"I'm what now?"

Harley flicked him a dismissive look. "We have to be their an hour early to prepare for fans outside the station and let the stylists do their job."

"Why do I have to go?"

"Because I said so."

Gabe glared darkly at the drummer. "You don't own me."

Harley stood up and came over to the door where Gabe was standing. "We have an agreement, or did you forget that already?"

"No," Gabe seethed. "I just don't want to be dragged around on a leash by you. I don't see what possible benefit could exist from having me go out with you to things like interviews and whatever else you fucking rockstars get up to."

Harley smirked. "Scared to be seen in public, Gabe?"

Gabe refused to squirm under the rockstar's challenging gaze. He glared back at him with a vicious, "You wish."

"Good, then it's settled. You're coming with me."

"What about the other boys?"

"What about them?"

"Won't they wonder why I'm tagging alone? With you of all people."

"Oh Gabe," Harley said. "Most people rejoice at the chance to be in my presence. You should know this by now."

Gabe scoffed. The drummer was so bipolar. One moment he was tough and brooding, then he was relaxed and open before back to being an egotistical asshole. The switching moods were giving Gabe emotional whiplash.

"When do we leave?" Gabe growled.

Harley bent over and picked up one of the crates, turning back to dump it in Gabe's hands. "The receptionist in the lobby will take care of these. The car will be here by eleven so I expect you to be prompt. I'm-" He eyed Gabe's appearance, "-sure you'll find something more suitable to wear in the meantime."

Gabe wanted to vomit. Car chauffering, receptionists dishing out favors, the way he expected Gabe to dress. Gabe only chose to bite his tongue so he could leave sooner.

"Oh, and Gabe?" Harley called on his way out the door. Without warning, Harley produced an object from his pocket and tossed it to Gabe. The roadie caught it on reflex.

Shiny, sleek and black, the latest model iPhone sat in Gabe's hands. The sheer weight and size had Gabe's stomach twisting at the thought of how much it cost.

"I saw your old phone. You're going to need something more updated to work for me."

"I don't want your charity." Gabe growled, offended. He dropped the phone on the floor. "And I'm not your fucking slave. Don't buy me things."

"It's a phone. Don't take it out of context. Besides, you need to be able to use certain apps from now on. I've put my personal cell in there too. I'm sure I don't need to tell you what will happened if you give it to anyone."

"I'm not stupid, and I'm still not taking it."

"One hour, Gabe. You choose how hard you want to make this on yourself."

The device lay on the floor at Gabe's feet in all its expensive, metallic glory. The sight of it made Gabe want to throw it out a window. Burning with anger, he scooped it up and shoved it into his pocket uncaringly.

"One more thing."

When Gabe turned, Harley said, "You may want to fix that scowl. Not every magazine sells lies."

Gabe slammed the door closed behind him.

Gabe had never been to a radio interview. He barely listened to the radio as it was, let alone stepped inside a building where they were hosted.

The station was exclusive to rock music and had asked Harley to do a segment for this week's piece on youthful rock bands. Gabe was surprised when he got in the car to see it was only Harley, three members of the band's security team and him.

"Where's the rest of the band?" he asked.

Harley gave no response but Pete, Harley's personal security, told Gabe, "It's just him today. The rest of the band wasn't needed."

"But they're a group." Gabe replied with confusion. Pete simply nodded once and looked away.

Gabe stared out the window as the car took them downtown. He didn't understand why Harley had demanded he came with him today but didn't care enough to ask. Instead, he lazily watched the blur of the city pass by, counting the minutes until he would be back in his bunk on the bus that night.

They came to a stop outside a rather large white building where a number of fans were gathered on the curb. They screamed at the sight of the car and Pete exchanged a look with Harley and asked, "Are you ready?"

Harley gave no reply, pushing his dark shades further up his nose and flipped his hood on. Gabe suspected Pete was used to the drummer's cold demeanour.

Pete looked to Gabe. "Have you got a hood?"

Slowly, with a questioning look, Gabe drew his hood up. Pete nodded in approval and said, "There's a small crowd outside. Nothing too big but it can get quite overwhelming. Keep your hood up so you don't get caught by the press. Here-" He reached into his pocket and produced a pair of dark shades. They were identical to Harley's, "-put these on, keep your head down and just keep moving."

Gabe was used to dealing with large crowds. It was part of the job and The Seventh Affliction had a fanbase in the millions. Gabe had dealt with crowds far worse than this but he had never had to deal with his face being in front of cameras.

"You're dressed plainly enough that they won't take notice of you," Pete continued, gesturing to Gabe's black outfit. "Hopefully they'll just think you're another member of security. We don't want your face plastered all over the tabloids."

Initially Gabe hadn't thought about that and it angered him that he'd missed such critical information. He'd wrangled with the best of them when it came to taming crowds but he'd never dealt with the concern of being photographed himself. Standing next to a celebrity like Harley Stone, Gabe could only imagine the lies they would spin to sell a story.

He pulled his hood lower over his face and slipped the sunglasses on. "Let's just get this over with."

Pete signalled to the driver and they pulled up at the curb and got out. The screams amplified as the car door opened and Harley stepped out onto the sidewalk. Two more security members had been seated up the front and together they herded Harley through the crowd with Gabe in tow.

Fans chanted phrases in unison, screaming hysterically as Harley approached them. They reached for him as he passed, jabbing and pushing one another to get even the slightest bit closer to the idol. Gabe scowled as he was pushed around. A sudden jolt from the crowd had a larger man crashing into him and Gabe glared as he shoved him off. Harley had a blank expression on his face and paid them no mind as he passed through.

Eventually they reached the building entrance and the employees in the lobby ushered them in hurriedly, shutting the doors behind them to block out the screaming crowd. An employee attempted to greet Harley but was given was no response in return. The employee gulped as they were lead over to the elevator and taken up to the second floor.

