Page 74 of Paparazzi

“You don’t deserve it,” I reply, irritated.

Thomas gets Dexter out of bed, then makes me lie down again by rolling over me and tucking between my legs. He presses his morning wood against my most sensitive parts, reigniting my lower belly that has barely slept since last night when we relieved our stress as intimately as possible. Afterwards, I slept like a log in his arms. Since the streets around my apartment are still crawling with journalists and fans who don’t show any sign of leaving, when we got in from Connecticut yesterday, he was forced to spend the night, and I didn’t complain.

“Are you sure?” he whispers in my ear as he gently kisses my neck and sends a shiver of pleasure down my body that makes my back arch, seeking more contact.

“When you put it that way, I think I can make an exception,” I reply as I stick a hand in his boxers.

“Uh, no, miss. We have to get up and take a shower, or we’ll be late for the interview.” He chuckles as he gets up and fixes his boxers, giving me a full view of his perfectly sculpted chest, and then heads to the kitchen to make coffee.

I let out a frustrated puff and get up. “You are going to pay for this.” I point my finger at him as I lock myself in the bathroom.

When I get out, Thomas has cooked breakfast, fed Dexter, and brought the dishes to the table. With such a sexy man in the kitchen, I could consider living together. The thought makes me blush.

“What?” Thomas’s eyebrow perks up.

“Nothing, I was just thinking how sexy you are when you’re walking around in my kitchen half-naked...even dressed, actually,” I admit with a chuckle.

Thomas approaches me, kisses me passionately, leaving me breathless, and the taste of coffee on his lip awakens my senses. “You’re damn sexy all the time, even when you sleep.”

I doubt this is true since I snore worse than a train, but I accept his compliment blushing. “Are you ready for the interview?” I ask as I sink my fork into the eggs and enjoy a mouthful of the delicious breakfast he has prepared.

He shrugs and sips his coffee, washing down the piece of toast. “Yes, as much as you can be prepared to tell the world that you’ve been to prison,” he admits honestly.

“Do you want to think about it? I don’t think the others would blame you.”

“No, I need to say it and put my life in order. We’ve had enough years to prove to everyone that we’ve really changed. If anyone has something to say, it’s their problem.”

I really admire him for what he’s doing. I appreciate his strength in facing life so decisively, even though it has brought him to his knees in a brutal way. He got up, healed his scars, and put the pieces back together masterfully. I respect him for that.

“Do you think your sister will talk to you after the interview?” I know this is the most important part for him.

He shrugs as he chews a piece of bacon. “I don’t know. I hope so, but I have no illusions. She decided to cut off all contact with me and stuck to it even after I clearly proved that I had moved beyond it. I don’t think this great gesture of mine will make things any better between us.”

I don’t say anything, but I hope with all my heart that his sister will change her mind because I didn’t meet Thomas when he was a kid, but I know for a fact that the man in front of me is worth reconnecting with. He’s loving, he cares about the people in his life, he’s got his life back on track, and he’s living it to the fullest. There’s nothing about him that would make me give up on bringing him into my kids’ lives, and I hope his sister realizes that.

*

“These are the questions I have prepared. Tell me if you don’t want to answer something or if you want to add more,” I explain as I put the camera on the tripod in the living room of Damian and Lilly’s house, the place they chose for the interview. It is a familiar, welcoming environment where they feel comfortable and can speak freely without being interrupted.

The guys read the questions carefully while Lilly is in the kitchen talking to Evan. This is an aspect of Damian’s life that will also affect her life and career. While the Jailbirds have finished their fourth album under contract, the Red Velvet Curtains have yet to release their first and, if the record label got angry, they could stall forever in getting it out, which would destroy their career. I admire her for never having a doubt about supporting her partner at this challenging time. And to think that at first, no one believed in their relationship, given Damian’s history with women.

Evan is smiling at her, but his rigid posture reveals he’s tense for this interview, although years of working in this industry have led him to mask his feelings well. Right now, his entire career is at stake, along with the Jailbirds. Many of his clients may decide to change managers. In this industry, reputation is everything, and he’s dancing on the razor’s edge with this interview. The way he manages this emergency will determine his future career.

“I think they’re perfect.” Damian catches my attention and makes me look back at the sofa where all four of them are already sitting with their microphones on.

Thomas is studying me curiously. It’s not the first time he’s done it during an interview, but it’s the first time he’s been on the other side of the camera. Now he’s also my boss, since I signed the contract to work with them almost two days ago.

I turn on the camera and motion that we’re ready. They smile at me, and I start with the first question. “You chose Jailbirds as the name of the band. Why?”

Damian takes the lead in an utterly convincing way. He seems almost relaxed, leaning against the back of the sofa in his house, no hesitation in his voice: “The four of us met when we were only sixteen years old, in a juvenile detention center. We all ended up there for crimes that weren’t dangerous but serious enough to land us in jail for a couple of years. We were four scared kids fighting to survive in an environment far from suitable for our young, impressionable minds. We had no hope, no one had confidence in us, and we didn’t know what else to do but get into fights. Prison guards called us ‘jailbirds.’ In prison jargon, they’re the ones without a future, who spend their lives going in and out of prison. We were seen as hopeless and treated as such. Little criminals with no futures, hence the name for the band.”

“But things turned out differently. We’ve all seen it,” I continue with my interview. Ironically, my voice is the least confident.

Thomas takes the floor now, and the intense look he gives me almost makes my legs tremble.

“In prison, a psychologist ran a program which tried to rehabilitate boys with less serious crimes. The four of us were her pet project, proof that kids shouldn’t be thrown away, that there was still hope. She was the only one who believed in us, to see us as more than just thugs. She suggested we form a band and we did, having two hours of practice every day under the supervision of the guards. That’s what saved us those two years. It kept us sane and able to drown out the voices of those who told us we were worth nothing. When we got out of there, we were lost, confused. No one wanted to give us a job, but we had our music. We started playing in the clubs that didn’t require references. Then we met Evan, who believed in us more than anyone and took us all the way to the largest record label in the country.” Thomas’s words enter me as if he’s telling me directly and not the whole world. I have to look down and read the next question to ease the tension a little.

“Did Evan and the record company know about your past?”

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