Star Signs ✮ Malum

Award Shows Suck

I'd decided that it'd be nicer to wad into the whole flower child persona little by little rather than just jumping into it.

"Could you move out of the shot?" The interviewer asks a bit rudely once I'm within four feet of them.

Michael's quick to cut in before some snarky reply tumbles off my tongue, "He's a good friend of mine, I'd prefer if you talked to him in a respectful tone."

She looks a little shocked, stuttering out a quick apology before kindly asking me to stand next to the cameraman while she interviewed Michael.

"I'm here live on the red carpet here in LA, joining me is the main actor from A Thousand Miles, Michael Clifford. Could you give us a little insight on the upcoming film?" She asks, directing her large microphone toward Michael.

"There's not much to say, the premier is in a month or so and I'm pretty sure my co-star, over here, could tell you more." Michael mumbled curtly, gesturing to me lazily. The cameraman spun awkwardly and stuck the camera in my face.

I didn't know what to do but I kind of just tried to give the camera a cute smile and gave a little salute. The man handling the camera turned back to Michael right after.

"Also I'm shirtless for most of the film." Michael added cheekily, giving an over exaggerated wink to the interviewer.

"You're also here for the Best Action Hero Award for your role as Mike-Ro-Wave in Stop, is that correct?" She presses, obviously sensing that Michael is ready to leave.

"Yes I am, hopefully I'll be able to take home the Leo but if not, it's whatever." He replies with a shrug like its no big deal whether or not he wins.

"Sources say you've been casted for yet another film, care to elaborate?" She asks, speedily just as Michael was about to walk out of shot.

"Yeah, can't seem to catch a break. I can't go into detail about the film but Manavi is in it." He said, tone sounding slightly clipped.

Manavi Gee is a super talented actress, and my eyes widened a little at the mention of her name. She was big. Actress and comedian from central India.

"Now if you don't mind, Calum was telling me before you called me over that he really needed to pee, excuse us." He bid farewell to the interviewer and put a claw-like grip on my shoulder to keep me from revealing my confusion.

"I don't need to pee, but if you want to help out I'm cool with that." I joke, falling into step with him.

"You're a nerd." He giggled, covering it up with a loud cough as he looked around to see if anyone heard.

"Hey, yo Cliffo!" Another interviewer shouted before we could reach the door that lead from the red carpet to the auditorium where the award show was held.

Michael spun around immediately nearly bumping into me in the process.

"Ace!" Michael yelled back, striding over to the man swiftly. I had no choice but to follow him.

"Who's the kid?" This 'Ace' guy asked, thick Brooklyn accent present as he gestured toward me.

"This?" Michael asks, jabbing a thumb in my direction as a look of disbelief crossed his face. "This here is the Calum Hood. He's about to become a legend. How come you've never heard of him?"

Ace squinted his eyes at Michael, "Don't lie to me."

Michael raised his hands in surrender, "I'm no liar."

"So Calum Hood, where have you been hiding?" He asks, turning to me.

I shrug unsurely, "I've been... doing things with Mikey." I crumple the hem of my sweater a little as I hear Michael choke.

I widen my eyes a fraction and bat my lashes a little, Ace nearly dropped his microphone.

"Like he showed me around the studio n'stuff." I explained quickly, allowing false excitement seep into my voice. I grinned, shifting from the balls of my feet to my toes repeatedly.

Ace leaned toward Michael whispering something along the lines of, "He's so innocent, I want to lock him in a room to keep the world from tarnishing him and his lil' daisy chains."

I blink once, giving Michael a small smile. "Mikey, I need to use the bathroom. Can you help me?"

Ace looked slightly horrified at how unaware I appeared to be about that request.

"What'cha lookin' at? I need to pee, and I don't know where the washrooms are." I say, tugging on the sleeve of Michael's black leather jacket like a small child.

"C'mon, I really need to go!" I whine, stressing the fact that I actually needed to take a piss.

Michael finally seems to get the message.

"You heard the Cupcake, he's got some business to take care of. I'm seeing you next week, right?" He asks hurriedly, placing a hand on my wrist to prevent me from continuing my assault on his jacket.

"Yeah, bring Powder Puff if y'want, he's always welcome." Ace chuckled, shaking his head amiably before walking off toward a group of prestigiously dressed actresses.

"Hurry up, I'm about to piss my fucking pants!" I hiss, dropping the flower child act as soon as Ace was out of earshot.

"Calm down Princess, we're almost there." He says in a soothing voice, petting my hair and cooing like I'm some kind of animal.

"Princess?" I ask in disbelief, "If anyone here is a princess, it's you. Tiaras are your kind of thing. I prefer a little old school rock n roll."

Michael snorted, "Whatever you say, Cal."

>< >< >< ><

"My balls are itchy." I whine, shifting in my cushioned seat awkwardly.

"Thanks for sharing." Michael whispers sarcastically, scrunching his nose at me.

"I can more than just share... if you're into that kind of scene." I whisper back, giving him a quick wink before returning my attention to the people on stage.

"Man, they are really itchy." I add quietly, quickly being shushed by Michael.

It's quiet between the two of us for a while as we watch people getting Leo's and clap when everyone else does.

Maybe five minutes pass before I get fidgety.

"Michael? Have I ever told you how much award shows suck?" I ask, trying to suppress a yawn as they announce the winner of Best Supporting Actress.

"No."

"Well award shows suck. Like, they suck major dick." I add.

"Shut up."

"Okay, think of the best paid p*rnstar." I begin to elaborate.

"Cal, I'm serious. Shut up."

"Right, now triple the amount of dicks they've sucked and that doesn't even add up to the amount of dicks this award show sucks." I conclude, nodding a little to reassure myself that I've gotten my point across.

"Wow, that's a whole lot of dick sucking." Michael sighs, letting out a low whistle.

"I know."

••••••

Basically, Michael snagged the Leo that he was nominated for easily and he squealed, I quickly squealed a little bit louder to cover his momentary break in character. He took his time walking up to the microphone and gave a really sucky speech but then made up for it by telling them a joke about grass. More specifically, my joke about grass.

"Hey, Michael." I called, gaining his attention almost immediately.

"Yeah?" He asked, giving me his full, undivided attention.

"What do you call a Fly without wings?" I ask, biting my lip to prevent myself from laughing already.

He shakes his head, moving his eyes back to the car's window.

"A Walk."

The car is suddenly filled with Michael's overly loud groan.

Nailed it.