Linkin Park Fan Fic #1

1
The name was stupid – WebLoser Designs – but business was thriving. 6 major clients, all destined for commercial and worldwide success and 4 up-and-comers with mad potential. Even though the company had been in its rented establishment in downtown Los Angeles almost a year, it still looked like they had just moved in yesterday.

This didn’t bother Sophie one bit. She lived for the chaos; strict order made her nervous. Her desk was tucked into a corner behind a large ficus tree with two portable cork boards forming the other two “walls” of her “office”. Tacked to the corkboards were mental notes, pictures of friends and family, and lists of clients, employees, contacts, and other miscellaneous info Sophie deemed necessary for day-to-day function.

She sat behind her desk, leaning back in her second-hand office chair, feet propped on the desk. In her lap was her keyboard, on which she was typing furiously. Propped under her left ear was the telephone receiver and periodically she would mumble approval or disapproval into it. She glanced quickly at the switchboard on the phone and noticed lines 2 and 3 were flashing. She made excuses to the person on line 1 and connected to line 2.

“WebLoser Designs, Sophie speaking,” she said automatically, having said it at least a dozen or so times that day alone. It was Nick, her contact at Warner Bros. Records. One of the indie bands she worked with was in negotiations with them for a record deal and he wanted to know if she had heard from them lately, since she was their liaison at the moment. “Nope, Scottie hasn’t called me in at least a week. Maybe he’s talked to someone else in the office and I haven’t been told. Margie has been helping me with this band so I’ll patch you in to her,” Sophie said, swinging her legs off the desk and standing up as far as the phone cord would allow her. She motioned to Margie, whose desk was across the room from her. She mimed that she was patching a call in to her and when Margie gave her the OK sign she sat back down and redirected the call.

Such was life at WebLoser Designs. Pretty soon she would be getting more calls from other record companies wanting to know about the bands she represented, as well as calls from small club owners wanting to host a band for an evening or set of consecutive weekends, and from indie bands wanting to reach a larger audience.
The purpose of WebLoser Designs was to design sites for unsigned bands that were serious about being signed to major labels and to promote them heavily through the sites and through street teams. Sophie and her crew were responsible for creating or revamping web sites, getting bands gigs at local establishments, coordinating street teams – both of the online and real street varieties, and making contacts at record companies in the greater San Diego/Los Angeles area. Once a band was signed to a label, WebLoser Designs was contracted to maintain the sites and street teams. So far they had one success under their collective belt, a band that went by the name TAP from New York State that transplanted to Encinitas around the same time WebLoser relocated from Sophie’s living room to its present location. Sophie had gone to high school in New York with the band members. She started WebLoser right after she graduated college and moved to Encinitas shortly after. She had immediately got a job interning at MCA in San Diego and used her connections there to start WebLoser, which soon moved from her Encinitas apartment and into its current location in L.A. She ran into a few members of TAP on a trip home and casually mentioned her infant business and they readily agreed to be her first client. They already had a cult following in their hometown and a homemade EP and were looking for a larger audience. Sophie was the link they had been looking for. As they say, the rest is history.

But Sophie still felt WebLoser had a long way to go. She didn’t feel like it was an established business. One reason was she didn’t have a logo record companies and bands could recognize. That was what the staff meeting was about that morning. No one could agree on which design company to go through or if they should just design their own. Sophie tried to stress that, while WebLoser had a few talented artists, it would be a better idea to solicit outside sources first. The other 15 employees at WebLoser were divided – half with Sophie and half against. The logo problem was shelved for a moment in favor of working on a plan to make the offices look more professional and hospitable not only for themselves but for clients and potential clients as well. When the meeting adjourned, Sophie hadn’t been at her desk two minutes before her phone started ringing off the hook.

“Great, and when I have a zillion messages to return,” she muttered, trying to find a little piece of sanity on her desk so she could take notes if necessary. The first dozen or so calls were trivial, mostly confirming meetings with clients and potential clients, confirming spots on rosters at clubs and bars for bands, and finalizing a meet-and-greet with a record store for TAP.

In between taking notes, readjusting part of a web page she was working on, and trying to bring some order to her surroundings, Sophie received a phone call that made her drop everything and do all that she could to hold back screaming with glee. When she hung up, she did just that, invoking her employees to peek around the corners of her corkboards and the ficus, which needed water badly, to see what the problem was.

“Something wrong Soph?” Margie asked tentatively, peeking over the edge of one of the corkboards.

“Something’s right Margie. Something’s finally right!” Sophie exclaimed, getting up from her desk, sending a mass of papers fluttering every which way and a few lights still flashing on her telephone. Sophie danced around the office arms spread out, with total abandon.

“Soph...” Margie started, really worried now.

“You guys will never in a million years believe who just called!” Sophie looked around at her stunned employees, who were watching their superior apparently lose her mind. Not noticing that no one was responding, Sophie continued. “WebLoser Designs has been contracted by Warner Brothers to help revamp Linkin Park’s web site!” Sophie practically shouted. Everyone else looked at each other in amazement. They had finally hit the Big Time.

2
The office at Warner Bros. Records she was to have her meeting in was, by her estimation, about the same size as the living room of her parents’ ranch-style home back in New York. It was sparsely furnished, the main feature being the oblong mahogany table dominating the room. Around it were a dozen or so cushioned chairs and off to one side was a projector, which would come in handy with her initial presentation.

Sophie sat near the projector at one end of the table. She absent-mindedly fidgeted with one of her bracelets, grateful the meeting wasn’t so formal. She took comfort in the fact she had gone a little more conservative that day, opting for her best JNCOs and a polo-style shirt. Her white and blue Adidas sneakers, well worn, looked nearly brand new. She half listened to the label representative, Nick, who sat to her right. On the other side of him sat Mark, the current head web designer, who seemed as if having Sophie in the room was an insult to his character. Nick was going over how the meeting with the band would go and what it was she and her company would be contracted to do.

Soon, voices filtered into the room from down the hall.

“They’re he-er,” Mark sang, amused at his own attempt at humor.

