Page 90 of Subscriber Wars

I hand her back the camera. “Don’t stop recording,” I remind her one more time. “No matter what happens.”

Aspen grins. “I wouldn’t in a million years.”

Ugh.

“Now, go get your man!”

The smack to my ass startles me forward and my friends’ muffled laughter keeps me from looking back. My friends might laugh, but they won’t let anything happen to me—at least physically. Mentally—only my future therapist knows.

The walk to Malcolm’s table of shitheads is long and filled with so many deep breaths that, instead of feeling calmer, I feel a little lightheaded. Gah! That’s all I need, to pass out in front of his table and have the paramedics come. That would ruin everything.

Okay, no more breaths. Focus. You did this for months. Today is no different.

“Yo!” I holler, my voice sounding rough and gritty. “Are you Brock?”

Brick’s head snaps up, and he follows the sound of my voice. I know what he sees: dark cropped hair, sideburns, and pasted on eyebrows that should be banned.

“Uhh…” Brick scans the quad, hoping someone will come to his rescue, but they won’t, because if there’s one thing this campus loves, it’s good old-fashioned drama.

“Yeah, I’m talking to you, bitch.” My strides are stronger and more aggressive as I get closer to his table. “You think you can take my job without my permission?”

I can feel Sebastian’s eyes on me, but I don’t dare turn around and face him.

“Uh…” Brick stumbles out. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

I scoff and try to make it sound like I’m hocking a loogie, but it ends up sounding more like a cough.

“Don’t you lie to me!” I yell, balling my fists like I’m getting ready to swing at the fool.

Clearly, I’m not, but that’s what dudes do. They fight for no damn reason other than to show who has the bigger dick.

Well, here I am, boys. See how big my peen is. Not really, because I don’t have a peen, but that’s the vibe I’m trying to pull off here.

“Where the fuck is Sebastian?” I spin around, knowing good and damn well where he is, but I need him to come into this shot or my plan won’t work. “Sebastian Carrington! Come out and face me, you liar!”

Whispers and awkward coughs sound to my left as the crowd pushes forward and I turn, finally finding my demon douche with eyes as wide as Fenn’s sunglasses.

I crook my finger, yelling across the space between us. “You think you can replace me, bro?”

Even from this far away, I can see a muscle tick in Sebastian’s jaw, which is quite sexy, even when his expression went from disbelief to pure, unadulterated rage with one sentence. But that’s okay. The anger will bring him to me.

“You have nothing to say?” I’m baiting the shit out of him. “I tell you I need a couple months to handle some family business and you think you can enter this competition without me?” I stomp my foot and cringe. “You think you can replace me?” My words are sharp and challenging and that’s all he needs to eat up the space between us and grab my arm, hauling me to him.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

Gah, he really is so predictable.

I push him off and take a step back, pointing to Brick who stares on, confused as to who the hell I am.

“Why am I here?” I spit and grab at my non-existent balls, which sends Sebastian’s ticking jaw into overdrive.

“Don’t do this,” he grits, but it’s too late. I’ve already done it.

“Do what?” I yell for the camera. “Expose you?”

My words are biting, and everything nightmares are made of. Well, Sebastian’s nightmares at least. “I’m just wondering why you hired this asshole,” I point to Brick, “when you knew I was coming back.”

Sebastian shakes his head, and I take a few steps back, closing the space between me and Brick. “You’re a liar and a cheat, but you know what, Brock?” I push at his shoulder and, like the pussy he is, he stumbles. “All the lying and conniving was never going to win Malcolm the competition.”

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