Paparazzi by Erika Vanzin
I open my eyes to Dexter’s rear end pointed straight at my face. His tail is raised, revealing all the intimate parts. “Gross. Can’t you at least turn the other way? I prefer your dry-food breath,” I complain aloud.
Next to me, a chuckle makes me turn to find Thomas’s amused face. He grabs my cat and snuggles him on his chest to caress him. The traitor furball immediately begins to purr.
“Of course you two are plotting against me. I’m surprised you haven’t killed me in my sleep yet.” I roll my eyes and try to get up, but Thomas holds me back.
“Not even a good morning kiss?” he asks, sticking out his lower lip like a kid.
“You don’t deserve it,” I reply, irritated.
Thomas gets Dexter out of bed, then makes me lie down again by rolling over me and tucking between my legs. He presses his morning wood against my most sensitive parts, reigniting my lower belly that has barely slept since last night when we relieved our stress as intimately as possible. Afterwards, I slept like a log in his arms. Since the streets around my apartment are still crawling with journalists and fans who don’t show any sign of leaving, when we got in from Connecticut yesterday, he was forced to spend the night, and I didn’t complain.
“Are you sure?” he whispers in my ear as he gently kisses my neck and sends a shiver of pleasure down my body that makes my back arch, seeking more contact.
“When you put it that way, I think I can make an exception,” I reply as I stick a hand in his boxers.
“Uh, no, miss. We have to get up and take a shower, or we’ll be late for the interview.” He chuckles as he gets up and fixes his boxers, giving me a full view of his perfectly sculpted chest, and then heads to the kitchen to make coffee.
I let out a frustrated puff and get up. “You are going to pay for this.” I point my finger at him as I lock myself in the bathroom.
When I get out, Thomas has cooked breakfast, fed Dexter, and brought the dishes to the table. With such a sexy man in the kitchen, I could consider living together. The thought makes me blush.
“What?” Thomas’s eyebrow perks up.
“Nothing, I was just thinking how sexy you are when you’re walking around in my kitchen half-naked...even dressed, actually,” I admit with a chuckle.
Thomas approaches me, kisses me passionately, leaving me breathless, and the taste of coffee on his lip awakens my senses. “You’re damn sexy all the time, even when you sleep.”
I doubt this is true since I snore worse than a train, but I accept his compliment blushing. “Are you ready for the interview?” I ask as I sink my fork into the eggs and enjoy a mouthful of the delicious breakfast he has prepared.
He shrugs and sips his coffee, washing down the piece of toast. “Yes, as much as you can be prepared to tell the world that you’ve been to prison,” he admits honestly.
“Do you want to think about it? I don’t think the others would blame you.”
“No, I need to say it and put my life in order. We’ve had enough years to prove to everyone that we’ve really changed. If anyone has something to say, it’s their problem.”
I really admire him for what he’s doing. I appreciate his strength in facing life so decisively, even though it has brought him to his knees in a brutal way. He got up, healed his scars, and put the pieces back together masterfully. I respect him for that.
“Do you think your sister will talk to you after the interview?” I know this is the most important part for him.
He shrugs as he chews a piece of bacon. “I don’t know. I hope so, but I have no illusions. She decided to cut off all contact with me and stuck to it even after I clearly proved that I had moved beyond it. I don’t think this great gesture of mine will make things any better between us.”
I don’t say anything, but I hope with all my heart that his sister will change her mind because I didn’t meet Thomas when he was a kid, but I know for a fact that the man in front of me is worth reconnecting with. He’s loving, he cares about the people in his life, he’s got his life back on track, and he’s living it to the fullest. There’s nothing about him that would make me give up on bringing him into my kids’ lives, and I hope his sister realizes that.
*
“These are the questions I have prepared. Tell me if you don’t want to answer something or if you want to add more,” I explain as I put the camera on the tripod in the living room of Damian and Lilly’s house, the place they chose for the interview. It is a familiar, welcoming environment where they feel comfortable and can speak freely without being interrupted.
The guys read the questions carefully while Lilly is in the kitchen talking to Evan. This is an aspect of Damian’s life that will also affect her life and career. While the Jailbirds have finished their fourth album under contract, the Red Velvet Curtains have yet to release their first and, if the record label got angry, they could stall forever in getting it out, which would destroy their career. I admire her for never having a doubt about supporting her partner at this challenging time. And to think that at first, no one believed in their relationship, given Damian’s history with women.
Evan is smiling at her, but his rigid posture reveals he’s tense for this interview, although years of working in this industry have led him to mask his feelings well. Right now, his entire career is at stake, along with the Jailbirds. Many of his clients may decide to change managers. In this industry, reputation is everything, and he’s dancing on the razor’s edge with this interview. The way he manages this emergency will determine his future career.
“I think they’re perfect.” Damian catches my attention and makes me look back at the sofa where all four of them are already sitting with their microphones on.
Thomas is studying me curiously. It’s not the first time he’s done it during an interview, but it’s the first time he’s been on the other side of the camera. Now he’s also my boss, since I signed the contract to work with them almost two days ago.
I turn on the camera and motion that we’re ready. They smile at me, and I start with the first question. “You chose Jailbirds as the name of the band. Why?”
