Page 26 of Thick as Thieves
“Sign that pony up, Tim,” I tell him, grinning at them all.
“When you say the label wants headlines,” jumps in Marcus, calmly “who at the label are we talking about?” He sits back, waiting for them to fall into his trap. He’s steaming already, I can see it, but Nev and Co won’t. Not yet.
“Candy in the PR department,” states Debs confidently.
“So Candy’s in charge, is she?” I ask Nev. “Were you in the meetings about the band's strategy?” I ask him and he nods.
“So in that meeting,” Marcus lasers in on Debs and Nev, his voice glacial, “did they tell you to drug my son up and film him?”
They both look at James. “We haven’t done that to James,” Deb says, as if that makes it alright.
“I wasn’t talking about that son, I’m talking about Bucky.” They look around at each other, confused now. “Yes,” Marcus snarls, dropping all pretence now. “He is my son, both of them are, so you better get onto ‘the label’ and sort it now. At no point in any conversation was it decided they would be packaged as a bad boy band, they don’t fucking need it. So stop with the manufacturing of shit.”
“If Cameron’s not up to this, we need a new manager,” Evie adds. “One who can be here and work with these boys. Otherwise you’re in breach of contract, and I will sue, loudly, for coercion, and anything else I can think of.” She looks directly at Nev, who’s starting to wilt.
Tim looks at us, and we shrug. “She can, Tim. They can,” I confirm.
“Who are you reporting to, Nev?” Tim asks. “Candy, and I assume Brian.”
“Is Brian the one we had issues with ‘Vanity’ about not being right?” I ask Tim. When he nods, I stand up and raise my voice. “Get him the fuck out, then. We don’t want people who are happy to exploit on the regular and badge it as ‘the label’.”
I see the penny dropping for Nev, about who is ultimately in charge here.
“You should be watching out for all the boys, not just James,” Evie seethes. “They’re a band, not just Marcus’s sons. There should be no distinction.” She’s holding onto Nicci, a mother hen in all her protective glory. “Nicci, if you can’t get off the shit, you’re going to rehab,” she says.
He gulps. “I’ll stop, Momma G, I swear.”
“Finton, put the drink down. I am not fielding calls from your mother.”
“Yes Momma G,” Fin agrees and nods.
“Bucky.” He nods at her and James blows her a kiss. She raises her brows at him before turning on the sufficiently cowed label reps. “Nev, if you don’t agree with the strategy, you can go home. Same for you Debs. No hard feelings, but my boys’”—and she gestures to all of them—“welfare is the most important thing, not sales numbers.”
She stands and says to Marcus and me. “Look after my sons, I’m off to feed the other two,” and she leaves.
I’m still standing and make sure to make eye contact with each of them before I say, “I think that just about covers it. Are we clear Nev, Debs?” They both nod. “Any issues, speak to James. Tim, anything else from you?”
“No, but Nev, if you’re asked to do something that has not been discussed in a meeting with the band, let me know.” Nev nods, grateful to still have a job at this point.
I can feel Debs is fuming. She can’t keep it in. “I don’t actually see how what we did was wrong. The numbers are up, mainly due to all the antics I manufactured.” She’s practically preening, expecting us to be fucking grateful.
Marcus pins her with a glare that could freeze the coals in a sauna. “Did we ask you to do that?”
Debs really thinks she’s in charge. “With respect, Marcus, you are in a band, not a manager or label person.”
I look over and smirk at Tim. Debs is about to really step in it, and I am here for the show.
“Really, Debs,” Marcus drawls, his voice deceptively calm. Lord Stockton, growling out with the polite veneer only just containing his anger. “Well just so you know, I have a lot of sway, and I can safely say this is your last working day. Get your shit together and we’ll sort you a ride home. My sons are not for sale at any price, and it was not your antics that moved the numbers. The sales are from before the tour in South America. It was from the UK and Europe, which I believe is before you came on board.”
“You can’t do that,” she spits out.
“I can and I have. Now, get out. I won’t stand for exploitation. You should have said no, not put young lads in situations they can hardly handle and then fucking film them.” He stands and looks at her in full-on Daddy mode. “Get your stuff together, you'll be on a plane within the hour.”
Mick and Zak walk in and gesture to the door. Debs's eyes go wide, as the penny finally drops as to who is making the decisions. Hanging her head in defeat, she plods towards them.
The boys all get a group hug going, reassuring each other that they’ve got each other’s backs. “We got a show to do tonight, let’s go do it,” James says.
As they all file out, James breaks off and comes and shakes Tim’s hand. But Tim pulls him in for a bro hug. “Asked finance about the numbers,” Tim says to him, grinning.
