The Boy Band's Manager (The Simple Life)

7

I can't help but feel the air around me is sultry- it caresses and encapsulates me. The silhouettes of people weave around me, their shadows pulsing to the beat of the music, and I am simultaneously invigorated and blinded by the flashing strobe lights. Keeping tabs on the boys has been more difficult than I had hoped it would be. I can barely make out Landon as he laughs, dancing in the middle of a large group of people with a beer in his hand. I roll my eyes. Over the party scene, my ass. The last thing I consider myself to be is judgmental, I've seen too much to view the party scene as a fault, but hypocrisy is another matter. Why pretend to be something that you're not?

Mentally, I begin taking an inventory of where everyone is. Dimitri is accounted for. Grayson and Marisa made their way to a more secluded corner of the room. And Landon has suddenly disappeared from my view.

A hand taps on my shoulder, startling me. "Geez, Landon!" I cry over the music when I turn around and catch sight of the auburn haired band member. "You scared me!"

He grins sheepishly. "Sorry about that. I didn't mean to scare you. I just wanted to see how you were doing and maybe offer you a drink." He holds out a pink fruity drink in a tall glass.

I give a small laugh and hope that my expression doesn't reveal my displeasure at being characterized into a category. A shot of whisky is more my forte. "Unless that's some funky looking coffee, I think I'll pass. I appreciate it, but I can't exactly keep an eye on you guys if I'm tipsy, or at least not very well. Although, out of everyone you're the least I have to worry about."

Landon's eyes twinkle and he grins slightly. "I don't know whether or not I should take that as a compliment. Maybe I should be more of a bother so I get more attention," he says playfully. I almost raise my eyebrows. Landon, flirty? He's definitely a little tipsy.

I decide to play along. "No!" I gasp in mock horror. "You're the only one who helps me keep my sanity. I have enough to deal with with those two. If you went off the deep end I think that would be the end of my career. I would quit right now!"

He suddenly looks slightly uncomfortable and his feet shift side to side. "Well we wouldn't want that. You might not believe me, but we really do need you."

I can feel a slight blush making its way across my face. Of course they need me, but it's nice to be given a compliment every once in a while.

"Anyways," I say, "Why aren't you out there?"

He raises his eyebrows. "To be honest, I couldn't help but notice that you look bored out of your mind right now."

I shrug. He's right. I'd rather be out there with them right now.

"Well, would it be out of line for me to ask if you would like to dance?" He asks hesitantly.

I can't help but be stunned for a moment. That wasn't something that I was expecting. I try to keep my expression calm and not read too much into the situation.

It's just a request for a dance, it shouldn't mean anything else. Yet something holds me back- The last thing I want to do is break down the client, manager barrier. But even as I look up, his slightly tipsy smile makes me want to change my mind. It makes me want to take some time for myself, to choose for myself, and live at least for a moment, the carefree life I could have had.

But just as I make my decision, and the yes is about to make its way across my lips, the remarks from earlier in the evening echo through my mind and I force myself to tear my gaze away from his promising eyes.

"I'm sorry," I say, my eyes focused on the ground. "I can't. But you have fun." I try to keep my expression neutral, and the emotion of disappointment far from it. I am a professional who is on the job. I can't afford to be weak.

When I look up, he is avoiding my gaze. He murmurs something and quickly walks away. I slowly sink into a seat behind me and close my eyes. There's a scene in a movie that I watched once. I laughed when I saw the scene in high school. One of the characters looks insane when she's at the end of her rope muttering "I love my job. I love my job," to herself. I can't help but feel that statement encapsulates how I feel at the moment. I love my job, yet I hate it. I hate how I am forced to act older than my age and put cravings behind me. Yet there's a duality to it, and it's the reason that I won't leave it- I am pretty damn good at my job and there's power and security with that. Security will always trump my crave to live a normal life. Always.