Page 8 of Diva Pop

Oh sure, Silas would pin Jett to the couch in a hot second if he were there for any other reason, but he wasn’t. They were manager and client—nothing more.

“Jett, the last thing I want is for you to feel threatened by these new developments. Be assured that I’m aware of how talented you are and appreciate your contribution to the band’s success.”

“Humph.” Jett tugged on his hair before twirling a bit around his finger. “Weird way of showing it by hiring new guys to steal the spotlight from me.”

Silas chuckled. “I doubt anyone could do that.”

Jett’s eyes widened a tad and Silas realized he’d shown Jett too much of his hand. He cleared his throat and made an attempt to do some damage control.

“I want you to understand where I’m coming from, Jett. I have no choice but to deal with the hard facts regarding this industry. One of those facts is that nothing stays the same, everything changes. If an artist or band doesn’t remain fresh and alive, relevant, then they wither away and die.”

Silas swallowed hard at the expression of horror on Jett’s face. Clearly, he didn’t know Jett well enough yet to understand all the nuances that could send him into a downward spiral.

Before Silas had the chance to ponder what he could say next to remove the anxiety Jett was feeling, Jett shot to his feet.

“I see. I’m stale, dead and irrelevant. Awesome.” He whirled around, marching toward the back of the house. “We’ll just see about that tomorrow at rehearsal. Lock the door on your way out.”

In an alternate universe, the one where Silas was Jett’s Daddy and Jett was his boy, he wouldn’t tolerate such rudeness. But in the present universe, Silas had to smile.

Jett was strong and determined, not one to give up without a fight regardless of how hurt he was. That was the sign of a truly dedicated artist and man. Would a firm hand and guidance from someone who truly cared about Jett be the ideal situation for him? Absolutely.

Too bad Silas couldn’t audition for the role.

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