The first recognizable voice was Brad’s. “Please, just be good,” he instructed, taking on a mother hen attitude.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I’ll be the image of sanity,” Chester replied, clearly shrugging off Brad’s attitude.

“Same goes for you, Joe. Keep Remy and Mr. Hahn and your thousand and five other personalities in check, aight?”

“Why, whatever do you mean?” Joe asked, feigning hurt by Brad’s insinuation.

“Would you guys knock it off? The can prolly hear us,” Rob threw in his two cents, aware of how echo-y the halls were.

Sophie laughed to herself. She knew of the goofball antics of the band members and wondered what she was getting herself into. Still, the prospect of working with one of her favorite bands made her giddy.

The members of Linkin Park entered the office one by one – first Phoenix, followed by Rob, Brad, Mike, and Joe, with Chester riding piggyback. They took their seats around the table and introductions were made.

Sophie made a brief presentation and sat anxiously as the hard copy of the main page she designed circulated around the table. Phoenix and Rob seemed to approve. Brad was clearly impressed and wasn’t shy about saying so. Chester seemed indifferent. Sophie’s main focus was on Joe and Mike, who had the artistic backgrounds. Their approval meant a lot to her and it made her nervous that they were taking longer with the hard copy than the other guys had. She was even a little intimidated by Joe and Mike, felt like a fraud because all she had was a degree in writing and was trying to do artistic things with logos and the overall design for the web site. Her artistic abilities were limited to the crude doodles she used to make in the margins of her notebooks in school and her ability to manipulate images in PhotoShop.

Her worry was for nothing. The band unanimously agreed that Sophie should redesign their web site. Since Slice had worked on the current incarnation of the site, he took the role as content manager and general supervisor, much to Sophie’s disgust though she hid it well.

“I don’t see why we need to hold off signing this any longer than necessary,” Nick said, passing a sheet of paper and a pen to Sophie. She eagerly signed her name. There was light applause as she set the pen down, which made her blush a little.

“Welcome to the Linkin Park family,” Mike said, extending his hand.

Sophie returned the handshake, overcome a little by the attention she was receiving. She couldn’t take her gaze off his soulful, intense eyes. Wow, she thought. She lightly shook her head, pretending to brush a loose strand of hair out of her face. Compose yourself, chica. Can’t be running around losing yourself like that, she thought.

***

“You’re like one of those success stories in those late night infomercials. ‘Buy this book and make millions’ or something,” Brad said after Sophie told them how she started WebLoser Designs. Sophie had gone to lunch with the guys and even though she only knew them a few hours, she felt like she had known them forever.

“Gee, thanks Brad. You make it sound like I’m a millionaire or something.”

“You're not?!” his tone was playful.

“Unless millionaires nowadays live in 3 room apartments in dark back alleys and drive cars bought at garage sales,” Sophie laughed at her own poverty.

“I thought your company was doing well?” Rob asked, stealing a few of Chester’s french fries. Chester swatted at his wrist.

“Bills and employees and rent to pay,” Sophie replied. She gave a resigned sigh, hating the truth of the matter.

“Where is your company at anyway?” Phoenix asked, hoping for a field trip.

“About two blocks from here actually,” Sophie replied, finishing off her soda.

“Can we go see?” Chester asked, flashing a brilliant smile, as if that would convince Sophie to give them the grand tour.

“Only if you’re good,” Sophie teased.

“Even if I’m not,” Chester replied quickly, a devilish grin on his face.

***

The shades were drawn in the two picture windows but it was obvious the lights were on. Sophie held the door as the guys filed into the building. They took in the makeshift workstations and still unpacked boxes. There were faded spots on one wall where the previous business’ sign had once been. Organized chaos.

“So, uh, where’s your office, Soph?” Mike asked, not quite sure what to make of the place.

“Behind the ficus,” Sophie replied. Sophie’s “office” looked as if the contents of one of the boxes that were scattered around the room had been tipped upside down over it, its contents coating every surface possible and then some.

“You have a tree?” Brad commented, not bothering to conceal the fact he found it funny.

“Got a problem with my ficus, Brad?” Sophie replied in a playfully menacing tone.

He stuck his tongue out at her. She flipped him off.

Joe giggled. “Ficus,” he said, accenting the word in a way that made him laugh harder.

“Crazy lil fucker,” Phoenix said, mostly to himself. He suddenly looked around and noticed Chester standing off to one side, looking either disturbed or possessed; he couldn’t tell which. “Um, Chester? Buddy? You okay there?”

Everyone looked over at Chester, who was hugging himself and slowly rocking back and forth on his heels. He was quietly muttering, “Unclean!” over and over again. He shot anyone that dared approach him a look that said he’d go ballistic if they tried.
Mike leaned in close to Sophie and whispered, “He’s got this thing for order. Gets obsessive about it. Goes nuts if a sock is left lying around. This is like hell on earth to him.”

She did all she could to maintain her composure. “I see,” Sophie replied, covering the smile on her face with the back of her hand. She felt bad for laughing but the sight of Chester freaking out because her desk was messy struck her as funny at the moment. And she knew she was also spazzing out because Mike was so close to her. Dammit chica! Get a grip on your sorry self! she scolded herself.

“Chester,” Rob said in a measured tone, “are you okay? Want a glass of water?” Chester shook his head. “Sit down? I can get a chair.” No good. Then Rob got an idea. “Want a mop, Chaz?” The expression on Rob’s face was hopeful. Chester nodded affirmative enthusiastically.

Sophie tracked down all the necessary cleaning supplies Chester would need and, like a little kid in a sandbox, he began to make little piles of things and began to bring order to Sophie’s “office”.

While Chester was otherwise occupied, Sophie gave the others the rest of the “grand tour” of WebLoser Designs. She introduced them to the staff that was around and showed them some of the projects they were working on. She noticed whenever she looked up at them, Mike was always staring at the walls, as if lost in another world. Curious, she left the rest to admire a project she was helping Margie on and stood next to Mike.

“Earth to Mike, come in Mike. Over,” she said, poking his shoulder. He looked at her out of the corner of his eye and smiled. I’m melting again, she thought, letting herself indulge in it this time. “What’s up? Don’t tell me you’re going crazy too,” she said, giggling.

