Page 54 of Not Your Golden Boy

“Call her back,” he said. “Maybe it’s good news.”

Nikky nodded, then tapped his phone a few times and held it to his ear. “Hey, Charlotte,” he said, then veered to the side, where there was a small park and a bench. He paced instead of sitting on the bench, which Harry found adorable. “A party?” he asked aloud, glancing at Harry. “A music industry party, and I’m invited? Tonight?”

Harry grinned, both amused by the way Nikky was letting him in on what was happening and beyond pleased that the industry was welcoming the man in.

“Yeah, sure,” Nikky went on.

Harry wanted to know more about the conversation, which looked like it was going to be more than Charlotte issuing an invite, but his phone rang as well.

Tension hit him so fast that it almost made him sick. He snatched at his phone, but when he looked at the screen, Albion’s name popped up, not “Unlisted”, like it had for Holberg.

“Albion,” Harry answered curtly, pacing slightly away from Nikky, who was smiling away as he talked to his manager.

“Bayonne,” Albion said with as much venom as Harry felt.

“What do you want?” Harry snapped.

“I want you to march your sweet little conquest over to the studio right now and order him to record the songs I want on his album,” Albion said bluntly.

Harry snorted a humorless laugh. “Fuck off,” he snarled. “Nikky knows what he wants, and you’re going to give it to him or⁠—”

“What, like you gave it to him in that nasty little video Stuart Holberg just offered to sell me?”

Harry froze at the edge of the grass on the other side of the bench from where Nikky was still happily on his call. His stomach dropped and he couldn’t breathe.

“That’s right,” Albion said crisply. “I’ve seen the video. Clips of it, at least. I’ve seen enough. It comes with a hefty price tag, but it would absolutely be worth it to have that little tidbit under my control.”

“There’s no point,” Harry snapped, keeping one eye on Nikky. He’d finished his call, but some fans had approached him. They looked harmless enough, so he was talking to them and getting ready to take selfies. “Like I told Holberg, if you release that video, I’ll just claim it’s an AI fake. You’d be wasting your money buying it.”

“Fake or not,” Albion said, more irritated than gloating, “it’ll change things for Nikky. You can pretend it won’t all you want, but you know better. You know how quickly a promising career can go sour in this world.”

Fuck, Albion was right. Moments ago, he’d been willing to ruin his entire life to save Nikky from embarrassment. Was he willing to lead Nikky in the wrong direction with his album if it meant long-term gain?

“It’s heady, isn’t it,” Albion said.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Harry growled, keeping his voice down, even though Nikky was completely distracted with his fans now.

“Having that much power over someone else’s life,” Albion said. “I can assume since the two of you were spotted at that club and from the way you topped the man in the video that you get off on having power over someone. How do you think it will feel knowing that you were responsible for the success of a megastar’s career? Nikky’s future is in your hands.”

“If you think you’re going to win me over by appealing to the kind of dictatorship you use to control the people who rely on you then you’re an even bigger bastard than I thought,” Harry said, seething.

“I don’t really care what gets you off,” Albion went on. “I plan to accept Holberg’s offer for the video, and I intend to use it to get what I want. You’re irrelevant in this whole thing. The only part you can play now is facilitating me getting my way by telling your boy toy what to do. If you don’t, just think of how public exposure of the kind I’m planning would break him.”

For the second time that morning, Harry wanted to reach through his phone to murder someone. He hated the world of celebrity and everything that came with it. Whether it was music or film, the entertainment industry treated talent like commodities instead of people. Albion, Holberg, and probably a dozen other people would chew Nikky up and spit him out without batting an eye.

The only thing Harry could do was hover as close to Nikky as he could to stop things from being worse than they were shaping up to be.

“Keep Nikky out of this as much as possible,” he hissed into his phone. “Hurt me all you want, but don’t destroy him.”

Albion laughed, the sound so cruel it sent prickles down Harry’s spine. “Whether the man is hurt or not is up to you,” he said. “You have my terms. Meet them or the video will be released this weekend.”

The call ended. For a second, Harry thought his phone had died again. But no, Albion had hung up on him, stealing the upper hand without giving Harry a chance to fight back. It was such a dick move.

Even worse, it was proof Albion, and Holberg, had the upper hand. Harry glanced across at Nikky smiling away with his fans. At least they seemed nice.

How quickly would those smiles turn to looks of disgust if the video hit social media?

It was too late to wish they’d never made the video. That ship had sailed. Worse than that was the sickening feeling in the pit of Harry’s stomach that said it was too late to save Nikky from the fickle lusts of the industry that should have embraced and protected him.