“How about I give you a glowing review on my channel?” Mercury asked.
“You think I give a fuck what stuck-up wankers like you have to say?”
Mercury raised an eyebrow. “Well, something’s got you riled up.”
“I’ll show you riled up, you posh twat.”
In a split second, Grim grabbed the half-drunk glass of red from Mercury’s hand and threw the contents atPoverty.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Mercury yelped.
Grim dropped the glass at Mercury’s feet. Suddenly his leering face transformed into one of devastation. He backed away, his hands up.
“You…you made it clear you didn’t like my art. You didn’t have to ruin it.”
“Wait—”
It was pointless. Grim had reached the entrance to the tunnel. Mercury chased after him. When he got to the exit, a group of people huddled around Grim.
“What’s the matter?” a particularly snide art critic asked.
“That man,” Grim roared, pointing at Mercury. “He’s destroyed my work!”
Suddenly, all eyes were on Mercury.
“I’m calling the police,” someone with a name badge said.
“The police?” Mercury cried. His legs wobbled as he clutched the side of the stupid tunnel of focus.
What am I going to do?
CHAPTER TWO
As he stepped through the doors of Westminster Magistrates’ Court, Mercury kept his head firmly down. The noise of camera shutters and the explosions of flashes greeted his exit.
“Mercury. Are you relieved you dodged prison?”
“Madeline, are you ashamed of your son?”
Mercury’s mother, Madeline Morrison, walked in front of him, leaving Mercury to follow in her wake. She had dressed for the occasion in an exquisite fuchsia pink Diane Von Furstenberg suit, her mane of brown hair left to flow.
Mercury had opted for an ink blue Paul Smithsuit. His solicitor had advised nothing too garish.
The reporters and photographers jostled him as he descended the steps. Thankfully, Madeline had hired a bodyguard to clear them a path to the waiting car. When she’d mentioned it, Mercury had dismissed it as a needless gesture. Now he was glad for the six-foot-five hulk who parted the sea like a modern-day Moses.
He walked as fast as possible through the gap, keeping his mouth shut. He wanted to rail at the unfairness of it all but that would make him look like the entitled brat they had painted him over the last few weeks.
At last, they got to the car and Mercury slumped onto the back seat. Madeline got in the other side.
“Let’s get the fuck out of here,” she said to the driver.
Slowly, the car crawled from the courts.
“Well, that went better than expected,” Madeline said.
“You think?”
“I do and so should you. Did you want to go to prison?”