him, he’d get tongue-tied for sure. Sitting next to Joe was one of the stars of the last successful knock-off of the Original Big Bang. Joe swallowed an “uh” and gulped back an “eep.” Then the power-house-behind-half-of-Hollywood smiled so slowly that Joe nearly swallowed his tongue.
“You’ve seen my show?” he ducked his head like it was more of a burden than a joy that he had the face of one of the most beloved characters on all of VR.
“Only the free episodes,” Joe admitted. “They were great.” What he’d also done was read all about how he was the current Hollywood VR magic maker. If he picked someone, they made it. Joe did a double-blink trying to find the VR edges of the screen. It was a prank. Dr. Fuckhead was messing with him.
“I’m looking to sign you and your program,” the mini-god of Hollywood said, and Joe looked under his chair. Then he took a huge bite of the flaky pastry that was too bland for Tami’s level of cooking. When the pastry exploded all over everything from Joe to the mini-god of Hollywood, Joe had trouble swallowing.
“I tried to tell you,” Michelle murmured to the big man. “He’s too skittish for this level of blindside. You’ve got to let him get there.”
“I’m not here to baby him into accepting me,” Big-man said, a laugh still in his eyes. “I make people. If he doesn’t grab the opportunity, then he’s not as all that as you thought he was. I know you think you can find talent in the prison system, but I don’t agree. He’s not ready. Let him deal with a lesser agent for a while and then come crawling in.”
“Wow,” Joe butted in, brushing flakes from his shirt, but only managing to scatter them further. “That was quite a mouthful of words that were both condescending and insulting.” Where had Joe gotten that spine? Joe was half-sure that this was some sick prank or joke. Maybe a dream or nightmare or something. “Dr. Dickhead used that kind of good-cop/bad-cop negotiating tactics too, so this is not convincing me to trust anyone here.”
“There’s his spine,” Big-man laughed and it was exactly like Joe remembered from his show. The guy was a lot older now, but he still commanded a room. “Good. That’s a good sign. Sorry for being a prick. We can get serious now.”
Joe gave him a look like he’d stood up and pissed in Joe’s coffee. “I’m not jumping in bed with yet another asshole who’s going to try to own me or trick me or push me around!”
“Not even for a six-figure salary, big house, and company car?” Big-man challenged Joe, and it just got Joe mad. Like the stupid, crazy kind of mad because most of Joe knew he was supposed to be sitting down and saying yes sir and no sir a lot.
“Not even for a full copy of my original cast and crew, which the prison is probably deleting as we speak,” Joe stood up to say too loudly back at Mr. Hollywood. “Not for that six-figure slavery contract, or for a house and car you can hold over my head anytime you want to push into my programming to tell me I’ve been a bad boy! I’m a person! A real live person! I’m not some doll you can take out and play with just because you have a bunch of money and are bored of people kissing your ass.”
The women had paled, leaning back in their chairs to get further from Joe. Michelle looked up and away, covering her mouth in a swish to try to wipe away a smile. Big-man cocked his head to the side and perused Joe like a side of beef, his eyebrows hiked into his receding hairline. Joe's stomach sank. He’d been under a lot of pressure but was that really an excuse for blowing the best chance he’d ever had at getting up out of the gutter? Who was Joe to think he could do it all on his own?
“Crazy, stupid, or genius?” Big-man blew out a breath and directed his question to Michelle.
“Look, Dad, I’m not sure, honestly,” Michelle shook her head. Joe didn’t hear what came next. Dad? Dad!?!?!?!? Yeah, Joe was so out of his league.
“Where are you going?” Big-man called out to Joe as he pushed back from the table and stood to leave, the women following but not to catch him, rather running away from him and his wild insubordination.
“I’m going out to that office there with the handsome secretary,” Joe stated, shuffling toward the door. “I’m going to grab my duffle bag from wherever the guy stashed it, and I’m going across the street to have another overpriced cup of coffee while I search my phone for someone that’ll take me as a client after they hear about this.”
“Joe, wait!” Michelle was saying, but Joe could barely hear her over Big-man’s laughter. Joe just figured he didn’t have a chance. All this was so far above his pay grade that he shouldn’t even be breathing this air. His little show was not something that was worthy of Mr. Dream-maker, not even the girl-wonder of said Dream-maker. It was just a show.
“Joe!” Michelle called again, but Joe was halfway to the elevators by the time she caught up with him.
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“How bad am I going to be blackballed?” Joe forced himself to ask, hitting the button for the second time because it was the only thing keeping him from crying. Then he started to bang his head against the wall over the elevator call button.
“Joe, listen, this is serious,” Michelle stood between him and the elevator. “We really do want your show. At least I do. Dad can be a pill and he’s too old-school to be politically correct, but he’ll grow on you.”
“You want me to believe that the biggest Dream-makers in Hollywood want my little show,” Joe punched the button again. Why was it taking so long? Had they shut them down? Was this really a VR where they could do that? The World AI would have done it to Joe on his show. Did it matter?
