Page 32 of My Five Daddies

10

Ethan

I’m notsure what time it is, but it’s already dark out. Normally light spills in through the big windows in the chapel but now it’s only weak yellow street lamps streaming in onto theequipment.

I lean back in my chair and sigh. I’ve been mastering and leveling Dustin’s recordings all night. Some of it’s pretty good, but he’s still rough. His guitar playing is sloppy and amateurish, and we definitely don’t have time to teach him before we cut hisalbum.

I rub my temples, exhausted. We’re going to have to get him to let someone else play the guitar track, or I’ll have to get someone else to come in, dub in better playing, and I’ll bury Dustin’s tracks deep in the mix. I hate having to do shit like this, but it’s not uncommon for newartists.

I just have to figure it out. I take a deep breath and let it out, closing my eyes. The memory of Tori comes drifting slowly back into my mind, her lips wrapped around my cock, my cum on her face. She’s so fucking beautiful, so fucking sexy, I can barely understand any ofthis.

I’m not the sharing type. I don’t really go in for all that “bro” crap some of the other guys are into. I like having a group of friends, and I’ve known these guys forever, but there are just some things I’m not downwith.

Sharing women is one of them. But with Tori, it’s somehow different. I don’t know, it’s like the whole group just decided that it’s okay to share her and it’s not weird at all. Somehow that makes it normal, like we’ve been dong this sort of thing forever. Truth is, wehaven’t.

But we have been getting a little bored lately. I open my eyes and glance at the time finally. It’s past midnight, which surprises me. I grab my phone and dial a number, not sure if he’s going to pick up ornot.

“You’re still working, aren’t you?” he asks when the phone clickson.

“Sure am,” I say. “Did you know Dustin is an awfulguitarist?”

“I could’ve guessed. The kid’s just akid.”

Will is always so eloquent, especially late at night. “What are you doing rightnow?”

“Trying not to sleep,” hesays.

“Good. Meet meout?”

“Sure.When?”

“Now.”

“See yousoon.”

We hang up and I sit there a second before hitting the playback button one more time. Dustin’s voice comes through, smooth andsweet.

The kid’s got talent. He’s going to go places, but he’s a fucking moron and he’s really hard to manage. We’re hoping Tori can help with that, but we’ll see. So far it’s fine, but it’s early in this process. We need to get an album from this kid, a real fucking album that we can sell. This isn’t art, what we’re making. It’s fun and people are going to love it, but it’s notart.

I stand up and stretch. I gave up on making art a long timeago.

I shut down the system, save all my work, and close up shop. The streets are empty as I walk a few blocks south, taking my time. Will’s already at the bar when I get to Bob’s. I sit down next to him and the bartender brings me awhisky.

“So why aren’t you sleeping?” I ask him, sipping mydrink.

He shrugs a little, hunched over a beer. “Got myreasons.”

“You’re not normally the deep and broodingtype.”

He grins a little. “Can’t denythat.”

We’re quiet for a second. He sips his drink and I look around the place. Bob’s is a little dive with a big, open-center bar and a little dance floor on the right. The decorative signage used to be fancy vintage once, but now it’s just grungy. Graffiti covers the walls, and the men’s room is papered over with porn cutouts of nakedwomen.

Overall, it’s an awesome bar. It’s a good mix of locals and young people, though on a weeknight it’s mostly just locals. Will lives around the block from here, and I’m a few blocks further south, so we meet up for a drink all the time. It’s conveniently located between home and work, so I can’t really help myselfsometimes.

“It’s about her, isn’t it?” I askfinally.

“Probably,” headmits.

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