“Nah, we all save the insanity for Chaz and Joe,” he replied, still looking at one of the larger walls. “Ya know what would be great in here? Murals on the walls.”

“Offering to do ‘em?” Sophie asked jokingly.

“Sure. Gratis to boot.” He shot her one of his fantastic smiles.

I shouldn’t be beaming like this, Sophie thought, mesmerized by Mike’s smile.
Mike noticed her looking at him a little oddly, and couldn’t dismiss it. It’s her eyes, he thought. I can’t stop looking at them. “And Joe will help me. Right?” his voice raised at the end. Joe perked his head up at the sound of his name. “He’ll do it. Shouldn’t be hard to convince him,” Mike said, laughing a little. They’re so green, Mike noted the color of Sophie’s eyes. Dude, focus.

Joe came over to them and when Mike caught him up, he readily agreed to help Mike on the murals. He even suggested they design a logo for WebLoser Designs, since they were currently using a tentative one that no one liked.

While Mike and Joe discussed mural and logo ideas, Sophie and the other guys went to check on Chester. He was clearly feeling better. Sophie’s area looked wonderful, so neat and ordered. But something wasn’t right. Her ficus was gone.

“Chester, what did you do with my ficus tree?” Sophie asked.

“It was dumb so I got rid of it,” he replied matter-of-factly.

“Well get it back,” she replied insistently.

They went back and forth like this, much to their frustration and everyone else’s humor. Curious, Mike and Joe abandoned their mural discussion and went to see what was wrong.

“Sophie, Chaz, what’s up?” Mike asked, amused yet concerned. They’re greener when she’s upset, he thought.

“Chester’s trying to take away my ficus,” Sophie pouted.

“You don’t need it!” Chester insisted.

“But I love my ficus!” Sophie exclaimed, still defiant. She looked to the other guys for back up. Brad looked at his shoes. Phoenix took an unnatural interest in her small Rolodex. Rob watched Phoenix investigate the Rolodex. Mike shrugged and looked away, afraid of being sucked into her gaze. Those eyes… When her eyes locked with Joe’s, he looked like a deer caught in headlights. She gave him a look that said she demanded an answer.

He looked at his band mates frantically before replying, “Ficus gotta go, Soph.”

Sophie’s heart sank. “But… but…” she sounded defeated.

Chester smirked. “Maybe she loves it,” he teased.

The guys laughed. “Do ya, Soph?” Mike inquired, his eyebrows raised.

She knew he was kidding but it didn’t help that he was picking on her too. Him… Sophie let out a resigned sigh.

Chester’s face became serious for a moment, taking on a look of pondering. “Do ya have dirty thoughts about your ficus, Soph?” he asked, sounding more like a talk show host or therapist than a lead singer. “Say dirty things to it? Make dirty ficus love to it when on one’s around?” Chester maintained his composure but his band mates doubled over with laughter. Sophie made a face and decided to let the issue drop.

3
Sophie assumed not putting a hiatus sign on her door, a customary practice, would let her have a few uninterrupted minutes to herself. She brought a blanket and a few pillows up to the roof of her apartment building to have a little coffee and do a little stargazing.

“There you are,” Mike said, standing over her. Sophie looked up, and when she recognized who was talking she scooted over so he could join her. He sensed something wrong. Her eyes are clouded, he thought, sitting Indian-style on the blanket. “What’s wrong?”

Sophie took a long sip of her coffee to organize her thoughts. It had been six weeks since she was hired to redesign the web site and while she was excited to be taking on such a large project, Mark wasn’t making it easy for her.

“It’s nothing really. Mark is on a power trip and giving me a hard time,” she finally said.

Mike frowned. Once again Mark was causing trouble when it was unnecessary. It bothered him that Sophie was his newest casualty. “Don’t put up with his shit, Sophie. You don’t need that.”

“I can handle him. He just grates on my nerves,” she replied, staring off into the sky.

“He has that affect on people,” Mike replied, stealing her coffee mug and taking a sip. He grimaced. “Eww! Mocha sludge!”

Sophie laughed. “Don’t be dissin’ my sludge, Shinoda,” she replied, smirking. She picked up a pillow and set it down in his lap. She laid back and closed her eyes a moment, content. Mike smoothed the hair near her temples. Sophie’s heart beat wildly. Easy, girl, she thought. She looked up at him and he smiled. I’m melting, her inner voice sang. “So why are you here?” she asked, hoping her voice didn’t sound as strange to him as it did to her.

“Well, Rob tried calling and you didn’t answer your cell and got your machine so they voted that I come over and see what’s up. There was no sign on the door but I assumed you were up here. You’re awfully predictable sometimes,” he answered. Why are you lying? his inner voice asked. You wanted to see her. Quit acting 14 and admit it to yourself.

“I see. Well, you found me,” Sophie said. Not really content with his explanation but finding no reason to doubt him, Sophie inquired about the last leg of the tour Linkin Park had just come off of. Mike eagerly told of the crazy antics of he and his band mates over the past six weeks – the booze, the fans, possibly discoverring Joe had a new personality, Chester’s almost ritualistic showing of his ass. Mike shook his head. “We’re insane,” he laughed.

Sophie smiled, half wishing she hadn’t had to be the head of a web design company. Life on the road fascinated her and she was a little disappointed that the band was home on break for four weeks. At the same time she was glad they were; Mike and Joe were going to start their murals soon and she as looking forward to chilling with the whole band.

She stood up and walked over to where the fire escape met the top of the building. She looked over the edge and into the dark alley below. Why does this feel so awkward? she wondered to herself, turning around. Mike was stretched out on the blanket, the pillow that had been in his lap now behind his head.

Mike stared up at the sky. He gave up trying to ignore the recurring memory he’d been having all night. One night, as their tour bus made its way to a venue, Brad had confronted Mike. He was concerned about his friend and noted his odd behavior hadn’t gone unnoticed.

“I know something’s up,” Brad had said. Mike hadn’t answered, just stared out the window. Ever since he met Sophie he couldn’t get her out of his head. Her eyes, her smile, her laugh – all embedded in his mind. He hated how confused and helpless he felt. He said nothing.

