Chapter 3

As much as I would have liked for Tony to forget my gluttonous ways, he had ordered take-out every night for the entire duration of our break. He barely ever ate anything and he always went, “Oh, Bobby, you still look hungry” or, “How about some more?” He must have noticed what it had been doing to me.

I outgrew my 36’s. That was after Chinese food and Aladdin. He’s not mean and he doesn’t poke fun at me about my weight like the rest of the guys in the band. They poke me in the belly and pinch the now large roll of flesh that hangs around the top of my pants.

Tony tells them to leave me alone and offers me some more food, which I can never say no to. He went with me to buy some new pants. He put on a wig, sunglasses, and drew in much thicker eyebrows. It was pretty adorable. Tony was adorable. He was sweet to me and I loved it.

He picked out jeans that would definitely be too big. I didn’t question it, but 40’s were a lot bigger than I was hoping I’d ever need. He wouldn’t let me pay for the stuff either. He always does that, and it’s nice, but I feel bad for letting him do that.

“It’s my money.” He said. “I’ll spend it on whoever I want to.” He handed the saleswoman his credit card. I blushed, I’m just a charity case and it made me feel worthless. I can’t sing, or play an instrument. I’m not a member of Trigger. I’m a nobody.

My parent’s were right; I had nothing to fall back on when Trigger was to eventually move on. I knew they would have to someday. I mean, they’d eventually get SO big my poor managerial skills will be noticed and I’ll get replaced.

“Thanks Tony.” I said lowly. He tilted his sunglasses down so I could see his eyes. “But I…I still don’t think you should keep buying stuff for me…”

“I wouldn’t feel the need to always pay for everything if you took the increased salary I keep offering.” He does keep offering pay increases. I told him I don’t deserve them. I don’t pay rent, or traveling fees. I don’t pay for anything. All my money goes into my savings so that’s why I hate when he pays for my stuff.

“Tony Ruff!!!” Yelled a teenage girl staring at Tony. “Oh My God!!!” I think it was the eyes. He never should have taken off the sunglasses. She and every other person in the whole department store rushed over to the register. He headed for the door quickly.

“Can you finish up here?” He asked in a rush. I nodded and he was gone. I grabbed his credit card and the bag with my six new pairs of pants in it. I waited for the crowd to disperse and made my way back to the apartment.

When I got in he was still in his disguise, watching Pocahontas. He was laying upside down, his head where his feet should be if he were to be sitting properly. He was humming along to Colors of the Wind.

“Are you okay Tony?” I asked. He sighed and sat up properly.

“We start recording tomorrow.” He frowned. “No more cartoons.”

This is part of the cycle. Every year around recording time he gets a little lethargic. He says studios are too small and that recording a song takes too long. I told him they’d be fine and that the songs he had been working on would top the charts. I told him everybody would love him.

“One last movie?” He asked. I agreed and he put on The Little Mermaid and ordered a pizza, which I ended up eating the most of.