Monumental.”
“Monumental.” I laughed. “Since when do you use big words? Have you been reading the dictionary again?” Brian didn’t reply, just glared at me while the others broke out in loud guffaws. “Cause if you are, I demand you hand over your man card.”
Rolling his eyes, he straightened his tie. “Don’t hate my eloquence.”
“Eloquence my ass.” Mimicking his actions, I pulled the bowtie out and popped open the top two buttons of my dress shirt. I would never try to be something I was not.
“Barbarian.” He was trying so hard to keep a serious face; too bad for him we all saw the way his mustache twitched. “Fuck you. Is that better?” Nodding in unison, we pissed him off. Or at the very least, he tried to appear that way. “It’s like dealing with prepubescent assholes.” We shrugged. “I’m trying to be the nice and supportive manager you pay me to be, yet this is the shit I get?”
“Your pussy is showing,” I stated, and the other three hummed in agreement.
“That was a bit much, wasn’t it?’ Brian cracked a smile, that second twitch causing us all to laugh again. “Get the fuck in there and behave. Especially you, Rick.”
“What did I do?” The man had the balls to sound offended.
“Are you serious right now?” An exasperated sigh left Brian. “Jesus,” he exclaimed and raised his hands up toward the heavens. “Don’t fucking ask the female reporters to give you a quick flash of their boobs or to go back to your room. No.”
“Boobs? What are we, twelve?” Cris chuckled.
“I give up.” Brian sighed while shaking his head. “Just go, and don’t make me look bad.” For all the bullshit he was spewing, the man was used to our antics—was far worse than we were on most days. This was the second time in our ten-year relationship where he’d tried to keep us in line.
Tried being the operative word.
In our line of work, you couldn’t take yourself too serious. That’s when egos clash and what was a beautiful working relationship could go sour and fast.
The dull sound of reporters talking grew quiet the moment we entered. A few flashes went off as we took our seats behind a long table, microphones set up in front of each chair and a bottle of water beside that.
“You guys ready to begin?” Margo, an older woman wearing the event productions lanyard, asked.
“As we’ll ever be.”
At my grumpy reply, she giggled. “Not a fan of these things?”
“No.” Came from the four of us.
“Wrong business to be a part of…don’t you think?” Those words would’ve pissed off any other group or solo artist. Not us. She actually seemed shocked by what she’d said and tried to backtrack. “I’m so sorry. Please, I meant—”
“Relax.” Tex winked, and she loss the stiff posture. “We’re not offended by a simple truth.”
“Thank you.” Gracious smile. “And by the way, I’m a huge fan.” With that, she turned around and faced the members of the media who’d been busy watching the exchange with curiosity. “Ladies and gentlemen of the press, I present to you tonight’s biggest winners….Deep. They’ve won both song and album of the year.”
And then all hell broke loose.
Like a pack of wild animals, they barked over each other. Questions were shouted. People were pushed out of the way. They were relentless.
“Who was the striking brunette you were seen fighting with a few nights ago, Chester?”
“Where’s your ever-faithful girlfriend? Does Ashley know about this other woman?”
“The both of you seemed passionate as you argued. Didn’t look like an innocent meeting between fan and singer. Was she demanding you leave your girlfriend of two years?”
“Who are you taking home tonight? Ashley or the mystery brunette?”
All these questions and more came flying at us from various reporters and I had no clue who said what. Holy fuck?
“Enough.” Tex slammed his hand atop the table, knocking down his bottle of water and
“Monumental.” I laughed. “Since when do you use big words? Have you been reading the dictionary again?” Brian didn’t reply, just glared at me while the others broke out in loud guffaws. “Cause if you are, I demand you hand over your man card.”
Rolling his eyes, he straightened his tie. “Don’t hate my eloquence.”
“Eloquence my ass.” Mimicking his actions, I pulled the bowtie out and popped open the top two buttons of my dress shirt. I would never try to be something I was not.
“Barbarian.” He was trying so hard to keep a serious face; too bad for him we all saw the way his mustache twitched. “Fuck you. Is that better?” Nodding in unison, we pissed him off. Or at the very least, he tried to appear that way. “It’s like dealing with prepubescent assholes.” We shrugged. “I’m trying to be the nice and supportive manager you pay me to be, yet this is the shit I get?”
“Your pussy is showing,” I stated, and the other three hummed in agreement.
“That was a bit much, wasn’t it?’ Brian cracked a smile, that second twitch causing us all to laugh again. “Get the fuck in there and behave. Especially you, Rick.”
“What did I do?” The man had the balls to sound offended.
“Are you serious right now?” An exasperated sigh left Brian. “Jesus,” he exclaimed and raised his hands up toward the heavens. “Don’t fucking ask the female reporters to give you a quick flash of their boobs or to go back to your room. No.”
“Boobs? What are we, twelve?” Cris chuckled.
“I give up.” Brian sighed while shaking his head. “Just go, and don’t make me look bad.” For all the bullshit he was spewing, the man was used to our antics—was far worse than we were on most days. This was the second time in our ten-year relationship where he’d tried to keep us in line.
Tried being the operative word.
In our line of work, you couldn’t take yourself too serious. That’s when egos clash and what was a beautiful working relationship could go sour and fast.
The dull sound of reporters talking grew quiet the moment we entered. A few flashes went off as we took our seats behind a long table, microphones set up in front of each chair and a bottle of water beside that.
“You guys ready to begin?” Margo, an older woman wearing the event productions lanyard, asked.
“As we’ll ever be.”
At my grumpy reply, she giggled. “Not a fan of these things?”
“No.” Came from the four of us.
“Wrong business to be a part of…don’t you think?” Those words would’ve pissed off any other group or solo artist. Not us. She actually seemed shocked by what she’d said and tried to backtrack. “I’m so sorry. Please, I meant—”
“Relax.” Tex winked, and she loss the stiff posture. “We’re not offended by a simple truth.”
“Thank you.” Gracious smile. “And by the way, I’m a huge fan.” With that, she turned around and faced the members of the media who’d been busy watching the exchange with curiosity. “Ladies and gentlemen of the press, I present to you tonight’s biggest winners….Deep. They’ve won both song and album of the year.”
And then all hell broke loose.
Like a pack of wild animals, they barked over each other. Questions were shouted. People were pushed out of the way. They were relentless.
“Who was the striking brunette you were seen fighting with a few nights ago, Chester?”
“Where’s your ever-faithful girlfriend? Does Ashley know about this other woman?”
“The both of you seemed passionate as you argued. Didn’t look like an innocent meeting between fan and singer. Was she demanding you leave your girlfriend of two years?”
“Who are you taking home tonight? Ashley or the mystery brunette?”
All these questions and more came flying at us from various reporters and I had no clue who said what. Holy fuck?
“Enough.” Tex slammed his hand atop the table, knocking down his bottle of water and
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