Brad’s efforts at finding out what the matter was were futile, but, more or less to ease his own mind, he told Mike he was there for him. Mike vaguely nodded, still staring out the window.

“Whatcha thinking?” Sophie asked, sitting next to Mike on the blanket. He turned his head to look at her, their eyes met.

“Nothing. I should get going anyway. I’m intruding on your alone time,” Mike said suddenly, getting up

4
Monday morning was an onslaught of phone calls, meetings, and one very inconvenient computer crash.

“I don’t care if you sprout little wings and fly here, JUST GET HERE FAST!” Sophie screamed, frustrated, into the telephone, slamming it down when she was done. She took a minute to compose herself. “They’re coming,” she said to James, whose computer decided it didn’t want to function anymore. She gave him a hopeful smile. “Meanwhile, why don’t you free-hand the layout for that band that was in here last week from Corona.”

With that crisis temporarily dealt with, Sophie busied herself with the layout she was working on for Linkin Park’s web site. She no more than got the file open when the phone rang. “WebLoser Designs, Sophie speaking,” she recited without thinking.

“Hey Soph, it’s Joe.”

“What’s up?” she asked, relieved to hear a familiar voice.

“Just wanted to tell ya that Mike and I will be over around 11. Is that cool?” Sophie said it would be fine. “Great. Hey Soph, was Mike acting alright last night?”

She felt her mouth go dry. “Um, he was aight. A little preoccupied, but fine.” She waited tentatively for Joe’s response. “Why?” she asked when he didn’t answer right away.

“No reason. He seemed quite to me, too. Maybe just drained from the tour; you know how berserk her gets on stage.”

Sophie laughed. His logic seemed reasonable enough. Maybe he was right.

***

Joe’s logic seemed accurate. When he and Mike showed up an hour later, paint, pencils, sketches, and drop cloths in tow, no sign of last night’s awkwardness was apparent in Mike’s demeanor.

“Morning, sunshine!” he said exuberantly. Sophie waved at him from behind her computer screen. “Working hard or hardly working?” he teased, coming over to Sophie’s desk in the back of the room. She gave him an exasperated look and pointed to her screen, which displayed the rough layout of the discography section of Linkin Park’s web site. He nodded his approval.

“Where’s Joey?” she asked, not missing a beat with her work.

“Up front arranging things,” Mike replied, sitting on the corner of the desk. It was still clean. “The other guys are gonna come by around noon and we’re taking you out to lunch,” he said, watching her deftly move the mouse, pointing and clicking with lightning speed.

“That so? And what if I refuse?”

“We’ll make you put up with 24 uninterrupted hours of Chester.” The threat was harmless, but the suggestion was enough to drive an insane man crazy.

“Fair enough,” she replied, giggling.

***

“Tacos! Tacos! Tacos!” His voice was near demonic.

“Chester, shut up!” Phoenix, Rob, and Brad chorused as they pulled into the parking lot of a near-by Sombrero.

“NO!” he yelled, resulting in a punch in the shoulder from Joe.

“Glad I came,” Sophie muttered jokingly, slouched in the passenger’s seat of Mike’s Expedition. Mike laughed, looking at Chester in the rear view mirror.

Once Chester agreed to tone it down inside and everyone and their orders were settled in adjacent booths, Sophie inquired about the murals. Joe had set up scaffolding and hung up sheets so no one could see the two walls he and Mike were working on.

“Top Secret stuff,” was all Joe said.

“I’m not at liberty to divulge the info you requested,” Mike added.

Sophie scowled. “Not nice to withhold from the Boss,” she said accusingly.

The conversation turned to other things, namely a meeting Sophie recently had with the ever-popular Mark.

She sighed, annoyed. “I don’t see how you guys do it,” she said. “He keeps making me do things over because ‘it’s not what I had in mind’,” she said, mockingly.
Brad laughed. “That’s Mark for ya.”

“I just like to have the creative control of the projects I’m working on, ya know? He’s suppose to be a supervisor and guide, not a dictator,” she said, absently playing with her straw wrapper.

***

“Hey, Ches,” Sophie said when she noticed him enter the WebLoser office later that evening. Mike and Joe were working on their murals up front and didn’t see him come in.

“What’s up sunshine?” he asked, mentally noting Sophie’s area was still the cleanest in the entire room. He smiled, more or less to himself.

“Just about to take a break actually. Come keep me company,” Sophie replied, grabbing her sweater.

She and Chester sat against the wall of the building in the alley, Sophie taking occasional drags from her cigarrette.

“How’s the site coming?” he asked. Sophie rolled her eyes in exasperation. Mark was still being a hardass. “Oh-kay,” Chester said.

“How long are you guys home for?” Sophie asked, already knowing the answer but wanting a change of subject.

“4 weeks, then we head to Europe for 3 months,” he answered, watching the smoke from her cigarrete drift around them. “Wanna come? I think I can squeeze ya into one of my trunks.” He smiled wildly.

“And mess up your obsessive compulsive organizing? Pass,” she replied, giggling.

“You could always hide out in Mike’s stuff,” he said half-joking. He shot her an amused yet curious look.

Sophie’s insides seized at the mention of Mike’s name. She stared at her feet but could sense Chester watching for a reaction. Say something before he gets suspicious, she thought, knowing it was probably already too late. She said nothing.

“You like him?” Chester asked, being more serious now.

“Never think of him like that,” Sophie replied. Liar .

“He’s a good guy, Sophie,” Chester said, standing up. He held out a hand to help her up. She accepted, and tossed the reminants of her cigarrette into a nearby puddle when she was on her feet.

“I know he is,” she said quietly.

5
It was overcast and cool, but Sophie decided she needed to be outside. She was cozy in her oversized sweatshirt and pulled the hood up over her head. Chester’s words echoed in her head. "You like him?" She wasn’t sure, but all the signs were there: dry mouth, rapid heart, sudden giddiness, jelly knees. So why did I lie? she wondered. "He’s a good guy, Sophie," Chester had added. She sighed. Wish Mike was here, she thought.

