Bad For Business | Maphinz

∘16∘

「✧∘S∘✧」

Back in Los Angeles, our endless cycle continued as usual. The first day back, you guessed it. Back in rehearsals. Yay...
Something was up with Grant, though. He wasn't his usual self. Okay, yes, he was usually strict and tough with us, but today, he was more... tense. There was a tension that came from this that we all felt but refused to comment on, but it could be seen in how he flinched at every detail when we ran the dance or his unwavering, tense shoulders. He made us run our songs to death until the backing track was ringing through my brain. I assumed it was because he wasn't happy with how we performed the other day, even though I saw no critical flaws in our performance. By the end, we were all begging for a water break, and thank god he eventually gave us one.

We lay on the floor in intense silence despite the communal heavy breathing. I was personally chugging water, but in the corner, I saw Megan talking to Grant. Whatever, I am way too tired to figure that out right now. All was well if you didn't include the fact that I felt as though I needed an inhaler until, eventually, a click was heard at the studio door; in came Matthew with his head down, but you could still see the bandage covering his bruised and bloody nose.

"What do you think you're doing in my studio after what you pulled at K-con?" Grant asked without so much as flinching from his position, looking toward the wall. He then looked over his shoulder straight through Matthew's eyes with a hawk's gaze. All of us girls sat up on the floor from his sudden yell. I mean, it was usual for him to yell, but not like this.

"I didn't tell him what happened. Did you tell him what happened?" The girls and I whispered to one another as we watched from the floor.

"Grant, what are you talking about? I would never do something to sabotage the girls. I would never threaten their performance over some crush." Matthew scoffed, seeming insulted. He was trying to be some Nate Jacobs-level gas lighter... poorly at that.

"I never said what you did, Matthew. I just said I knew what you did do, and I sure as hell never mentioned any crushes. So that's a fucking lie," Grant stated flatly as he fully turned to face Matthew head-on. 
"You didn't genuinely think I wouldn't catch wind of what happened backstage, did you? You have put these girls through living hell All because your fragile alpha male ego couldn't fucking handle rejection from a girl 7 years younger than you. But no, you couldn't handle just wreaking them. You had to try and ruin me, too." Grant shouted from the other side of the dance studio. The girls and I took a step back from the situation to let Matthew have this. Megan stared at the floor. None of us but her knew what he was talking about. 

"And I tried to be good to you, Matthew. I actually really liked you at first. I saw a nice, attractive man around my age with a good future." His voice broke as he spoke about this, breaking my heart with every word. He liked him...
"Then, one day in my fucking studio, you disrespect me for the first of many times. Yelling in my face about things neither of us could control and doing... disgusting things to me." What has he done...

"And after I saw the real you, I never wanted to see that man again. Even after all that, act like you're some perfect guy with perfectly white veneers and a badly healed hair transplant. You treat everyone horribly. I tried to be the buffer or protection that these girls needed from you, so they didn't have to endure the suffering that came with what you did. We were both older men with slight executive power over them, and you used it to try and destroy these extremely talented artists who have worked for years to get to this point. Some more damaged than others."

Grant stared at Megan... why Megan?

As Grant walked closer and closer to Matthew, it was apparent what he was doing. He backed the taller man into a corner painstakingly slowly; his sharp words cut through all of Matthews's possible defences, leaving him as the raw, cruel being he was. Stripped to his core, he couldn't help but go along with Grant's actions as a stuttering and muttering mess.