Page 71 of Ravaged By Lust

“This is my lucky day,” the greasy-haired vulture says when I open the passenger door for Chloe, trying to ignore the man with all my willpower. “I sit outside this place all freaking day hoping to get some Z-list celebrity to snap and instead a member of Ravaged turns up. With a girl, no less.”

As I take Chloe’s hand to help her out, I finally give in. I face the so-called journalist and roll my eyes. “Get lost, Harold.”

He snorts derisively, like a pig. “Never, Mister Bishop Hayes. Photos of Ravaged sell, and I’ve got to make a buck.”

I guide Chloe with my hand around the front of the vehicle towards the entrance of the restaurant. Harold doesn’t budge to let us pass him, the asshole.

“Haven’t you made enough bucks from being such a creep?” I ask him as I brush past.

He chuckles. “Oh, you’re such a tough guy. You think you’re so cool, Bishop?”

“What you’re doing is not honest work,” I reply as I hand my keys to the valet. “It’s gutter journalism.”

“Whatever you say,” Harold sneers back before he raises his goddamn camera and starts flashing in my face. “It sure pays the bills. I’ll do anything for the perfect snap.”

If I weren’t so civilized, I would be exchanging more than words with this rat.

But then people on the street start to recognize me. Someone calls my name, and soon we’re surrounded by people wanting a selfie with me.

“See,” I say to Harold as his camera view is blocked by passersbys. “These are the people I actually want to take photos with. Fans.”

Harold grumbles and slumps away. His photos of me were probably blurred and unusable. Good.

I take my time and pose for photos with the fans. People are really sweet. I chat back to them, asking them what Ravaged songs they like the most. Meeting fans like this, even at an inconvenient time, is the reason I truly love this job. This is what matters. The music and the fans. Not the shit side of fame and gutter journalists.

I spot Chloe behind the crowd. She’s standing there, watching me, with a smirk on her face.

I grin back.

She’s getting to see what my life is like up close.

But more and more people join. I don’t have the chance to see everyone unless I’m out here all night.

Restaurant security arrives and manages to sneak Chloe and me inside.

“Lucky we had you boys,” I tell them. “Otherwise I would’ve been stuck out there.”

“I bet you really enjoyed being the center of attention,” Chloe whispers to me, nudging me in the ribs.

“Hey, I didn’t become a sexy rockstar for nothing,” I tell her.

The maître-D immediately recognizes me.

“Ah, hello, Mr. Hayes.”

“Evening. Sorry, I haven’t booked a table. Last minute thing, you know.”

“I’m sure we can arrange something for you,” he says.

Chloe lifts her head over his shoulder. “The place looks really busy, though,” she remarks.

“Fully booked out, ma’am, but we’ll find a table for such a star.”

We’re whisked off to a table in no time. I make sure to tip the maître-D on the way.

“You must really like being called a star,” Chloe says to me as we sit.

“I’m actually very annoyed you don’t call me one,” I tell her.