As if he were a genie, Mike appeared before her.

“Hey,” he greeted her, hands in the pockets of his beige courderoys.

Sophie jumped a little at the sound of his voice. “Hey you,” she said when the initial shock wore off. She scooted over so her could sit next to her. “What’s up?”

“Just wanted to stop in to see my favorite web designer,” he replied. He moved her hood back so he could see her face. “Who are you hiding from?” he asked, holding his breath a little as a few stray bits of her hair fell from her loose ponytail and brushed against his fingers. Easy, Mike, he reminded himself.

Sophie’s laugh sounded distant. “No one,” she replied, putting the hood back up. She shoved her hands in the front pocket, slid up next to Mike, and put her head on his shoulder. “I’m just tired. I’ve been working so hard on your site. I need a break.”

He put his arm around her and rested his head on hers. “If you want to take a few days and just chill that’s cool with us,” Mike said, becoming the group’s unofficial spokesman. He could smell the various scents that had attached themselves to her hoodie – smoke, her shampoo, and a more pleasant one that he couldn’t place but enjoyed very much. She shivered a little. “Are you cold?” he asked, automatically putting his other arm around her.

“This is L.A., it’s not supposed to be cold here. What gives?” she thought aloud, allowing herself to sink into his arms. This is so nice, she thought. She closed her eyes for a second, letting the moment consume her. She tried to think of something to say. “How’s the murals coming?” she finally asked.

“I can’t wait for you to see them. They’re tight!” he replied, smiling. He quickly added, “But that won’t be any time soon. They’re not ready yet.”

“You and Joe have been putting in a lot of hours on them. I have high expectations, Mike Shinoda. You better not disappoint,” Sophie said in an unconvincingly stern tone. Mike chuckled. She took her hands out of her pocket and slipped her arms around him. May as well, she thought. Just gotta remember to behave. Don’t go reading into this, Sophie Melyssa , she warned herself. “Sing to me,” she said randomly.

“Huh?”

“Sing to me. Anything, I don’t care.”

“What brought this on?” Mike asked, still internally reeling over her arms around him.

“I love your voice. Sing, please.” Her voice was soft but insistent.

“Any requests?”

“Surprise me.”

Mike thought for a moment before softly singing ‘Stellar’, the last song he had heard on the radio as he drove over to Sophie’s apartment.

She hugged him lightly in approval of his choice. As he sang, Mike pulled her closer so that she was nearly in his lap. Too bad there aren’t any stars out, otherwise this would be perfect, Sophie thought, glancing up at the cloud-ridden sky. There were traces of gaps in the clouds but she couldn’t detect any stars, though the moon was playing peek-a-boo.

“What are you looking at?” he asked when the song ended, looking at the sky.

“Scanning the heavens for stars,” she said, deciding that it was hopeless to find any stars that night. “Guess we’re too much in town to see any,” she added, turning to look up at Mike. Her eyes met his and she smiled. Oh boy, she thought.

There’s those eyes, Mike thought when she turned to look at him. He smiled back. She looks so beautiful tonight. He gazed into her eyes for a while, studying how the shadows of her hood fell across her face. He became very aware of how close to each other they were.

Sophie realized it too and pulled back a bit. I’m gonna regret this one, she thought, but I can’t let this happen. She let him go and moved away. “I’m sorry,” she muttered, putting her hands back in her pocket.

***

Mike had walked her back downstairs and made sure she was safely locked inside her apartment before he left. As he pulled away and drove slowly into the night toward his own apartment, he ran over the night in his mind. What had caused her sudden unease? Probably the same thing that caused mine, he thought, waiting at a stoplight. The moment got too cozy and he knew if she hadn’t pulled back like that they would have kissed. Did he want that? He wasn’t sure.

When he reached his apartment and let himself in, he decided against watching tv and went right to bed. He lay on his back, staring at the shadows on the ceiling. “I should have kissed her,” he said into the darkness. But why did she pull away?
She seemed to be into it , he thought as he drifted off.

Across town, Sophie had rested against the door when Mike left, her eyes closed, mentally kicking herself. “But I can’t do this,” she said aloud into the empty apartment. Why? she asked herself. Is it because he’s Mike of Linkin Park? Is it because you refuse to get involved with clients? she wondered to herself, turning out the hall light and closing her bedroom door. She snuggled under the covers and hugged one of her pillows. She could still feel his arms around her. She sighed. There’s something else that’s not occurring to me and that’s why I can’t get into this, she thought, closing her eyes and dozing off.

6
A day off was exactly what Sophie needed. She called Margie early to warn her she wouldn’t be coming in that day.

“But what about the LP site? Won’t you get behind?” Margie asked, worried.

“No. Nick never gave me a definite deadline and Mark can kiss my ass,” Sophie replied, measuring coffee into the filter. “Besides, I’ve been out straight with this site. I need a break. and Mikey said it was aight.”

“Mikey?” Margie asked, curious at Sophie’s familiar use of the name. “Something up, Soph?”

“Oh, c’mon Margie! It’s too early for this. And it’s a ridiculous idea anyway,” Sophie replied, slightly annoyed. Is it? she thought.

That question plauged her long after she hung up the phone. No, she rationalized, it’s not ridiculous. The thought bothered her and she tried to distract herself but was unable to. She wandered into her bedroom and clicked on her stereo. The sounds of her [Hybrid Theory] cd filled the room. Mike’s voice soon surrounded her. She turned the stereo off and went back out into the living room. As if the tv gods were against her too, the video for In The End was on the screen. “Fuck you, MTV,” Sophie muttered, turning the tv off.

Some day off this is turning out to be, she thought, going back into her room. She crawled back into bed and pulled the comforter over her head so she wouldn’t have to look at the Linkin Park posters and pictures she had up on her walls.

***

She met Margie for lunch at Sombrero. They ate outside on one of the tables.

“Joe and Mike came in this morning,” Margie said, watching Sophie’s expression. Her face didn’t change but her eyes sparkled. “They were looking for you,” she added.

“I see,” Sophie replied with her mouth half-full. She took a sip of her root beer. “Tell them I say hey,” she said.

