Chapter 2 #4
I stared at him. “Because they post about it all,” I said. “Millie posts for Damian and she does a great job. She does everything for him.”
“He needs publicity for his music. Yeah, I get it.”
“I think that since you have a flip phone, you’ve been a little left out of the social media revolution,” I said. “Everybody posts all the time.”
“I know about that shit, I just don’t do it. Do you?”
“Sure,” I said, nodding. “My social media is all stuff about Damian. It’s great for his career.
” The posts weren’t getting as much attention lately, but I privately attributed that problem to the tracks on his latest album, not our poor promotion of it.
The music was boring and dumb, but of course I had kept that opinion to myself.
But anyone could tell, because when his songs came on in the clubs?
The reactions had been a lot of shrugs and people had left the dance floor. Millie had always looked nervous.
“It could probably help your career, too,” I mentioned. “Who are the biggest players on your new team?” I pointed to the name on the T-shirt I wore.
“You mean the tallest or the heaviest?” Callum questioned.
“No, like, the most popular,” I said patiently. This guy was so out of touch.
“I have no idea.” He thought. “The quarterback, probably. They always get a lot of attention.”
“We could look up how many followers he has. No, we can’t until we have a real phone,” I remembered. “Does he sell his own merch?”
“Uh, no. I think jerseys and all that are licensed through the team. But he probably does a lot of advertising, sponsorship shit,” he said, after considering for a moment.
“Right, well, if you want advertising and sponsorships, then you have to sell yourself. Not sex work,” I made clear.
“No, I probably wouldn’t do very well with that,” he agreed.
I wasn’t so sure. A lot of women liked them big, both in body and what was in their pants.
Without his hat, I could see more of his face and he wasn’t like Damian, handsome in an LA way.
Of course, Damian had done a lot to get himself to that point, through surgeries and injections.
I assumed that Callum was totally natural and that was attractive, too.
He was more rugged and tough-looking, unrefined compared to Damian’s cut cheekbones, pouty lips, and six-hundred-dollar haircut.
Callum might have trimmed his ponytail and beard himself rather than going to a professional, but I had privately thought that Damian spent way too much on his look. I hadn’t told Millie or anyone else.
“How would you do it?” he asked. “How would you make me a commodity?”
I studied him and he helpfully held out his arms and turned his head from side to side. “You have a lot of potential,” I said after a moment. “You should lean into the bad-boy thing.”
“I don’t think that people would jump on my bandwagon if they saw how many times I’ve been arrested.”
“But everyone likes a comeback. Anyway, it makes you dangerous and interesting. Damian faked having a record so that he had more cred.”
“That’s really stupid,” he said.
I nodded. “Also, it was easy to look up and see that he didn’t really have one, so people made fun of him. But you could talk about having a hard past without getting into details, and your posts could be about how you’re struggling now but also living it up.”
Now he glanced around the kitchen. “Am I? We both just ate dinner out of the same pot.”
“Watch,” I told him. I stood and pulled on the T-shirt until I had both my arms through the neck and it was like a tube dress.
Then I took the sleeves and tied them in front, pulling in the silhouette at my waist. “If I had my hair and makeup done, this would be better,” I cautioned.
I hopped to the sink and posed with that dented pot in my hand.
“The caption would be, ‘Last meal in Indiana before we head to Michigan for Callum’s audition for the Woodsmen!’ And we could do videos of packing and finding funny things in the closets, like the old medical kit.
Then we would show our route, new things we saw along the way, and also settling into our temporary home.
When it gets to be the time for your audition, we could show you getting dressed.
Not naked, but I bet you have a nice chest so you could flex a little. Do you wax?”
He stared at me, eyebrows lowered. “Wax what?”
“Don’t worry, we would fix that first. After the audition, we could make a video when you were tired and feeling discouraged, but it would show that you weren’t going to quit. We would bring the audience along on your journey and you could teach them about football stuff.”
“If I don’t make the team, there’s no hope of sponsorships or ad revenue. And I wouldn’t call it an ‘audition,’ by the way.”
“You must think that you’re going to make it. You quit your job and you’re trying to get rid of your house,” I pointed out. “It seems certain to me.”
Callum looked at me and considered that. “We’ll see, Rainey.”
Maybe we would. I liked how that sounded.