Damian takes the lead in an utterly convincing way. He seems almost relaxed, leaning against the back of the sofa in his house, no hesitation in his voice: “The four of us met when we were only sixteen years old, in a juvenile detention center. We all ended up there for crimes that weren’t dangerous but serious enough to land us in jail for a couple of years. We were four scared kids fighting to survive in an environment far from suitable for our young, impressionable minds. We had no hope, no one had confidence in us, and we didn’t know what else to do but get into fights. Prison guards called us ‘jailbirds.’ In prison jargon, they’re the ones without a future, who spend their lives going in and out of prison. We were seen as hopeless and treated as such. Little criminals with no futures, hence the name for the band.”
“But things turned out differently. We’ve all seen it,” I continue with my interview. Ironically, my voice is the least confident.
Thomas takes the floor now, and the intense look he gives me almost makes my legs tremble.
“In prison, a psychologist ran a program which tried to rehabilitate boys with less serious crimes. The four of us were her pet project, proof that kids shouldn’t be thrown away, that there was still hope. She was the only one who believed in us, to see us as more than just thugs. She suggested we form a band and we did, having two hours of practice every day under the supervision of the guards. That’s what saved us those two years. It kept us sane and able to drown out the voices of those who told us we were worth nothing. When we got out of there, we were lost, confused. No one wanted to give us a job, but we had our music. We started playing in the clubs that didn’t require references. Then we met Evan, who believed in us more than anyone and took us all the way to the largest record label in the country.” Thomas’s words enter me as if he’s telling me directly and not the whole world. I have to look down and read the next question to ease the tension a little.
“Did Evan and the record company know about your past?”
It’s Michael’s turn to respond. “Yes, but while all of us wanted to be up front about who we were right away, the label thought it would tarnish their image. They said the world wasn’t ready for a band of ex-convicts, that we’d be remembered just for that. We wanted to lose that stigma, show the world that we were more than just the mistakes of our past, and we fucking did. But when we became famous enough to prove it, we had already signed a confidentiality agreement with the record company.”
“What has changed now? Why did you decide to speak up now after almost eight years into your career?”
This time Simon responds, and even though I already know the answer to this question, I can’t help but feel a squeeze in my stomach as I hear it. This is the decision that will completely change their lives, their careers, their future.
“Because our contract with the record company included four albums. The fourth will be released soon and when it is, our relationship with them will end, we’ll be free from the contract, and we’ve decided not to continue with them. We don’t care if this album does well or not. We couldn’t care less if we put more money into the record company’s pockets...hell, if you want to download it illegally, do it, as long as you talk to your friends about it. It’s not about money. It’s about the honesty and respect we’re going to earn with our fans. We’re already working on the fifth album and we’re going to do a tour once it’s finished. If we don’t fill stadiums like before, that’s fine with us. It’s the music that matters to us. It saved us once. It’s going to save us again.”
His honesty and enthusiasm are so contagious that the serious tone that’s permeated the interview so far seems to lighten. You can see it in their eyes—they’re finally free from a burden that they’ve been carrying for too long. They can breathe now like they never were able to before.
“So, for now, you’re without a record company?”
“Yes, if anyone wants to volunteer...” Damian laughs as he runs a hand through his hair. It’s not as nervous a gesture as I would have expected.
The interview continues with other slightly lighter questions that focus on their intentions for the future and, when I finally turn off the camera, their enthusiasm turns to joy. Evan and Lilly bring out beer for everyone and we all take a moment to process what we just did, sipping the cold liquid silently while we gather our thoughts.
*
We’re still at Lilly and Damian’s place when I finish editing the video and loading it onto the blog site. We gather around the screen to read the comments. It’s as though people had been waiting for this their entire life. Aside from the usual toxic ones who spread negativity online like it’s their job, most are words of encouragement. Some people admire their decision to change, others tell their story, very similar to that of the Jailbirds only without the same happy ending, and some wish them continued success. Unexpectedly, their confession seems to have worked out quite favorably for the Jailbirds—at least for the immediate future.
Evan’s phone starts blowing up. We all anticipate a verdict, something that reveals how industry insiders took the news. “Pretty much every TV station in the country wants an interview with you. There are already a couple of record companies asking for a meeting...” He smiles, a gesture that seems relaxed but that no one has any idea how to interpret.
“Is that a good thing?” Damian gives voice to what we’re all thinking.
“It’s very positive at the moment. It’s publicity for you. I’m going to have to work overtime to handle all this attention. Hell, I’m not going to sleep for weeks.” He laughs as he runs a hand over immaculate hair.
“Do you need help? Because I know a person who would like to do exactly this job and would do it for free.”
Thomas looks at me, puzzled. “Who the hell would that be?”
“Emily.”
“Oh! Yeah, and that woman has the balls to handle it,” Thomas admits with such seriousness everyone bursts out laughing.
“It seems like she’s already kicked your ass once,” Michael jokes.
“Twice, actually,” Thomas admits, joining in the laughter.
“Call her immediately. I want her here in less than an hour.” Evan points his finger at me as he turns to answer an email.
“Really? Do you really want me to call her?”
“Do I look like I’m joking?”
I raise my hands in surrender and pull out my phone. It seems that life is about to change for everyone, not just the Jailbirds.