“Will do,” Margie said. “They seem really nice. I can’t believe they want WebLoser to redo their site.” She looked at Sophie, who was scooping up taco run-off off her tray with her fingers. “Okay, I so sounded like a teenie just then.” She giggled.

“Margie, you are the Ultimate Teenie,” Sophie teased. She jabbed a spork in Margie’s direction playfully.

“Thanks for the kind words, Soph,” Margie answered, flipping her off. “Are you this mean to Mike?”

Sophie let out a low growl. “Let me make one thing perfectly clear, Margie. Mike Shinoda and I are friends. F-R-I-E-N-D-S. No good could ever come from us being together.” Do I really believe this? she wondered.

“Why?” Margie asked, not buying it.

Sophie was silent for a long minute. “Because he doesn’t deserve me.”

“That’s ridiculous, Soph! Mike would be stupid not to be with you,” Margie said in a reassuring tone.

“I just don’t think it’s a good idea.”

***

“Couldn’t stay away, huh?” Joe asked later that afternoon. Since it was a Friday, most of the WebLoser employees left early and when Sophie arrived the office was nearly deserted, save Joe and Mike who were still working on their murals.

“What can I say? I missed you guys,” Sophie replied, jokingly. She switched on her computer. “Besides, I got an idea for one of the pages and I wanted to try it out before I forgot.” As her computer booted up, Sophie went over to her mini stereo and hit the play button.

Joe peeked around the corner of a sheet when the sound of country music filled the room. Sophie couldn’t really see his face because of the respirator he wore, but she could tell he was giving her a “what the hell??” look. She motioned for him to come over to her work area. Joe put his respirator around his neck and slowly walked over.

“Gone crazy, Sophie?” Joe said, nodding toward the stereo.

Sophie laughed. “No, I’m just a closet country music fan.”

Joe raised an eyebrow. “Good thing Mike’s got headphones on, otherwise he’d be throwing in his two cents about this,” he said, shaking his head in mock disapproval. “So, um, I suppose you line dance too, huh?”

“Actually, I do a little. I haven’t in a long time. I miss it,” she said, tapping her hands in time to the beat against her jeans.

“Interesting,” Joe said slowly.

Sophie giggled. She tapped off the beat on her hip and started one of the few dances she could remember, Waltz Across Texas. Joe watched, enthralled. When she had gone through the dance once, she paused the stereo and walked Joe through the steps. When he had it relatively figured out, Sophie started the song at the beginning and they did the dance together, side-by-side.

“This is kinda fun,” Joe said, his movements matching Sophie’s.

Mike picked right about that moment to take a break and stopped just outside his covered scaffolding, ventillator slung around his neck. He watched his friends move synchronously in time to the music. What the? he thought.

Joe noticed Mike watching them, an amused expression on his face. Joe motioned him over. “This is really fun, Mike. Sophie will teach ya, right?” he said, not missing a beat. Sophie nodded.

“I don’t think so,” Mike said, taking a step back. Sophie hit the stop button on the stereo and pulled Mike over to where she and Joe were dancing. “Really, this is unnecessary,” he said, but Sophie was having none of it. She quickly went through the steps and Mike picked them up as fast as she could dish them out. When she was satisfied he knew what he was doing, she restarted the song yet again and the three of them went through Waltz Across Texas in the back of the WebLoser office.

“Ya know, this can also be a couple’s dance,” Sophie said when the song ended. Why did I say that? she wondered to herself, having a real d’oh moment.

Joe raised an eyebrow. “That so?” He looked at Mike, who wasn’t showing whatever he was thinking on his face.

Dollars to donuts she’s gonna want to teach me, Mike thought, partially wanting her to.

“Wanna learn? It’s okay if ya don’t want to,” Sophie offered, a quizzical expression on her face.

“Sure,” Mike said, his voice independent of his mind.

Sophie explained what Mike’s job was for the couple’s version of Waltz Across Texas. When they were comfortable enough with each other and the dance, Sophie nodded to Joe to start the stereo again. Sophie couldn’t tell if it was her hands that were shaking or his, but they went through the motions of the dance. Whenever they faced each other, Sophie made a conscious effort to look Mike directly in his eyes.

Those eyes, Mike thought the first time she did that. He tried to keep his concentration so he wouldn’t trip.

Noticing their intense gazes and knowing the tension between them, Joe decided to make a graceful exit and go clean up his area up front and leave them alone. Before going behind his curtain, Joe looked back at Mike and Sophie. They look real good together, he thought. I hope this works out. He went behind the curtain to clean up for the evening.

The song wound down and when it ended, Sophie let the next song play. She quickly added a turn into the end of the dance so she would be facing Mike when the dance ended. Smooth one, her inner voice commended in a sarcastic tone. She smiled at Mike, and he returned it. Fantastic , she thought, his smile melting her as it always had. He still had a hold of her hands and showed no signs of letting go.

Sophie took a half step forward and Mike deliberately pulled her closer. Here we go, Sophie thought, not knowing what to expect next.

Lemon , Mike thought. She’s been eating Skittles or Starbursts or something. Definitely something lemon-flavored . He slowly traced her jawline back and forth with the backs of his fingers. She closed her eyes at his touch and when she opened them she couldn’t help but smile. Kiss her, fool , Mike thought, close enough to her that it wouldn’t be obvious. He chickened out at the last minute and pulled away.

“I’ve got to go clean my shit up,” he said quietly, his voice having an embarrassed and distracted tone to it. He ran a hand through his hair and looked at the floor.

“Okay,” Sophie replied in a similar tone. Okay? Okay?? No it’s not! Sophie’s inner voice screamed. She watched him walk back up front, hands in his pockets. She turned the stereo off and shutting her computer down, forgetting she had wanted to get some work done.

7
The club was surprisingly mellow for a Saturday night. Sophie and the guys sat in a large booth in a dim corner where they could blend in but still see everything. Chester had bottomless pitchers of beer at the table and everyone was in a light-hearted mood. Phoenix told stories till everyone laughed so hard they cried.

“Dude, cut it out!” Rob gasped through his laughter.

