[Okay, so they never mentioned NeXT in the movie. They never mentioned Canada, either, but that's no reason to assume it doesn't exist in their universe. Something had to be going on during those 12 years that Steve was away from Apple. The NeXT demo went off more or less as described here, but Bill's appearance during and afterwards is just Jezebel's disco-induced hallucination. I've undoubtedly taken a few liberties with the layout of the symphony hall, so if anybody reading this knows better, just suspend disbelief a little more for that part, 'k? Oh, and Bill really said that "Develop for it?..." line, but presumably under slightly different circumstances. I like my explanation better.]
What Happened NeXT
by
Jezebel Slade
Davies Symphony Hall, San Francisco: October 12, 1988
I know he notices me watching him from the back of the auditorium. He shouldn’t be able to recognize me from up on stage, but he does.
These people think they’re on the front lines of another computer revolution. They want a messiah to show them the way, and Steve Jobs is it. If Steve told them to chug a pitcher of cyanide-laced Kool-Aid, they’d give him a fucking standing ovation just before they dropped dead.
Some revolution. A $10,000 machine that’s incompatible with everything else on the market and uses $50 disks. But it’s sleek and black. It doesn’t matter if it’s good, just so it looks good. Maybe aesthetics really are everything. This NeXTSTEP/IBM deal could be trouble, though. NeXT may never unload their hardware on anybody but a handful of gullible academics, but IBM is still IBM. Their operating systems are mine. Hands off, Steve.
***
Yeah, Bill. I see you out there. Once again you’re standing on the sidelines, looking at the new paradigm. What are you trying to prove by showing up here? It’s just business, I’m sure. Everything always is with you.
Take a good look. It’s the closest you’ve been to greatness in three years. And it’s as close as you’ll ever get to it again.
***
The presentation ends with a violinist playing a duet with the computer. The audience eats it up, of course. Never mind that out of the 2,700 of them, at least 2,699 are never going to have any use for a program that plays flawless classical music. All of them are going to walk out of here convinced they’ve seen the Second Coming. But every flock needs a Judas.
***
Just walk away, Bill. You’re out of your league. As soon as NeXTSTEP gets off the ground, you won’t even be in the game anymore. When people can write their own applications in less time than it takes them to drive to Businessland and buy yours, you’ll wish you’d lived a better life.
***
The audience starts to flow toward the exits. Bill mingles in the crowd, but keeps toward the edges as they move into the lobby. He sees what he’s looking for: a door marked "Authorized Personnel Only." He tries the knob, finds it unlocked, and blithely walks through.
"Are you with the program?" A Symphony Hall employee eyes Bill for an identifying badge.
"Yeah," Bill says, attempting to pass the young man.
The employee steps in front of him. "I’m sorry, sir. I can’t let you back here without a badge unless I confirm with your supervisor – "
"Do you know who I am?"
"Sir – "
"Do you want to have a job tomorrow?" Bill glares at the man, then steps around him and continues down the hall.
The young man watches him go, then talks into his walkie-talkie.
***
Bill follows the sound of voices until he finds the green room. Steve is standing by the demo setup, talking with one of his lackeys. Bill watches him and waits.
"Excuse me, sir."
Bill turns around to see two security guards. They are tastefully-dressed, non-thuggish security guards, but very obviously security guards nonetheless, and not too pleased with him.
The larger of the two lays a hand on Bill’s upper arm. "You’re going to have to come with us."
Bill jerks his arm away. "Do you mind?"
The two of them step closer two him. "You aren’t allowed back here. We’re going to have to escort you out."
Bill backs up and finds the doorframe in his way. "I’m Bill Gates. From Microsoft. Now fuck off. Please."
The smaller guard looks even more annoyed. "Sir, I don’t care who you are. If you don’t have clearance, you don’t belong here. If you’re going to insist on making a scene –"
"Is there a problem here, gentlemen?"
All three of them turn their heads to see Steve Jobs watching the scene, a vague flicker of amusement in his eyes.
"Mr….?" The larger guard looks at Bill.
"Gates," Bill prompts him, rolling his eyes.
"…was just leaving," the guard finishes.
Steve smiles. "It’s okay. He can stay."
The guards glower at Bill, but nod to Steve. "Yes, Mr. Jobs." They beat a hasty retreat.
Steve sends his assistant off to make sure everything is set up for the press conference. Bill walks into the room, closing the door behind him. "Hi, Steve," he smiles.
"Bill." Steve turns around and leans against the computer table, folding his arms.
"Things haven’t been the same around Apple since you left." Bill walks over to stand next to Steve.
Steve quirks an eyebrow at Bill. "They weren’t the same before I left, either."
"Their loss."
"Yeah."
"There’s nobody there who’s as much fun as you were."
"Then I guess you’ll have to steal your ideas the old-fashioned way from now on."
"You mean like you always did?"
"You want a history lesson? Later. I have work to do."
"To convince the world it needs this thing? Yeah."
Steve gestures toward the Cube. "The shape of things to come. Take a good look. You might learn something."
"Like how to blow a million dollars of somebody else’s money on a machine the average consumer has no use for?"
"This isn’t for average consumers. It’s for people who want to change the world."
"Steve… people don’t want to change the world. They just want to do their work, and maybe play video games."
"Keep thinking that way."
"It sells."