“Your little show got two million viewers in seventeen days,” Michelle announced.
“So? I can’t be the first,” Joe sulked, looking into her eyes and seeing frustration in Slick’s gaze.
“You’re the first to do it from the prison system, with a prison pod, against the machinations of the warden of said prison disliking you,” she ticked stuff off as the doors opened to the elevators.
“And there’s a lot of how bad of a prisoner I am in all that,” Joe twirled his finger in a crazy motion around his ear even as he ducked around her to get into the elevator.
“And you did it with a prison set of AIs that aren’t even designed for good programming,” she held the door open.
“They were fabulous AIs!” Joe argued back with renewed ire. “What they didn’t know, they learned to do!”
“That’s what I’m talking about Joe!” she held the door even as it started to protest. “Nobody’s taken a NOOB network show from zero to over two million with prison-crippled AI systems and no programming. Nobody. Not ever!”
“That can’t be right,” and Joe pressed the close-door button insistently. “The AIs did most of the work and I don’t have them anymore.” The last choked out and Joe fought back burning in his eyes by looking at the numbers over the door that couldn’t move because she was holding the door open.
“Would it change anything if I said I could get your specific AI programs back?” Michelle gave up holding back the doors and just got in the elevator with Joe. It was like she’d kicked Joe in the gut.
“You really think Dr. Psychofuckhead is going to do anything to help me?” Joe crossed his arms over his chest and looked at the numbers on the elevator like they were going to save his life. “He hates me.”
“The only reason he hates you is that you refused to make any money for him,” Michelle explained, but it was like she was talking to a child. “He gets a commission of all program profits.”
“Figures,” Joe threw his hands up, then crossed them over his chest to keep from making childish tantrum movements. “That’s just more reason to not make money for him,” Joe fisted his hands and straightened his arms at his sides, but no matter what he did, he felt like a child next to these people. “People like him are what’s wrong with everything! They have all the power and get paid to be sadists. If you even try to fight back, they always win in the end. What you really mean is that you could buy out those AIs and fill his corrupt pocket with a chunk of money! How does that change anything?” Joe was surprised to find that he was yelling, but the elevator was empty except for the two of them.
“Maybe you need to pick your battles!” Michelle shouted back at him. “Let money pay this bill and then hit him back. You can do that out here! You can say what you want to say, the things they didn’t let you say before. Isn’t that worth a paycheck to the guy you want to put out of business?”
“I couldn’t put him out of business if I had a million dollars!” Joe complained.
“You don’t need a million dollars; you have two million viewers!” she looked like she wanted to shake Joe.
“What are you saying?” Joe challenged her, the elevator halfway to the lobby.
“I’m saying you can put your Dr. Psychofuckhead in your show and kill him over and over again for all I care!” She was yelling pretty loudly now, and Joe was ashamed to say he was listening better because of it. Seeing Ms. Slick lose her cool and get a little red around the ears was gratifying in a perverse way that Joe liked. “You can slam the prison system and everything about it or you could just expose Dr. Psychofuckhead as the sadistic bastard he is. You could make your own prison and run it differently. I. Don’t! Care!!”
“No, I couldn’t,” Joe nearly whispered in that echoing elevator.
“Why do you think that?” she demanded, trying to lower her voice to match Joe's, but still alarmingly flushed.
“Defamation of character,” Joe insisted. “There are laws against this stuff. Hell, there were laws against me minding my own business! What’s going to stop all those assholes like Dr. Psychomoron from finding some trumped up charge to get me under their thumb again.”
“That’s why you need me and yes, my dad,” she stood in front of Joe, her back to the elevator door, maybe to try to stop Joe from bolting the second it opened. “We have a staff of lawyers who just love to fight people like that. What we don’t have is someone with the nerve to call them out on their bullshit.”
The elevator doors opened on the lobby and a small group of folks waiting to ride up stood there gaping at the scene they were making. They couldn’t get in because Ms. Slick stood in the doorway of the elevator blocking everyone. Joe thought for sure someone was going to get mad or protest, but they turned away from the scene like it could be contagious.
“I’m a nobody!” Joe finally shouted at her. “Invisible! Incapable of making a difference even if I had a billion viewers!” Did a part of Joe think that if he shouted that someone would come to his aid? If so, that was stupid because Michelle was just another one of those people that were born with the clout to do what they wanted and get away with anything. “You don’t know what it means to wake up convicted of social ineptitude! You would never be tossed in a program where everyone gets to see you stripped of all dignity and rights, with programs specifically designed to torture you into compliance in a way that entertains the public! And for what? So, some sadist can make some money?! No. Thank! YOU!!”
“The only reason you couldn’t change anything was because you didn’t have someone like me backing you,” Michelle tried to explain, but how could she understand?
“What’s the catch?” Joe planted his feet. “I’d just be going from one sadistic, control freak to another. How are you going to be different? Not only are you going to BUY my old programs and put money in that sadist’s pocket, but then you’re going to own me, and I’ll be stuck with whatever sadistic rules you want to put on me.”