“But I’m not even to the good part yet,” Phoenix replied, straight-faced. He finished his story to roarous laughter. “Wait a minute,” he said. “I told that wrong. Let me start again.”

“No! Please, no!” Brad quickly replied. “Someone change the subject before he gets going again.”

“Sophie likes country music!” Joe blurted, giving her a devilish smile.

“This true, Sophie? I’m shocked,” Chester said, playfully jabbing at her arm.

“You’re not gonna let that go, are ya?” she said to Joe, who made a face at her.

“Ooh! Tell me! Tell me!” Phoenix said, forgetting all about his story.

“What’s there to tell? Some of it is aight,” Sophie replied matter-of-factly.

“She dances to it, too,” Joe added, giggling.

Chester raised an eyebrow. “Oh really?”

“Yeah, she was teaching me and Mike yesterday,” Joe said, looking at his friend for back up.

The guys looked at Mike, who had been quietly observing the exchange. He shrugged as if it wasn’t as big a deal as Joe was making it seem.

“C’mon, Mike. Spill it!” Brad urged.

“Geez, you guys act like it’s some big deal when you all know it’s not. I’ll be at the bar,” Mike said, leaving the booth.

“What’s up his ass?” Phoenix asked, taking a long sip of beer and looking around the table.

“I think I know,” Brad muttered, getting up to go after Mike.

“I’m confused,” Rob said to no one in particular.

“Sophie, can I talk to you? Over there?” Joe said, nodding to a distant point.

Sophie obliged and followed Joe over to an unoccupied corner. Chester followed. She stood against the wall, looking from Joe to Chester, knowing what they were going to say.

“I don’t know why you’re making such a big deal out of this,” Chester said, getting to the point.

“I’m not making a big deal out of anything,” she answered, not really believing it herself.

“Look, I know you like him and he likes you and I’m completely happy for the two of you. but you guys need to admit it to each other,” Joe said.

Sophie said nothing.

“He won’t hurt you if that’s what you’re afraid of.” Chester added.

“I know,” she replied, barely audible.

“Then what is it?” Brad asked Mike, leaning on the bar, having a similar conversation to Joe, Chester, and Sophie’s.

“I don’t know,” Mike said into his glass.

“You have to know, Mike. This isn’t like you. At all.”

Mike knew his friend was right. “I just don’t know.”

“Are you afraid of breaking up the band?” Brad asked, not knowing what else to say.

“I don’t see what one thing has to do with the other,” Sophie said to Chester, getting frustrated with his interrogation.

“Me either, just trying to find some answers somewhere,” Chester replied, his tone lightly apologetic. “I just wish I knew how to help you.”

Sophie gave him a hint of a smile. She sighed. “I just wish this wasn’t so complicated.”

“How is this complicated?” Brad asked, trying to follow Mike’s train of thought.

“Besides the fact that she works for us? That’s a huge conflict of interest, Brad.”

“Does it have to be?” Joe asked.

Sophie was silent.

“I know what you’re thinking. Just say it.”

“I like her,” Mike finally said.

“I like him,” Sophie said at the same moment.

“Then do something about it,” Joe, Chester, and Brad said in unison at opposite ends of the room.

8
“That’s it! I’ve had it!” Sophie screamed, slamming the phone receiver into its rocker. She sat hard in her chair, causing it to roll back a bit. Margie rushed over, wondering what the catastrophe would be this time. She peeked over one of Sophie’s cork boards.

“What’s up, Soph?” she asked, her voice hesitant.

“Mark, who else? He wants me to scrap all I’ve done and start again. Like hell I will!” Sophie muttered, fuming so bad all she could do was fidget occasionally.

“He’s not in control of this project, Soph. You are,” Margie reminded.

“That’s what pisses me off so much. I feel like I’m stuck in a bad marriage but divorce means losing this project and WebLoser has been waiting for something like this for a long time.” She looked hopeful for a moment. “Can you imagine the credibility this would give us?”

“But you shouldn’t put your sanity up as a sacrifice,” Margie pointed out, knowing how much the business meant to Sophie.

Sophie sighed. “I’m just not seeing a way out if this right now.”

“I think I might know,” Margie said, giving Sophie a knowing look.

“No, I can’t.”

Margie’s look intenisfied.

“You’re mean,” Sophie said as she picked up the phone, giving Marige an amused yet resigned look.

***

Mike stared up at the shadows on his ceiling. Sophie had just called, complaining about Mark – again. He made a mental note to call him when we was feeling more up to it.

He hadn’t slept much all weekend. His conversation with Brad rang in his ears.
I’m being stupid about this, he thought. He sighed. Aight Mike, just stop thinking about this.

He listened a moment to see where his thoughts would go. He looked over at the clock by his bed. 10:30.

Sophie’s at work right now, he thought.

“Dammit!” he said aloud, closing his eyes against the realization that he couldn’t get Sophie out of his mind. He lay like that for some minutes before he decided he was too hungry to lay there any longer.

He found the state of his kitchen to be a disaster. Maybe I should call FEMA, he thought, finding baking soda (that he didn’t remember ever buying) and a various assortment of half empty condiment bottles in the fridge. The cupboards were no better. An empty box of corn flakes, bread and bagels that had gone bad a long time ago, and the few odd dishes he proudly claimed as his own. In the only other drawer that opened easily, besides the one he kept a few stray utensils in, he found a king’s ransom in take-out sauce packets. How in the world can I be in a band as successful as mine and live in such a shitty lil hole like this? he thought, disgusted and disappointed.

Mike wandered into the living room and fell onto the couch. He ran his hands thorugh his hair, streaked blue, growing out and fading. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. Sophie’s face appeared before him and he smiled unconsciously. Why fight it? his inner voice said. You know it’s futile.

He opened his eyes and sighed. He reached for the phone and dialed Mark’s number.

***

Late in the afternoon, Sophie returned to the WebLoser office madder than she had been that morning. She went to the back of the room, opened the door to the alley, and screamed her frustrations into the narrow space.

