That was part of the reason why he and Jamie never got along. It was always Jamie bringing back beer, cigarettes, weed, and starting fights on the street. He never learned to keep his mouth shut, but it was part of his charm. Management and the Execs never had a problem with it since it sold more albums. The media loved to poke fun at his bad-boyish ways, almost egging it on because the young girls would love him so much more for it.

They only had a problem with it when he started using his smart mouth on them. And by the time they tried to cover their asses, he’d gone rogue. There was no saving him after that. The media had gone from loving him to hating him in a week.

A flashy red sports car was waiting for them after they landed.

Jamie whistled. “How many cocks did you suck to get this?”

Marshall glowered over the top of the car in question at him. “Can you not be so vulgar?”

Jamie flashed him his full set of teeth. He was quite proud of how white they were with how much he smoked. “Bite me, bitch.”

Marshall clenched his jaw. “Get in the damn car.”

Jamie was happy to end the conversation. Though, it was fun to rile Marshall up. It reminded him of the old days. Even if pain came with the territory.

He threw his bag in the back and then reached for the radio.

“Ah-ah.” Marshall batted his hand away. “My car. My radio. Sit back and enjoy my fine selection.”

Marshall’s fine selection was a bunch of pop music that made Jamie want to shove his head in the engine. As the long playlist droned on, he looked out the window.

LA. He didn’t understand why anyone would want to live in this shit hole. It was full of pricks that thought they were worth something. And it was always so goddamned hot.

The sites were okay at least. As long as there was a window between him and the buildings he didn’t really care. The only thing he couldn’t stand was how long they had to wait in traffic. Tulsa was bad, but this was just pushing it.

It was one of the things he missed about living with his mom in Kansas. In the lower part of the state, traffic wasn’t even a word.

He fell asleep while they waited at one stop light. When he woke up, they were parked outside a hotel. Fancy. He wondered how much Marshall had dished out on his behalf this place. Probably more than he could afford at the moment.

The sun was just setting. It cast a pink and purple hue over the tall buildings. He waited for Marshall to get out of the car before he grabbed his one bag. His fingers twitched, meaning he needed to hit another high if he wanted to go back to sleep. Once he got riled up, there wasn’t much he could do to come back down except take another hit of something.

Marshall already had the key to the hotel and showed Jamie the way up.

They were at the hotel door when he finally got fed up. The drugs were wearing off. That was bad for others around him.

“Are you going to fuck off or do I have to invite you in?”

Marshall unlocked the door and pushed it open. He gave Jamie an unamused to look.

“It wasn’t my idea, Jamie.”

He wasn’t talking about the hotel. He was talking about the meeting.

“Yeah,” Jamie said as he walked through the doorway. “I know.”

The inside of the hotel was nice than the outside. There were two plush white couches facing a large mounted flat-screen TV. Glass side tables made the room feel larger than it was. Two large mirrors faced the open floor kitchen beside the living room. There was a sliding glass door that led to a decent sized balcony made of white cement.

It was all Marshall’s style. Clean, dripping with money, and a smack in Jamie’s face.

“Grant called me yesterday.”

“He did?”

He tossed his bag onto the white couch. Marshall grimaced.

“Told me I was getting a call from management.” He stepped up onto the platform separating the kitchen from the living room. There was a breakfast bar with very classy white wood stools. He sat on one of them and swirled to face Marshall. He leaned onto his elbow. “He also said it was Sam who called the meeting.”

There was a look that he couldn’t read that flashed over Marshall’s face. It was gone in a second.

“I don’t know,” he said while shrugging. “Haven’t spoken to Grant for a while.”

“What about Sam?”

Marshall turned away. Jamie narrowed his eyes at his back. That’s what he thought.

Marshall and Sam weren’t the closest with each other, but they were the closest out of the four them over the years. Grant had called Jamie out of respect because Grant had always looked up at Jamie like an older brother. He hated pissing anyone off especially Jamie. Sam and Marshall didn’t have anything like that. Grant hadn’t called for six months.

He wondered how often Sam and Marshall spoke to each other.

Marshall sat on the couch. “Listen, Jamie. I know this is going to be difficult for you—“

“Oh, cut the bullshit.” Jamie glared over at him. “We both know very well that you don’t give a shit how I feel.”

Marshall looked down at his hands. “This is hard on all of us.”

His voice was shaking.

Jamie rolled his eyes.

None of them knew how hard anything was. They had money; they had fame. He was the one that got locked up for two years and stripped of everything he had. And Heath…

He took a sharp breath.