That’s the next one. A female journalist who once asked Cal to marry her during an interview a couple of years back.
Seems her favor’s gone out of the window for this year’s press tour.
There’s always a list of pre-approved questions, but it seems like today every single journalist has gone rogue. Iri glowers as each of them voices their questions, and I can see Dorian getting more and more wound up. It’s normally him and Iri that do most of the talking, but today he’s clearly not in the mood.
"Some people say your success is more about image than talent. How do you respond to accusations that your music relies on you being monsters instead of talent?”
I suck in a breath as Dorian pushes to his feet. I’m not sure if he’s about to hit the guy or storm out.
This is exactly why we’re all done with touring. The music is still something we all love. But the lifestyle and the bullshit that comes along with it? Not so much.
It feels strange to not be exposed to every person’s emotions as they tear into us. I glance over at Sin and am surprised to see her shoulders shaking. Panic shoots through my veins and I yank off the cuff, only to be battered by a wild mix of desperation, irritation and... amusement?
She glances up from whatever she’s tinkering with and I see that she’s laughing, or trying really hard not to.
Relief chases the panic out and I let out a breath, smirking in return.
She’s right, this entire thing is ridiculous. Especially since I’m pretty sure my face and Cal’s fingers still taste like her sweet pussy. I lean over and snap the cuff onto Dorian’s wrist and shrug when he shoots me a confused look.
Normally, this entire situation would be overwhelming for me. But today, with Sin here—knowing that instead of going back to a lonely hotel room later, I’m going to be taking her out for dinner like she deserves—none of it seems so dire.
When Dorian settles back in his seat, slumping down with a much calmer expression on his face, the atmosphere in the room shifts. Jules shoots us a look and stands, escorting the latest prick of a journalist out. As soon as they’re out of the room, it’s like someone’s deflated all the tension.
“Fuck. Do you think this is how everyone’s going to react since it’s our last tour? We’re gonna wind up with an audience of people pissed that we’re done?”
“I hope not,” Dorian replies. He turns to me as Iri hands over bottles of water to each of us. “Thanks for the cuff, man. I could have strangled that prick. Appreciate you pulling me back like that.”
“You’re welcome.”
“And thanks for lending it to me on the plane. It was fucking nuts how different it felt when I didn’t expect us to fall out of the sky at any moment.”
I share a quick grin with Cal, who is trying to hide a smirk behind his fist. “It was no hardship.”
“You should sell these things,” Dorian calls over to Sin, waving his wrist in the air.
She cocks her head to one side. “You think?”
“For sure. Maybe the press should be given one and then they’d chill the fuck out with their questions.”
Then the door opens and Julia ushers the next person inside and we start the whole process again.
Luckily, the next set of journalists have either had a stern talking to by Julia, or they’re in a less combative mood. Their questions return to mundane stuff we could answer in our sleep and Iri takes charge of answering most of them with Dorian and me chipping in whenever we need to.
Cal’s focus is entirely on Sin. He doesn’t even try to act like he’s paying attention to the interviewers, instead boring holes in the side of her head as she focuses on her own work.
I can’t blame him. My eyes skirt to the clock on the wall more than is professional as I count down the hours and minutes.
Just another couple of hours, and then she’s all ours.
BY THE TIME OUR INTERVIEWSare all wrapped up, Cal and I are desperate to head out. He has his arms firmly crossed, and he’s giving death glares to every new journalist that appears, while I can’t seem to stop my leg jiggling.
When Iri pulls Sin to one side and starts talking to her in a low, intense tone, I want to grab her and get the hell out of here, and Cal looks three seconds away from tossing her over his shoulder.
For a moment, I wonder if Iri’s going to invite himself to our dinner. I don’t think either of us would mind. His obsession with Sin started before he ever laid eyes on her, and it only seems to have grown stronger the more time they spend together.
Not that he’s made it obvious to her.
I’m not sure he realizes that just yet, either.
