January 3rd, 2002

The morning was bleak and boring as Randy flipped his eggs in the pan. But, things were about to get not boring very quickly.

Today's idea was to wear a lavender leotard and light blue wrap skirt and do light practice in his room to maintain his muscles for ballet in spite of not having a coach at the moment. He was already irritated, because he didn't have coach and he couldn't progress, only not lose what he'd learned.

He also was going to choose to wear his practice clothes and a hoodie all day to remind everyone of the fact that he was unhappy. It was a good way to do it without seeming like a brat, which he'd been accused of before in the past and he thought it was just everyone else's way of shoving his problems under a carpet.

His eggs finished and he scooped them onto some toast. He put his sandwich together and then went to the dining table. Princess followed him and he was careful not to step on her or trip on her. He took a moment to measure his blood sugar and it was low as was typical in the morning. He started to eat and he was glad he did.

Five minutes later, it was chaos.

"We're not going all over France for your press tour! That means you're not leaving France! That means we're not going to L.A! What about school, mom?! What about my friends?!"

Randy was trying to ignore it. Trying to finish his sandwich.

"You are to go with Nancy to buy your essentials to bring on my press tour. You are to not talk back and be a brat."

There was that word. His mom really wasn't in the mood for any arguments.

"I'm not going! Leave me here! I'll go back to L.A myself, I'm seventeen-!"

"You will not go back to L.A! I'll take your passport!"

Randy's eyes narrowed as he chewed.

"Why not?! Why can't I go back to L.A?! I want-!"

"Because your dad is talking about us all over the press!"

Sam's finger went up. He pointed at Randy and then at the door. Randy didn't have to be told twice.

The cold, post Christmas and New Year's air felt like it was nothing special. Randy and Sam entered the grocery store and Randy was resigned to his fate. It really felt like nothing new to him. At least Yuna could travel with them. He'd learned from Sam that Yuna was involved with the recruitment of dancers and her role was pretty important. She wasn't a stranger to helping out. She ran her own business teaching people violin, so she had a good command of how to run a business and how to find people. These were skills that she brought from her line of work. She'd been a big help in the past.

Press tours were routine, too. His mom went on them all the time. At least four times per year. They were important so that she could stay relevant. Just because the family was famous in France didn't mean they couldn't become out of touch. He'd been explained this before. Now her new album was coming out just before the summer time, so she was going to start hyping it up. Starting the process of being relevant for the new year.

Mostly, Randy was simmering and trying not to let Sam see it, though he was sure Sam knew it already. He knew him too well.

Randy was now looking critically at lip gloss and really it was like a smack to the face for France, buying American brand makeup at a grocery store. The best makeup in the world was French makeup and he was so resentful that he kind of enjoyed this. Still, all the American makeup had French names. That told you even more that this was a face smack.

"L'Oreal Paris. My favorite. Red? Yes, okay. Get in my basket."

"Put that back. Your mom says you're not old enough to wear red yet."

"I'm fourteen now. That's plenty old enough."

"Your mom says red is for people over forty. My wife says that, too."

"I'll become goth, then. Goth people wear red all the time. I'll read Anne Rice and wear cloaks and-"

"I'll make fun of you so bad that you'll wish you were never born. You're fourteen. There's nothing goth about you." Sam was chuckling at him.

"Red is my protest color." He put it in his basket.

"Well, okay. Don't come crying to me when your mom declares war."

Randy shrugged and went down the line of lipsticks now. He plucked out a deep cranberry red as well. He knew fully that these red colors didn't fit into his aesthetic. Especially when he was doing ballet. Pink was the official color of ballet for a reason. It was soft, young, and feminine, the ideal for the princess in a ballet. Sam was kind of right. Red was too mature for his look. But he'd wear it to piss off his mom.

He already had a bunch of unnecessary things in his basket. He'd practically cleaned out the toy aisle for Pokemon cards. They were in French, but he didn't mind that. They were a money waster and he knew his mom liked to be responsible with money. He also had a new doll and had loaded it with coloring books to take on the road. He often listening to music and colored things in sort of like meditation, especially when Maya was going nuts on the bus.

Sam also had a basket in his hand. He'd grabbed some more dog toys for their distractable puppy and some tough chews for her as well. The name of the game on the bus was to keep her occupied so she didn't try to get into things. Also to tire her out. She could spend as much time as possible sleeping, as far as he was concerned. He remembered when Darla was a young puppy. He was therefore well prepared now.

Randy grabbed a new hairbrush and put it in his basket. Batteries went in there, too. So many of them. He'd have to constantly have his CD player on in order to drown out Maya, he was sure. He thought better of it, and grabbed some more crayons, too. If Maya was this upset now, she'd be even more upset on the road. Crayons were going to wear down fast.

He got to the book aisle and sighed. They were all in French, and he really thought them not being in his native language defeated the purpose of relaxing with a book.

"We'll go to Shakespeare and co., no worries," Sam said. "I forgot they'd be in French. That makes sense. I was kind of looking forward to getting some new books for the bus, too."

"Okay."

Sam knew this was a sigh that Randy was checking out mentally from this. He really didn't know what to do to make the situation better.

Over the past few days, things had devolved majorly. Communications had broken down, because it was obvious that Michael was just ramping up. There was no way they could go back to L.A.