Steve shakes his head, as if to rest his case. "Sell it somewhere else, Bill."
Bill looks down at the computer. "So who’s developing for it?"
"Everybody who’s anybody is begging us for the privilege."
"Not everybody."
"You don’t know what you’re missing out on."
"Yeah, I think I do." Bill’s smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes.
Steve laughs. "This isn’t about you and me. This is bigger than that. This is evolution."
Bill takes a step closer to Steve, and reaches for the Cube’s keyboard. "Show me."
Steve catches Bill’s hands. "Wait for the release."
"What’s the matter? Afraid it’ll crash?" Bill licks his lips and smiles. "Or afraid you will?" He intertwines his fingers with Steve’s.
Steve stares into Bill’s blue-gray eyes. "Why are you here?"
Bill grins. "Why do you think?"
Steve sighs, extricating his hands from Bill’s grasp. "As entertaining as it always is to see you, I have better things to do."
"Steve." Bill does his best to sound hurt. "I drove all this way, and I sat through that little smoke-and-mirrors exercise of yours. The least you can do is give me five minutes of your time."
Steve narrows his eyes, smirking in spite of himself. "Only five?"
Bill takes a step closer to him. "It’ll do for now."
Steve reaches out and runs his fingers over Bill’s cheek, then slides his hand around to rest on the back of Bill’s head. "What makes you think there’s a later for you and me?"
Bill grins. "Because there always is." He leans in to kiss Steve.
Steve stops him, fingers clutching in Bill’s hair. "Things change."
Bill looks up at him, eyes twinkling impishly behind his glasses. "Not everything."
This time Steve lets Bill kiss him. Bill’s mouth is hot and hungry on his. Bill’s arms wrap around him, holding him close, and he can feel Bill’s cock stiffening against his hip. Without breaking their kiss, Steve reaches over and shoves the NeXT Cube and its accoutrements to the end of the demo table. He nudges Bill up against the table’s edge and Bill takes the hint, sitting down on it. Steve stands between his legs, running his hands up Bill’s khaki-covered thighs to caress the bulge in the crotch of his Dockers. Bill reaches for the fly on Steve’s jeans, but Steve grabs his wrists, pinning Bill’s arms behind his back with one hand and undoing Bill’s zipper with the other. Steve isn’t much stronger than Bill; Bill could free his hands fairly easily if he wanted to, but he doesn’t want to.
Steve’s mouth leaves Bill’s and kisses his chin, his throat, the side of his neck. His tongue traces the curve of Bill’s earlobe as his hand finds its way into Bill’s briefs. "Miss me?" he whispers.
"Yes," Bill gasps as Steve lightly strokes his sensitive skin.
"Good." Steve brings his fingers to Bill’s mouth and lets Bill suck on them.
"Did you miss me?" Bill asks, leaning forward to nibble on Steve’s lips as Steve returns his slickened hand to Bill’s cock.
"Maybe a little." Steve strokes harder, making Bill’s breathing quicken. "Guess what?"
"What?" Bill moves his hips, trying to get into the rhythm of Steve’s caress.
"We’re going to get to miss each other some more." Steve gives Bill a fast, hard kiss on the lips, then lets go of him and steps backward.
"What?" Bill just stares at him.
Steve grins winningly. "Your five minutes are up. I have a press conference to go to."
Bill blinks, his mouth opening in surprised confusion. "Hey — you can’t just — get back here!"
Steve positively glimmers with mirth as he walks to the door, pausing to pick up a black notebook binder from the couch. "Nice seeing you again, Bill." He starts to turn the doorknob, the binder held strategically over his own erection. "Zip up your pants. If somebody comes in and catches you, you’ll get arrested for indecent exposure, and I won’t be here to stop them." Still smiling, Steve walks out, leaving the door open.
Jaw clenched against an inarticulate yell of rage, Bill slams his hand down on the tabletop. He accidentally hits the corner of the Cube’s keyboard and clutches his aching fingers. "Fuck!" He jumps up from the table and stands there seething until he hears voices in the hallway, then takes Steve’s advice and fastens his zipper.
He waits until the voices have receded down the hall, and then follows them. As he makes his way back into the lobby, a perky young InfoWorld correspondent notices him. "Mr. Gates!" She sticks her pocket tape recorder in front of his face. "Will Microsoft be developing for the NeXT Cube?"
Bill snarls, "Develop for it? I’ll piss on it!" and pushes his way past her, shoving through the crowd to stand at the far edge.
***
Even the reporters are kissing his ass. He’s got snappy answers to all of their questions, and they love it. Saint Steve, Silicon Valley’s Golden Boy. They’d see the tarnish on his halo if they took the time to look, but they won’t. They want the dream, and he’s handing it to them on a plastic tray. Lick it up, suckers. We’ll see how many of you want Steve’s brave new world when it’s coming out of your own checkbooks. And I’ll be there laughing when he crashes and burns.
***
You want to play this game again, Bill? Come on. I’m more than up to the challenge. This isn’t just you and me or Apple and Microsoft. This is about changing the world. Again. And that’s where I’ll always win.
-the end, for now…-
Editor’s note: Once upon a time, there was going to be a sequel to this called “NeXT Big Thing”. Sadly, it never materialized. However, we may not have seen the last of Bill and Steve…
Tags: bill/steve, infamy