The floor they stepped out on was a brightly-lit hallway with rooms breaking off to each side. The walls were made of glass panels that allowed bypassers to peer inside the small studios. Harley strode down the hall, seemingly knowing where he was headed despite not being told yet. Gabe followed in tow along with Pete and the other two security details.

Just before Harley could reach it, the door at the very end of the hallway was flung open and a man stepped out to greet Harley with a cheerful smile. "Harley!" the man said, "It's great to see you again."

"Nick," Harley nodded, finally providing a greeting. His shades prevented anyone from reading the expression in his eyes so he lowered them slightly. "I see you still work with incompetents."

A number of employees stood dumbfounded behind them, jaws dropped in gaping expression as though they couldn't believe Harley's words. However, they made no move to counteract the rockstar's statement.

The radio host laughed. "You always were the civil one, weren't you? Tell me, what would it take to keep you here a third time?"

"For starters, how about hiring a proper security team who can keep the rabble out of your doorway. You know I don't like my things broken, Nick."

"Broken? Did they hurt you?"

"Not me."

It took everyone in the room but Harley fifteen seconds to realise who he was referring to. With looks of shock and confusion, they slowly turned to face Gabe who glared back.

"Me?" he asked.

Harley didn't spare him another thought as he turned back to the radio host. "They don't touch him again."

Gabe could hardly believe the events occurring before him and he demanded, "What the fuck is your problem? I can handle myself in a crowd."

Harley went to reply but the man beat him to it. As if he hadn't noticed Gabe before, the man appeared to see the roadie for the first time and his jaw slacked, eyes widening in shock as he said, "Harley, you've brought a guest."

The hallway fell silent as the man stared at him, unable to believe his eyes. "I never thought I'd live to see the day." he said, somewhat cheerfully.

"Drop it, Nick." Harley said. It wasn't a question.

It was only when he turned towards Gabe and the others properly that Gabe recognised the man. Nick Galloway, the famous talkshow and radio host that was known for publishing celebrity podcasts and doing exclusives on rockstars. He was one of the best in the industry. Gabe suspected it was because he was willing to pry more than any others were willing to go.

Nick came over to Gabe, offering a hand. "My, it's a pleasure to meet you. Harley never brings guests...well, anywhere. I'm Nick Galloway, radio host to the Stars, and you are?"

Gabe stared at Nick's outstretched hand as though it was something foreign, and the thought of touching it disgusted him.

Nick slowly retracted his hand, laughing it off. "Oh well, I'm glad you're here. I never get to meet any of Harley's-"

"Nick," Harley said, surprisingly dark. "If you want to have any ratings this week now would be a good time to stop playing games."

"Right," Nick clapped happily, grinning as he said, "Come on in then, and Rob?"

The employee who had greeted them before raised his head nervously. Nick smiled at him, "Do make sure the crowd had dispersed before Mr Stone's company leaves. I'd hate to blow the chance for a third interview when I've still got so much snooping to do."

It surprised Gabe how open Nick was about the less-than-impressive details of his job. Actively prying into one's private life was nothing to be proud of. Gabe disliked him immediately.

Without waiting for Nick's direction, Harley strode into the studio with Nick following joyously. Gabe rolled his eyes at the drummer's arrogance and side-stepped Pete to follow in tow.

Upon first glance, it was clear the studio they were in was the biggest on the floor, perhaps the whole building. Lush with purple-painted walls and blue plush sofas, a large desk sat in the centre of the room that was equipped with state-of-the-art recording equipment. Expensive art lined the walls and a small sitting area was home to several magazines laid out across the coffee table.

The studio was much larger then Gabe was expecting but he wasn't impressed. Mainly because the superficial show-pony act Nick was parading wasn't the least bit convincing nor impressive to someone who grew up in the slums, and because everything about the man and his taste broadcasted egotism. Gabe wasn't sure whether to vomit at the sight of the enormous gold-plated microphone in the corner or smash it.

Nick pranced over to his desk and took a seat in the large chair behind it. Harley, who had done numerous interviews before, simply sat down on the other side and adjusted his headphones once they were on.

"Right, let's get down to business shall we." Nick grinned. "It's real simple. A quick Q&A about the album and then we'll get into the nitty gritty details of your glorious rockstar life."

Nick wiggled his eyebrows at Harley, the latter of which remaining emotionally unresponsive. The lack of engagement didn't sway the radio host and he all but laughed as he put his headphones on.

Pete and the other two members of the band's security opted to sit down on the sofas behind them but Gabe chose to remain standing. He leaned against the wall with an unimpressed look and glared in the general vicinity of the desk.

Nick looked up and noticed him a second time. His gaze flicked back and forth between Gabe and Harley as he asked the latter, "I'm confused here, Harley. Is he part of your security or-"

"His relation to me is none of your business, Nick." Harley replied with easy callous. "That's not why I'm here."

Nick nodded, his signature grin breaking out across his face once more. "Of course, yes. We'll get to all that later. Right now, let's focus on you."

Gabe wondered if all the smiling would eventually break the radio host's face and basked in the sick satisfaction at the thought of it doing so.

When Harley's microphone had been checked and they'd been cleared to begin, Nick laughed. "I suppose I don't need to tell you how this goes. You've been here enough times to get how this works. Although, you've never brought anyone with you. Perhaps we could-"

Without a word, Harley reached over the desk and pressed a button to cut Nick's rambling off. A small buzzer sounded somewhere overhead and a glowing red sign announced they were now on the air. Nick was startled at the sudden interruption of being forced to go live but he recovered in record, professional time. Opening his mouth, he began the introduction and the segment kicked off.