Mac and Adam are on top of the world--flying high as members of the one of the world's most successful bands- Soundcrush.
After crushing on each other since their band got together five years ago, having years of hot nights and awkward mornings aft...
I am super excited about this chapter. It's the first time we have EVER heard Bodie's voice. We learn a little about his background, and this scene is a fork in the road for Bodie that he'll take through Leed's book. It's gonna be a rough ride for him (the song above should give you a clue), and I'm not sure what shape he's going to be in when we arrive at his own Book 4....Drastic.
Without further ado, let's get our first image of Bodie, and the infamous Candy Girl that arrives with the label entourage...
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Bodie
I'm laughing at the way we are standing here by this line of Escalades, waiting for Moran to grace us with his presence. Trace, all rigid and tense, Leed making a show of slouchin' a little in rebellion, Riley, on point, looking like he's done this manager meet and greet shit a million times.
Kind of reminds me of that show about all the old-timey British rich people, you know? When the Lord and Lady come back home to the big mansion and all the staff lines up in front of the house to greet them. Yeah, that's what we look like. I can tell it's rubbing Trace and Leed the wrong way. They are used to be the Lords, not the servants.
It doesn't make a damn to me. I don't mind playing the bitch, as long as we get done with it quick and then we actually get to play the bitch. Playin' the shows is honest-to-god what I live for.
So, Imma do my thing during the Moran Meeting: let the guys that like to talk the shit talk the shit.
I'm really not that worried about this label-promoter-lawsuit nonsense. Everybody actin' like we're gonna be busted or something.
It don't matter if they sue us, tie us up in court, bankrupt us, if my bank account gets reduced from a number with six zeroes behind it to a number with just two or three. We can make one big appearance, take one endorsement, and make as much money as most families live on for a year. In my book, that ain't busted.
I been busted. That's how I know.
I been flat out on the hood of a cop car when I was twelve years old, scared shitless.
I been laid out on the floor of a holding cell at fifteen, not sure whether the pain I was feeling was from violence I suffered during my arrest or pain-inducing terror. My guts clenched in agony, thinking about the pushers up my chain, cause all the shit I was supposed to sell for them was now in the property room of an Atlanta lock-up.
People get shot over way the fuck less, where I'm from.
By the grace of god and my momma, who refused to let me get lost in that world, I escaped my Atlanta troubles with probation and fled down to Athens to live with my Uncle and Aunt and my cousin Tam.
Once I got hooked up with a little school and a little Leed and a lot of music, you would think I woulda known better than to get on the other end of the drug business, but sometimes I'm a slow learner like that.
