I nodded.
“…many pieces do they have in stock? Anything smaller?” The pink lady was obviously overwhelmed.
“Not many pieces,” Token Gay said. “They’re apparently quite hard on the system, so he doesn’t paint them often. They’re always massive.”
Alexei nodded. “They’re gorgeous in person.”
“You’ve seen them?”
“I was at the gallery the other day. I was looking for a Barron Danes I could afford.” He gave me a half glance. “I can’t afford a Barron Danes.”
I chuckled. “I don’t think Barron Danes can afford a Barron Danes at this point.”
The television interrupted us again. “…chance to talk with Maddox Jones about his feelings on the painting and the use of his music to inspire it.”
The image flipped and there was a video of Maddox Jones on the screen, standing across from the Token. “Uriah Orback used your music for his painting—”
“Uri is a hell of an artist,” he said, not even letting the guy get the words out. “He’s amazing with paint and a needle and thread. I’m proud to call the man a friend. Him and Austin, and hell—all of UDLR.”
“So, you’re not troubled by his use of your music?”
“Music, Mister Chancer, is supposed to inspire. ThatEventual Evolutioncame out on his canvas looking to me exactly how it sounds in my head is shocking, amazing, and humbling. I’m glad he chose a Robot Servant song.”
“You mentioned all of UDLR… I heard a rumor you’ve had to borrow Taylor Dawkins?”
“For some practice sessions for our new album, yes. He won’t be joining us, but he’s been awesome about helping us since Grig’s departure.”
“Rumor has it you fired him?”
“We did. Homophobes aren’t welcome in our band.”
“Homophobes…”
“After a bit of research, we found that Grig was incapable of following a now-defunct NDA regarding someone’s sexuality, and we felt it was better we part ways.”
“You have a mini tour coming up.”
“Oh, we are well aware of that, Mister Chancer. Believe me.” The laugh Maddox Jones let out was deep and resonant and hit me right in the libido.
“Damn him for being straight,” I mumbled.
“Right?” Alexei agreed with a shake of his head. “Have you ever met him?”
“No…”
Grinning, Alex pulled out his phone and swiped it open. Tapping on the screen a few times, he turned it so I could see what was on the front.
Him and Maddox and Austin Lowell and Luis Cervantes. I looked at it, back at him, back at it, and swore at him.
“You couldn’t invite me?”
“One off,” he said. “Luis must be one of my biggest fans in the world. The man new more about me than I know about me. Maddox apparently knows the Suffolk King’s manager and they made sure we all met up.”
“That was nice of him…but damn, man.”
“Yeah, I know.” He slipped the phone back in his pocket. “It was cool though. Austin Lowell has a hell of an apartment.”
“Sigh. To be wealthy.”
