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“You considering doing masked content?” Sion asked as he led me out of the conference room.
“I’m thinking about it,” I admitted.
“Biker helmet would be a unique look,” he suggested. “Then all you need is a good camera, some lighting, and a laptop that can do edits. A grand or two would set you up with high-quality content.”
“Yeah,” I agreed, nodding. Except, in my mind, it was a couple hundred thousand. Because if I really wanted to do this, I couldn’t be filming content at the clubhouse.
“You were always one of the best,” Sion went on. “If you still have an interest, you owe it to yourself to do it while you’re young and still can. Though, man,” he said, exhaling hard and looking down at me. “I think you might need to start lifting heavier. You’re looking a little thin.”
“Sion, got a minute?” someone called, making Sion give him a nod.
“Go on. I’ll be in touch when I make a decision,” I said. “Thanks for thinking of me, man.”
“Hit me up, either way. We can go to the gym or something. Take a ride in that Lambo when it comes in.”
With that, he moved away, and I made my way back outside.
I was about to turn toward my bike when a movement at the corner of my eye caught my attention, making me turn to find the blonde with the glasses, Siana, pacing back and forth on the other side of the entrance of the hotel. Short little five-foot bursts in each direction. While her thumb kept spinning her fidget ring on her finger.
I almost went over, asked if she was alright.
But then a car pulled up, and she reached for her phone, checking, I assume, the ride-share app, then the car, the license plate, and finally the driver, before sliding in.
Anxious, that was the best way I could describe her.
Definitely didn’t seem like an adult content creator sort. But, I guess, neither did an arms-dealing biker. And by the time I got my ass back to the clubhouse, I’d pretty much made up my mind.
To try it.
To see if it helped fill in those pieces that felt missing lately.
“Eh, eh, eh, don’t you be putting that garbage on my enchiladas,” Eddie grumbled at Levee, rushing over to snatch what he deemed as inferior hot sauce out of Levee’s hand.
Levee was Eddie’s biggest fan.
But he also liked to top his food with shit that made Eddie clutch his chest.
Ketchup on grilled cheese.
Honey mustard on fries.
“Oh, hey, man, there’s some greens cut up in the fridge,” Eddie said as he tossed the entire bottle of hot sauce into the trash.
“Save it for the tortoise,” I said, grabbing a plate.
I could feel all the eyes on me as I scooped enchiladas covered in the green sauce onto my plate.
Admittedly these days, I didn’t usually eat a lot of Eddie’s concoctions. He was a man who loved cheese, oils, butter, and red meat. I was someone who’d been keeping a close eye on my diet.
But I had Sion’s words in my head.
About needing to bulk up.
Maybe he’d been right.
Maybe I’d been cutting too much.
Was I going to regret having Eddie’s enchiladas as my first meal that wasn’t a load of greens and plain chicken? Probably. But, fuck, was the first bite worth any heartburn I was going to be dealing with later.
