Masochistic Melodies// Ryden

I: A Proper Introduction

As the music of the dimly lit clubs cheap speakers blared in my ears everything seemed to move at once. Almost synchronized. The perfect array of bodies against bodies. The adrenaline and the urgency. It's a formula for disaster. For mistakes.

"HEY ROSS?!" I heard someone call from close behind me. I'd know that voice anywhere.

That, ladies and gentlemen is one of the worlds mistakes.

I looked into the direction of the noise to see the one and only Gabriel Sapporta. High off his ass, surrounded by a crowd of admirers.

This should be great for press.

"Damn it Gabe." I thought to myself
"What's he doing now?"

"What is it, Sapporta?" I said, sounding harsher than I intended
"Hey, hey relax." he replied "I was just gonna ask if you wanted to do a line with me. God knows you need to loosen up a little."

Was he serious?! He's weeks away from releasing his second studio album, this place is crawling with paparazzi, and he has an image to uphold. I swear the man's fucking crazy!

With that thought I put my hands to my temples and attempted to fend off the incoming migraine already settling into my brain. Count to 10. Deep breaths. Patience.

I can't afford to snap at him now. Not when we're this close to releasing his album. To a tour. To a stable career.
If he could just act like a decent human being for a few weeks.
"Gabriel." I muttered trying to keep control of my temper "Can I talk to you alone for a second?"

"Sure, sure!" He replied, separating himself from his audience "Excuse me a minute ladies!"
"What are you thinking?" I asked pulling him aside "You have an album release in six weeks Gabe. You can't afford to fuck up your image right now."

"Celebrating!" He said, seemingly unaware of how loud he actually was.

"Goddamn it, man I've told you about doing shit like this." I replied "No drugs. No drinks." That was the mantra

"Can you not stop bitching at me for five seconds?! Believe it or not, I can handle myself without  some uptight bastard having to babysit me! You know sometimes you can be such a fucking-"

"Hey" I yelled approaching the nearest bouncer and handing him a $50 bill "make sure no paparazzi get through here. We're going out the back."

"You got it Mr. Ross." The guard replied

I then took Gabe by the wrist and set out for the back entrance of the bar.
"Dude-Hey what the fuck?! What are you doing?!" he protested

"Getting you out of here before you make the cover of "Us" magazine."

"I'm just having a little fun! That's all! Something you don't know shit about. See, if you just fucking loosened up a little..."

By this point I'd just decided to tune him out. My patience wouldn't last much longer if I payed attention anyway.

If my patience gets any thinner, sooner or later, I'll say something that could cost me my job.

And believe me, I need the money.

I just need to keep going.

"....and that was an absolute dick move! Like who the hell drags a grown ass man out of a bar by his arm Ross?! Who?!" Gabe continued, relentlessly taking shots at my personality as I attempted to hail a cab

Maybe it isn't too late to file for bankruptcy.

Once I had finally gotten a drovers attention, I handed him a 20$ and got into the back before Gabe could free himself from my grasp, which naturally, had to be pretty fast.

"Hotel on Roscoe Drive please." I murmured

"Mhm." The driver replied as he set off for our destination.

"You're a fucking dick youknowthat" Gabe slurred, still barely aware of his surroundings

I just stared out the window, ignoring his incoherent babble. The lights of the city seeming much brighter than usual.

Six more weeks.

That's all.

Six more weeks.