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“Pres, it’s a fucking nightmare. I thought I was ready for this. Not only are they here together but some spunky kid who fucked her over from Croydon is here too.”
“Man, I wouldn’t want to be in your shoes right now. It’s bad enough your apparent best mate was with your sister behind your back but now you’re expected to hang out with them.” He says, he gets it. He gets my pain here.
“Hmm, yeah,” I agree, wringing my hands.
“They’ll be inviting you round for Sunday dinner next. That’s normal for you Brits right?”
“They did. I’ve made excuses each time. Well, Cassy did, fuck knows if he knew she invited me.”
“Dude, I was joking, but that’s not fucking right. You know they have agreed to a tell-all interview on British TV, don’t you?”
Have they? Oh fuck. I thought they were keeping a low profile, just the odd far away picture on Twitter to keep the fans happy. But then they are good at keeping secrets, so why wouldn’t they?
“No, I didn’t know that. I’ll ask Cassy tonight.”
“And you think she’ll tell you?” Preston pushes, and fuck, I don’t actually know if she would or not. There’s never been a thing me and her couldn’t share. Well, I thought that anyway until she kept her relationship with Finch a secret. I can hear Preston breathing loudly down the phone, taking a sip of something and then sighing.
“Look, man, I know you told me not to talk about it, but you need to think about what I told you last week. The label is still really keen to get you over here to talk about your prospects.”
“I’m a mess, Preston. Me and you both know I have no prospects.”
“That’s not what Bruce Grain thinks. Just think about it. Titch will talk to you tomorrow at the London office, okay?” he assures me. Like I’d forgotten I had to attend that shit.
“Yeah okay, sure. See you, Pres.” I hang up, with a guilty look I look over to my brothers in the room. I’ve never played without them. Do I really want to?
