Page 62 of For the Fans
He must be really drunk…
“Terms…” I repeat the word, ambling over and taking a hesitant seat next to him on the couch, making sure to leave a few feet between us. Still, he scoots away from me, but I grab his arm to stop him. “Don’t crush my cat.”
His face slopes to where Robin is taking up and entire couch cushion, licking herself.
“First off, we split everything fifty-fifty,” he says, watching her for a moment, before peering at me. “No greedy bitch skimming off the top.”
I roll my eyes. “Fine, but you need to help with the marketing. I’m not gonna do all the heavy lifting while you sit back and reap the benefits.”
He scoffs. “Trust me, this won’t be fuckingeasy.” His eyes scan me for a split second.
I squint at him. “Why are you acting like you’re doing me some huge favor by even considering this??”
“Uh, because I am,” he grunts.
“No, we’llbothbe doing something we don’t want to do, and we’llbothbe making bank doing it. Even fucking playing field, asshole.”
“Fine, whatever.” He leans back, covering his face with his hands.
“Which brings me us to our next term,” I go on. “No arguing. We can’t spend this whole experience bickering at each other, or it’ll never work. It’s abusiness, that’s what Frankie told me, and she’s right. If we just look at it like a job, and stay professional, it’ll be a little easier to get through it.”
His hands slip away, and he peeks at me, giving me a look as if he agrees, but he doesn’t want to give me the satisfaction. He just nods and mumbles, “Next term… No oneeverfinds out about this. That’s the most important one.”
“Agreed.”
“No, I’m serious, Avi.” His tone has taken on an almost desperate, pleading lilt as he faces me. “If this got out, the money doesn’t fucking matter anymore. I’d be kicked off the football team. Not to mention, if my dad ever found out…”
His words fade into him shaking his head and he stares down at his hands. Suddenly, he’s all nervous and fidgety, and I can’t help but watch him, wondering once more why he’s so uptight.
I know his relationship with his father isn’t a good one… Tom doesn’t seem to give much of a fuck about Kyran outside of his grades and football, which is a huge bummer. I can’t evenimagine having that kind of shitty relationship with my mom. She’s my number one supporter, no matter what kinds of dumb shit I do.
If she found out about the OnlyFans, I know she’d be pissed, but she wouldn’t freak out ordisownme. She might even laugh about it, though she’d pretend it wasn’t funny.
But Kyran is different. He’s wound so tightly, always worrying about how his father sees him, howeveryonesees him.I wonder where it stems from…
He flips his hands over, staring at his palms in silence. It’s an odd thing to do, but maybe he’s just drunk.
“No one will find out,” I say quietly, and his eyes jump to mine. “I swear. This is just about the money, that’s it. We’ll make sure it stays a secret.”
He nods, clearing his throat as all vulnerability vanishes. In one eye-blink, he’s back to scowling and hostile, glaring at me as he says, “Final term… No touching.”
I laugh out loud, and his eyes narrow. “Okay, you don’t seem to understand how this works. These dudes arenotgonna pay all this money for us to just sit side by side.”
“I don’t fucking care. That’s what they’re gonna get,” he grunts stubbornly.
“You’re being unreasonable,” I scoff, and he straightens.
“I’m not fuckinggay, Avi.”
“Yea, I think we already established that.” I pinch the bridge of my nose. “But we have to at leastactlike we’re into it, or this will all be for nothing… We don’t have a choice. We have to sell it. For the fans.”
Puffing out an unamused chuckle, he shakes his head, grabbing the bottle from me. He takes a long pull, gurgling over the disgustingly sweet cinnamon flavor. “I don’t know if I can…”
“You won’t know if you don’t try.” I shrug.
He peers at me. “Well, what do you suggest? What do thesefansof yours even want?”
My mind sifts through the insane filth they’ve been messaging me all week. “I think we’d need to start small…”