When she sat down at her desk, Margie scurried over to the coffee machine and brought her a cup – straight black, no cream, no sugar. Sophie nodded her thanks.
“Want to talk?” Margie asked, bringing her desk chair over to Sophie’s desk.

Sophie was silent for a long while. “I’m going home,” she nearly whispered, staring at her blank computer screen.

“Yeah, go home. Take a long, hot bath,” Margie counseled.

“Not that home,” Sophie said, still staring, unconsciously sipping her coffee.

“I’m not following.”

“I’m leaving Los Angeles.

“What?!”

“I’m going to New York. Staying with my parents,” Sophie explained.

“I take it your meeting with Mark wasn’t all sunshine and roses.”

“It was awful,” Sophie replied. “He was mad cuz Mike called him, and told me that all the work I’ve done so far was crap and wasn’t what ‘we’ were looking for.”

“‘We’?” Margie asked, surprised.

“Meaning him and the band, but I know damn well the band is happy with my work.”

“So you’re bailing. You’re gonna let Mark win?”

Sophie quickly scribbled a note on a scrap of paper, folded it in half, and handed it to Margie. “Give this to Joe if he comes in. I think he said he wanted to work late on his mural tonight.” She stood up.

“When are you leaving?” Margie asked.

“Tonight.”

***

Sophie rummaged through her closet for clothes to take with her to New York. She pulled a handful of shirts off their hangers and tossed them on the bed. A few fell to the floor. She ignored them.

I can’t believe Mark, she thought, starting to fold the pile of clothes on the bed. I can’t believe I’m leaving. She stopped folding a pair of jeans and looked at her favorite Linkin Park poster. Her eye went right for Mike. She sighed. I can’t stay here just for him, she justified to herself, resuming packing. She stopped and looked at the poster again. Look at him, she thought, a smile slowly spreading across her face. It quickly disappeared. No good can come of this . She wiped away a stray tear and resumed packing.

***

“What!” Joe exclaimed when Margie gave him the news along with Sophie’s note. He read it quickly and looked at Margie for answers.

“I’m just the messenger,” she said, giving him a sympathetic look.

“Hey guys, what’s goin’ on?” Mike asked, coming over to Margie’s desk. Joe handed Mike the note. His face fell. “Oh no. Where is she now?”

“Left here about three hours ago. If she’s not at her apartment, try LAX,” Margie reported.

Mike headed for the door. Joe ran after him.

“Where are you going?” Joe asked, catching his friend by the arm.

“I need to go find her,” Mike said, reclaiming his seized arm.

“And what are you going to say if you find her?” Joe called as Mike crossed the street to his car.

“I’ll figure that out when I get there!” Mike called back.

***

The post-rush our traffic was thinner than usual, and to Mike’s advantage. He made his way to the airport in record time and rushed inside. He didn’t know Sophie’s flight, but found her relatively quickly. She was sitting in the chairs near her gate, slouched and looked as if she had lost everything. She was staring at her shoes. Why do I feel so guilty? he wondered.

Sophie was trying as best she could to not think. Just hold on about six more hours, she thought. It seemed lightyears away. As she shifted in her chair, she noticed a white pair of Adidas approaching her. Oh no. No, no, no. She looked up when they stopped. “Go away, Mike.”

Mike crouched down in front of her, hesitantly resting his hands on her knees. “Don’t let Mark get to you,” he said, not knowing what else to say. She slowly shook her head. “I told him he was being unreasonable and if he didn’t stop I’d report him to his superiors. Nick was one step ahead of me and had him fired.”
Sophie looked up at him. “Fired?”

“You’re our official design company now,” Mike said, grinning.

Sophie couldn’t belive her ears. “Why are you telling me this? I’m not staying here.”

Mike started to understand. He shifted from his feet to his knees to relieve the stress on his ankles. “You’re leaving because of me, right?”

His words stung. It’s the truth, isn’t it? she thought. Sophie looked away. “I’m leaving because of me. I need to be somewhere familiar. I need to be home.”

A voice over the loudspeaker announced Sophie’s flight was now boarding.

“I have to go,” she said absently, picking up her carry-on and slinging it over her shoulder.

Mike stood up with her. “Please,” he said, his voice breaking a little. “Don’t go.”

She shooke her head. She started toawrd the gate. Mike followed her and stood in her way. “Sophie,” he began.

“Don’t say it,” she said, annoyed that he wouldn’t let her go. She took a deep breath before continuing. “I feel the same way.”

“So stay.” His eyes were pleading. Sophie looked at the floor. “Are you coming back?”

“I don’t know.”

“You know we’re leaving for Europe soon,” he reminded, anything to keep her there. She nodded.

Over the loudspeaker it was announced that this would be the final boarding call for Sophie’s flight.

“I have to go,” she nearly whispered. She turned to leave but Mike’s hand stopped her. What now? she thought, exasperated, wishing this was over. He turned her so she was facing him. Mike ran the backs of his fingers along her jawline like he had a day or so earlier. Sophie closed her eyes at their touch. Don’t do this, Mike, she mentally pleaded.

It’s now or never, Buddy, Mike thought moments before he kissed her. His lips lingered briefly on hers before she pulled away. Was this a mistake? he wondered when he saw the expression on her face. She must want to stay. I can’t understand this. I want her to, he thought. He waited for her reaction.

Sophie’s eyes misted over again and she blinked back her tears. I don’t want to leave, she thought. I want to be with Mike . She re-adjusted her carry-on. “I have to go,” she said, turning and boarding the plane.

Mike watched her plane take off and slowly made his way back to the WebLoser office. He went directly to the back where Sophie’s desk was and sat in her chair. Joe heard him come in and watched his friend sink slowly into the chair. “She’s gone,” Mike answered the question Joe didn’t want to ask.

“Sorry, dude,” Joe said, sitting on the corner of the desk. As they sat in silence, Joe looked at Sophie’s cork board and noticed the picture of she and Mike, taken only a few weeks earlier, was gone. It wasn’t anywhere that Joe could immediately see.

On the plane, Sophie opened a pouch on her carry-on and took out the picture she took from her cork board. She smiled despite her tears. I’ll be back soon, Mike, she mentally promised. You’ll see.

~ FIN ~