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“We’ve talked to the production company. We’ve told them everything you guys are thinking, and they want to work for us. They don’t want it to be some scripted show with made-up bullshit. They literally want to set up cameras and just videotape our lives.”
“You said motorcycle clubs. Are there other clubs doing this?”
Yarder nodded. “There are going to be four clubs. We know for sure the Fallen Lords are one club, and the other clubs are still in talks.”
“You just named a pretty big club,” Cue Ball called. “Those guys are well known.”
Yarder nodded. “They are, and they’re doing the show, too. We’ll be Tread: Iron Fiends, they’ll be Tread: Fallen Lords and the same name format would be for the other two clubs.”
“Holy fuck,” Dice sighed. “This is some crazy shit, man. I walked in here ready for you to go over the cars for next week and maybe give Aero some shit about Sloane, not tell us we are about to be on a fucking reality show.”
The mood of the room lifted, and we all talked at once.
This was crazy.
Out of this world.
Everyone had, of course, watched some kind of reality TV at some point in their life, but how many people thought that they would actually beonone of those shows?
I sure as shitneverthought that would be me or that the club would be on TV.
“Shut up!” Yarder called.
Everyone quieted down, and I say back in my chair.
Yarder looked around the table. “Now that everything is out on the table, what are we thinking?”
“I still think it’s bullshit that the two of you did this behind our backs.” Throttle threw his hand up in the air. “What else are you two hiding from us?”
“Nothing,” Yarder answered.
“Why the hell were you so pissed about Sloane?” I asked. “What the hell does she have to do with the show?”
“Yeah, if anything, they’ll bring some of that spice to the show that Sloane has in the books she reads.” Dice pointed at me. “I bet you two will be the first to get some body parts blurred out.”
I flipped him off. “Fuck you, bro. Pretty sure I can control myself.” I glanced at Yarder. “Are there going to be cameras everywhere?”
Compass chuckled. “Not everywhere, but there will be quite a few. There will also be a TV crew following certain people around depending on what’s going on or where you are going.”
“Dude,” Smoke laughed. “We’re gonna be fucking famous.”
Yarder shook his head. “We don’t know what is going to happen with the show, but we do know we’re going to get paid a hefty amount that is going to help us out of the hole.”
“The show might bring us more business,” I pointed out.
“That is the real reason why we’re excited to do this. If the show gets out to the right people, and we don’t look like punks, this could be great for us.” Compass sat back in his chair.
“Which is why I was riding you guys to keep your dick in your pants. I don’t want this to be some show about you dicks being manwhores.” Yarder nodded to me. “I didn’t mean to get so pissed, but I’ve been dealing with a lot of shit.”
“Shit you should have told us about instead of being a dick to us and keeping secrets.” Throttle stood and pushed his chair in. “We done?” he asked.
Yarder motioned to the door. “We’re done.”
Throttle walked out the door, and thirty seconds later, his bike cranked up.
“You think we should go after him?” Fade asked.
Compass shook his head. “By the time you get out there, he’ll already be at the town limits, brother. Just let him go.”
