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Looking over my phone from my spot on the couch, I catch Mac’s desperate eyes set on his brother who sits next to me and stares daggers at one of the security guys their mother convinced to stay.
Which means Toby is around somewhere, but I’ve yet to be introduced.
The other brother of the band is Leo, band manager and brains to the operation.
Rex’s words, not mine.
He sits in the corner and scours over his phone similar to me, except he’s donning a fucking three piece suit and looks nothing like the type to hang with Rex, the walking canvas.
All business versus straight up artist.
Mac has a few pieces of ink himself, but nothing compared to his brother.
Then there’s Fin. The outsider that came into the band much later than the rest. He’s intimidating at best, covered in ink and enough piercings to jam up a metal detector. His demeanor screams some cross ofdon’t fuck with meandI definitely know how to get away with murder.Both terrifying in their own right, but he smiles for Rex’s mom and hasn’t been nasty to me.
He’s one of those that likes nasty shit. I feel it in my bones.
The thoughts widen my eyes that I divert back to my phone in order to tame them.
That was rude as hell, Aria.
You don’t know this man.
Scrolling, the article I’d opened furrows my brow the more I read.
The stronger the bond, the weaker the man.
As Above’slead vocalist heads home for mother and brother to lick his wounds after viral embarrassment making his clumsy nature the number one talked about venture of the last 48 hours.
It’s a shame that rock music has stooped to this level of victimization and necessity for care.
Back in the day, Ozzy would have done a line off of a whore’s tit and kept singing.
Who the hell does this guy think he is muddying the genre with his pitiful nature?
Subscribe if you think Rex Thompson and his brother should just stay home and let Mommy take good care of them.
Pitiful?!
Fucking pitiful?!
“If anyone is fucking pitiful, it’s you, sir.” I seethe with a reddened face and fisting hands. “What the fuck?”
“Babe?” Before I realize what’s happened, I’ve already slapped Rex’s reach away from my chin with only a slight bit of misplaced anger.
“What the fuck is right.” I hear Mac mutter.
“Oh, shit.” I hiss at the look on his face. Grabbing his arm, I flash the screen to Rex. “What the fuck is this shit? They talk about you like this all the time?”
“I fucking told you not to click on shit,” Ian snaps my phone from my grasp before I even register he’s entered the room.
“It was right in my feed, Ian.” I snap back and try to snatch my phone, missing by a hair when Ian evades me, his eyes scouring over the article.
“Hmph.”
“Hmph?!That’s all you can say to that?!” I stand and stalk up to the towering bodyguard like I’m his equal and pry my phone from his grip with venom lacing my words. “He basically called my boyfriend a fucking pussy. Fuck this guy. I’m gonna destroy him.”
“Listen here, Scarlett, I fucking told you not to read this shit.” Ian snaps the phone back from my raging fists and stalks out like he’s pissed at me.
