Page 13 of Sing for Me
"But you must have your fans' interests in mind..."
I look to the camera with a smile and run my hand through my wavy hair. "I put what I feel on paper, then Drew, Pete, and Tom help me turn those words into sound. That's what our fans want."
"Would you write a love song?"
Damn, he's green. It's difficult keeping a straight face here. "I don't plan out what I'm going to write."
"But on the first Sinful Serenade E.P.—"
"Those songs weren't about love."
Confusion spreads over his face. Okay, I'm a bad interview at the moment. I can feel Tom's glare.
Alright, Tom, message received.
Attention offstage is the price I pay for attention onstage. It didn't used to bother me. Not when I...
Well, I don't have time to get intothat.
I shoot the camera a panty-melting look. "I write a song when there's something stuck in my head that won't get out."
The guy finally gets it. He leans back with a smile. "How does it feel, your video hitting number one?"
"Feels like a lot of women are dying to see me naked."
"And your song sticking in the top 40 for weeks?"
"Feels like a lot of women want to hear me moaning."
The guy nods. "This album has been getting great reviews. How do you feel, everyone claiming that Sinful Serenade is the next big thing?"
More bullshit. But I have a job to do here. At least this is true. "We want to make music, period. We're always going to be there, playing, whether the crowd is ten people or ten thousand."
The guy nods, happy with the footage. "Thank you so much for coming in Miles. It's been great talking to you."
He's not selling that story. I shake his hand anyway.
The director calls cut. I shift off my stool, and move away from the bright lights pointed at my eyes.
There isn't much room in this tiny studio. The director and the journalist are on one side of the room, checking the footage on their digital video camera.
Tom is standing in the other, shooting me the evil eye. His dirty blond hair falls over his green eyes as he shakes his head. "Fuck, Miles. I thought you mademylife difficult."
"I showed up, didn't I?"
He looks toward the director, then his gaze comes back to me. "Women hear you groaning about all that pain in your soul, and they fall in love with the idea of fixing the broken bad boy."
"And?"
"Give them more to use. They'll fucking enjoy it."
"I'm not talking about that."
He shoots me anobviously not thatlook.
"I'm not bullshitting our fans."
"Yeah, it's bullshit? You don't write those miserable songs because there's too much pain in your soul?" He mimes tearing his heart out of his chest. "You don't stay up at night, staring out the tourbus window, wondering if some girl will ever see into your soul?"
