Chapter Two #2
“Well, I would have liked to have known I was being streamed live across the world. Plus, 12K doesn’t sound like a lot to me. I don’t think you can class that as a successful PR stunt, Tillie.”
“Actually, Ryan, it’s a great number, considering your page likes are at 60K, and that’s from all over the world.
But mostly, that 60K of likes is from fans in Australia, who, I might add, are currently in bed.
So this 12K is the American and European audience you’ve broken into so far.
So, now I have spelled it out, it doesn’t sound so bad, does it? ”
He scoffs, putting his guitar down. “You still should have asked for our permission.”
I nod. “Okay. I understand you want to be involved in every… single… aspect of PR, but I have been hired for my knowledge and expertise. At the time, this was a good way to get some more likes on your social media. Understood? I won’t apologize for doing something I think will benefit the band.
If you want me to notify you beforehand, I will, but it won’t have the same impact because the band will be aware of their actions.
Next time, I will announce a live stream to gain more traction.
It was a snap decision, but it paid off.
Your page likes are still going up as I speak…
” I look down, my sassy attitude on full display.
“Oh, there’s one now, and another one, and another—”
“Quit showing off,” he interrupts sharply. “You’re not as impressive as you think you are.”
Furrowing my brows at his attitude, I’m beginning to think Lunar’s surmise of Ryan being an idiot is right on the money.
Although looking at him, I can see a glint of something in his eyes.
A soft, kind-hearted soul who needs some gentle care, perhaps.
I wonder what happened to form the dark circles under his eyes, and for him to put on this bravado act I can see right through.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asks.
“Like what?” I reply, a hint of shock in my voice as I didn’t realize I was staring at him.
“I don’t know. You’re hard to read, and you’re looking at me strangely.”
“Oh, fucking hell, Ryan, you’re so melodramatic.” Ryan frowns at Lunar as she walks in. “Leave Tillie alone. She’s the only other set of ovaries around here. I need her alive.”
“You can have her all to yourself. I got no need for her,” Ryan says.
Ouch. I’ll admit his words sting. I like to be needed, even though he is treating me like shit.
“Well, Ryan, you may not want me, but you’re stuck with me. So deal with it by pulling up your big boy panties and behaving like a damn adult. You do know what an adult is, don’t you?” I tease.
He smirks. “Funny! But would someone who behaves like an adult be so condescending?”
I stiffen because he’s right. I hate to admit it, but he’s pushing every one of my buttons and making me snappy because I’m desperate for his approval.
I am never like this. I never talk back to my clients unless there is a need for it.
I’m here solely for PR work, and usually, my clients listen to everything I say without question.
Because, after all, they’re paying for my expertise.
I’m not used to this shit.
Dammit!
“Okay, you two, am I going to have to separate you? Cut this shit out. Now! Got it?” Oliver finally speaks up.
It’s then that I notice everyone watching our exchange, and I sit a little taller, knowing I let myself get too worked up. “You’re right, Oliver. I apologize, Ryan.”
“Apology accepted,” Ryan says, but offers nothing in return.
My eyes blaze with fury, widening as the others look on. “Well?”
“Well, what?”
“Aren’t you going to apologize?” I ask.
“What for?”
“What for? What for!” I scoff, my agitation intensifying.
“Oh my… I see what you’re doing. You’re trying to rile me up and make me so angry that I’ll quit, right?
” His smile falters, showing his annoyance that I am onto him.
“Well, let me tell you, Ryan Hunter, it will take more than that to get rid of me, sir!”
He tilts his head. “Leave it to me. I’m sure I’ll think of some—”
“Ryan, ease the fuck up,” Danger berates.
Ryan snorts. “When someone takes over writing the band’s songs, let’s see how you react to it,” he spits out.
Danger, whose eyes are almost bulging out of his head, looks immediately at Oliver in question.
Oliver’s had enough—I can tell by the throbbing vein in his neck. “No one will be writing Recoil’s songs except you, Danger. Ryan’s being ridiculous.”
“See, Danger… doesn’t feel good, does it?” Ryan almost yells.
Danger swallows, as do I. For the first time, I feel awful about my position here and wonder how tenable it is now. But I want this band to succeed, and with the PR being handled the way it was, it definitely won’t.
Recoil needs me, even though Ryan might disagree.
“Okay, I think we’re done here. Let’s go home and come back refreshed tomorrow, yeah?” Oliver asks.
Without another word, unwilling to let him see he’s gotten under my skin, I stand and walk out as quickly as I can, refusing to look back. I took the bait—hook, line, and sinker. I’ll be ready for him next time. And yes, something tells me this is far from over.
The drive home, fortunately, is without incident as I still haven’t fully gotten my rage under control. I practice my deep-breathing exercises, and gradually the tension in my shoulders eases.
After pulling into my parking garage, I head inside my quaint little one-story modern villa. My chocolate-colored Cavoodle, Piper, barks and jumps at my feet. Seeing her always melts away any stress I have. I lean down, petting her wavy fur, and smile.
“Hey, girl, Mama missed you today.” I close the door, head into the living room, and plop myself on the couch.
Piper jumps onto my lap, curling into a ball.
Glancing at the table, I see the photograph of me with my grandma.
I can’t help but remember how I had to take care of her during her final years.
It was so hard to watch her fade away, but it gave me empathy to care for people who can’t care for themselves, and I see that now in Ryan.
My need to help him—even though he’s seriously testing me—is outweighing my anger toward him.
As I sit here, with Piper snuggled in my lap, I realize that maybe, just maybe, helping Ryan might heal us both in ways we never expected.