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It helps that we had time to rehearse together on this stage a few hours ago too. Throughout all of it, Draven has looked like he can’t help but glance over at her, touch her skin when he talks to her. When the hell did they get so close, and why does it bother me so much?
“I may join you,” Atlas grunts. “Layla shows off her savior complex and he practically swoons into her arms. I don’t get it. Why is the perfect boyfriend also not more upset about it?”
Tyler has taken over Kyle’s job of making sure everything is running smoothly. He took his checklist and ran through it faster than anyone else could have other than Jordan. I almostdon’t mind this part because it means Layla and we will have a good concert.
Tyler’s bark definitely gets people moving, that’s for sure.
Layla’s eyes trail over to where Tyler is talking to a roadie about something, and her lips twitch in amusement.
“I don’t know why I was worried he’d be bored tonight,” she chuckles. Kyle comes out of a back room with his hair mussed, a roadie following him. They’re not even trying to be discreet. I can’t deal with idiot managers anymore.
Not after Prescott and her crazy bullshit. The girl fucked us over so hard when she wasThe Darkest Nights'manager. Managers are supposed to be our organizational team so that everything runs smoothly.
Using our time and the label’s money to drain his balls isn’t acceptable. I also don’t like how there were dark circles under Layla’s eyes earlier today, either, and that could be why I’m being a growly asshole.
I shouldn’t care, but I’m not willing to look at why I do right now. Avoidance and firing this asshole over there will go a long way toward changing my mood, though.
“I hope Tyler is ready to be our new manager in the interim,” I grunt as my feet move into action. I barely hear her words as I walk over to Kyle and grab his shirt at the back of his neck. “Hey, Kyle. Can we talk?”
“Is there a problem?” he asks, eyes wide. “You’re supposed to be on stage soon. I figured you wouldn’t need me.”
“See, we don’t, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t things to be done. See Tyler over there? He’s making sure every detail is covered,” I tell him. I know it’s not his job, but I have to admit that it’s nice knowing it’s done. My guitar went missing for an hour, making me panic. No one knew where it was.
Tyler found where someone had moved it, and then proceeded to lecture the person on why instruments shouldn’tbe moved into a random storage space. Regardless, this should have been Kyle’s job.
“I could have done that,” Kyle grumbles. “I figured everything was done. What is he even doing?”
“Your job,” I say smugly. “Please pack your bags and get the fuck out. We'll let the label know that you’ve been relieved of your position.”
“Excuse me? You can’t do that,” Kyle complains.
Layla walks up as he argues, her brows drawn down. We have fifteen minutes before we have to go on, but this couldn’t wait.
“Did we just fire our manager?” she asks brightly. There is no ire in her voice. I don’t deserve her understanding or support, but she easily gives it to me anyway.
“Yep, seems so,” I tell her. “Are you okay with that?”
“Pretty sure he was fucking a roadie on the job, so I actually am. Get the fuck out, Kyle. We have a show to do, without you,” she says. There’s a shadow that passes over her face, and I know she’s thinking about Jordan.
I don’t know where he is, but I hope he makes an appearance soon. None of us have heard from him, and that’s just not like him. Tyler walks over, already checking his watch. He’s been very on top of things, as much as I hate to admit it. He can have the job.
“I think we just added to your job description,” I snort. “I just fired Kyle.”
“Good riddance. I’ll email the label,” Tyler says to Kyle’s face with a shrug. “Do you need an invitation to leave, or can you just go?”
“I’ll go,” Kyle mutters, practically stomping away. Layla bites her lip, but Tyler shakes his head at her. “He was making you crazy anyway, Baby. I may need a little grace while I figure it out, but I got this.”
“You’re already doing a better job than he was,” I tell him. Tyler looks surprised, but I can rise above my issues with him. They aren’t really even issues, it’s more the fact that he’s my age and regularly puts his dick inside of Layla. That’s my issue.
Not really much I can do to get him to stop, though.
“I’ll see what the label wants to do, even if I coordinate with someone in LA while the tour continues. This isn’t exactly my forte,” Tyler says, blowing out a breath.
“Sorry,” Layla winces. “Kyle was really vile, though. Mr. Laurence offered to send someone new a few days ago, but I thought we could stick it out.”
“That’s the problem,” I growl. “You always let things go on for too long, and then you find yourself in a mess. Grow a damn backbone.”
Layla’s eyes grow large, her pouty lips parting open. There are so many things I want to do to those lips, which is why I throw up an arm in disgust and stalk away. Fuck, I was doing so well, and managed to lose my cool yet again.