"We'll homeschool Maya or she can take the GED equivalency exam," Anais had sighed. "It's her last half school year. I feel so bad, robbing her of that. I can't deal with this..."

Sam was more concerned with Randy's education rather than Maya's high school dreams. Randy didn't have a ballet coach at the moment. What he actually needed was Reiha, but there was no way she'd agree to come to France for the long term. She was the director of her company. Who knew when she'd be back? If she'd be back... If any of them would be back...

They went up to the front to check out. Sam had grabbed some essentials for he and his wife, too. He hadn't even told his wife they were about to be on a bus for an extended amount of time... But, he knew they'd also be in hotels. Every stop would have a hotel. It was just like any tour. They'd be able to go out and grab some things if they needed to. They could take Nancy with them, and she'd translate.

Speaking of Nancy, he was sure she was having a time. This machine was going to move without them if they didn't do their jobs. So, no doubt she was out with Maya right now, who was ranting and ranting.

Sam didn't even mind that Randy had mostly loaded his basket with things he didn't need. He was glad to see that at least he'd grabbed some batteries and he knew those coloring books were useful to distract him. He decided he'd go out later tonight and grab some more of them for him, for the variety. These would be essential in the coming days to calm him down.

Speaking of distractions, though, he was thinking of Yuna suddenly. She had two kids with her, and her son would have to attend school also. What was she going to do? And he felt awful for her older daughter. Her older daughter was going to have to endure Maya for the duration, as well as deal with all of this.

Randy picked up a bridal magazine at the checkout and laid it on the counter. He also plucked up some chocolates. They weren't going to be nearly enough. Sam was making a mental checklist of things he'd need to get later. He picked up another magazine for Randy to read. It seemed to be about teenage stuff.

"No, I don't want it. I don't want to know what's cool in France," Randy huffed.

"Well, okay." Sam put it down. "You need more than that, though. What do you think?"

Randy sighed and picked up a cooking magazine. Sam thought it looked pretty interesting, for the pictures alone. He picked up a copy of French Vogue for his wife, too.

They bagged up their purchases. He noticed that Randy hadn't bought nearly enough food, either. He was realizing that this trip had been a start, not the whole thing. He'd have to go on a major shopping trip tonight with his wife. Maybe that was good, because his wife might think of things that he didn't. In fact, it was a guarantee.

They'd gone to the apartment and dropped off the first round of their things. Now they were in Shakespeare and co., looking at books. These were all used books in English. Therefore, they had a very large variety. A lot of stuff was out of print and you just couldn't find it anymore. They had some very distracting things that Randy liked and he was kind of having a ball with it. Sam was so relieved.

"They have those cowboy books you liked when you were a kid. Well, I'll be," Sam said, looking at all of them in Randy's hands.

"There's so many I've never seen before. I can't believe it."

"Check the dates. I bet a lot of them have been out of print for a while. I bet that's why you've never seen them."

"No, this is good. All these familiar characters. That's exactly what I needed, I think. Comfort. Nothing's more comforting than this."

"I love that each one is about four hundred pages, too. You needed that, too."

"I agree. I feel a little better now, but I can't stop thinking about, well, you know. Not having a coach. I know I've been a brat about that, but-"

"Nah, you're not being a brat about it. It's part of your education. I've been thinking about that, too."

Sam took the pile of books in Randy's hands and put it with his own on the counter. They were making a collection there, having told the English speaking clerk what they were doing. He was only too happy to comply.

"You have? That's a relief."

"Yes. Absolutely. I've been trying to figure out a way for Reiha to be here. I know she'd do it in the summer. She always plans for that. But I don't know what to do until then."

"Well, since we're going to be on the road I can't do ballet anyway..."

Sam felt terrible about this. He knew Anais felt terrible about it, too. But, her hands were tied. There was no way they could go back to L.A. They'd discussed the tabloid stories they'd seen. Even the kids were involved in those stories. The papers were having a field day, saying horrible things. And not only that, it was on TV, too... There'd be no escape for the kids. And if Maya did go back to school? She'd be in for a nightmare that there was no way to prepare for.

Sam realized he'd stopped speaking. Randy wandered away, looking for more things. Sam decided to look for some paperbacks for his wife.

After Shakespeare and co., they found themselves in a video store. It sold movies as well, new and used. Once again, the variety was unmatched and Randy was completely distracted by the large amount of anime DVD's for sale. He was going through them one by one, reading the backs carefully. No doubt they'd have a new collection by the end. Sam was prepared to watch a lot of it.

They went to the action movies section next and Sam saw a lot of them were from Hollywood and therefore in English. He realized this was a big mistake in about two seconds.

Randy let out the biggest sigh on the planet. Sam put his hand on his shoulder and squeezed, keeping it there. All around them, Michael's face in various serious expressions were like a house of funhouse mirrors without an ounce of fun.

"And that's why we're here," Randy said. Sam nodded, taking him out of the section. Sam hadn't been paying attention, so intent on buying movies for the bus. Sam loved action movies, but none of the ones Michael was in. His dislike for Michael spanned most of his career, after all.

"Let's go look at comedies," Sam said under his breath.

"But I don't feel much like laughing."

"We'll force ourselves to."

Randy didn't say anything to that. Just quietly accepting it, it seemed like.