“How is this legal?That fence doesn’t look nearly high enough for the road being so close.” The rubber is worn and soft beneath my hands as I adjust my grip on the golf club.
Arun waves a lazy hand at it and motions for me to hit the ball. “This place has been up and running for months now. If there were any accidents I’m sure it would’ve been shut down already.”
“A driving range in the middle of the city doesn’t seem like a smart idea,” I mutter but square up anyway. It’s been years since I golfed, and when I make contact with the ball, it shows. I shank it to the left and curse. Arun chuckles behind me and I shoot him a dirty look. “What exactly are you doing here in the middle of the day? Don’t you have work to do?”
He leans against a post to prop up the golf bags. “I could ask you the same thing, but I already know the answer.”
“Fuck you.” I tee up another ball and hit that one in the same exact spot as the others.
“Keep your hips in place while you swing,” Arun coaches. Always got a piece of advice, this old manager of mine.
Although old doesn’t exactly describe Arun. He’s in his early forties and still fit despite most of his time being spent on the road with clients or late nights at shows. He signed us when we were eighteen and gave us the real shot we had at moving out here to LA.
He was our first and only manager we had throughout our career, and Nikolai and Walker still work with him today. When the rest of the guys left their families behind in Pittsburgh, Arun became their new father figures.
He became the only one I ever knew.
I hit a few more balls with similar shitty outcomes and relent the tee to Arun. “Maybe try a driver next time,” he offers and grabs a club out of his bag that I’m sure costs more than some people’s entire set of clubs.
“I’m just rusty. Been boxing more these days than anything else.”
“That’s good for you. Healthy way to get out all that bottled-up shit you got in store.”
I grab my water bottle off the ground and take a long sip while Arun carefully lines up his shot. The club slices through the air with a sharp swoosh and the ball goes flying. It gets lost in the blue sky and I never see where it lands, but it must’ve been a good shot because Arun has a little extra pep as he tees up another one.
He hits a few more while we make small talk, before he hands me his driver to try and says, “So why’d you really track me down today? Last night made it seem like youdidn’t think we ever had reason to speak again since we don’t work together anymore.” Something akin to hurt flashes in his dark eyes, and my palms grow clammy against the grip of the club.
A mile-long list starts to rattle itself off in my head until a dull roar fills my head. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Then how did you mean it?”
“Fuck, I don’t know. Why do you even want to talk to me if I’m not your client? You’ve got other people to worry about now.”Why do you want anything to do with me after everything?
Arun crosses his arms, dark skin stark against his crisp white button up, and levels me with a contemplative stare. “I told you all when you decided to break up and go your separate ways that I would still always be there for you—business relationship or not. You four are like the sons I never had time for, and the first big artists I signed. I didn’t just take a chance on you, but you all took a chance on me. That doesn’t stop. Our relationship wasn’t purely transactional like you seem to believe.”
“I don’t believe that…”
Arun looks out over the range. “Well, I’m going to assume you’re not going to be forthright and tell me why you wanted to meet with me, so let me take a guess and you can tell me if I’m hot or cold.”
I glare at him, and a small smirk lifts the corner of his mouth.
“Does this have to do with you ditching the party early last night?”
I blink and he nods, satisfied with himself.
“And would it have to do with seeing Hayden and Nikolai for the first time in months?”
“I’ve seen Nikolai recently.” Not in the last month or so, but he’s been busy.
“Okay, just Hayden then.”
Again, he takes my silence as confirmation.
“What happened last night? I didn’t hear any shouting or see any punching—thank you for that—but I take it something set you off?”
There’s no hesitation telling Arun about my conversation with Hayden. We’re the only two out on the range, and he’s seen us at our best and worst.
“They brought up the wedding in front of you. I don’t think they would’ve done that if they weren’t going to invite you,” he says, narrowing his eyes contemplatively.
