Dandelion

Two

Greyson gripped his phone tightly as he listened to the mouthy manager on the other end of the line. Two months. Two whole fucking months and nothing had been done about the crap on the media.

"So, you and everyone else expect me to give an apology for something I didn't even fucking do? How in the hell does that make sense?" Greyson bit out, it was taking every ounce of his being not to shout.

"She's claiming it did, it would look better on you in the end to apologize for the in-"

"If you say indiscretion one more damn time, Leon, I will reach through this fucking phone and rip your tongue out. What about the P.I. you hired to look into this, is he even doing anything? This was supposed to be resolved two months ago. I didn't sleep with Carrie May and both her and Madson know it because he would be here beating the shit out of me if anything did happen. Everyone knows how obsessed he is with his wife. Someone is paying them off. I want answers," Greyson tried to reign in his anger, but it was getting harder and harder every day that passed with this hanging over him.

"Look, you're tour just ended. How about we take this time to resolve this issue cordially. Why don't you take that vacation to... what is that place called again? Elby?"

"Elba," Greyson sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose. A dull ache throbbed behind his eyes at this entire conversation with his idiot manager. Why did Greyson ever hire the fool to begin with?

"Yea, sure. Take that time, go to your hometown and I will look into what the P.I. has found. But if it isn't what you want to hear, or Carrie doesn't recant what she says... you need to consider the apology. Okay?"

Greyson hung up the phone without saying another word. He tossed it on the small table as the tour bus shook slightly from the thunderstorm outside. Going home to Elba would be nice. He missed his family, and they were about the only people left around that would believe him.

"Leon still suggesting you apologize?" Quinton spoke up from across the table without looking up from his book.

"Yep," Greyson mumbled as he crossed his arms across his chest.

"You going to?"

Greyson cocked and eyebrow as he gazed at the security guard with a ridiculous look. Though it did nothing, Quinton just kept his eyes on the little red book. Hell no he wasn't apologizing. One way or another, Greyson was going to get the answers he deserved. Someone was setting him up and Leon obviously wasn't going to do a damn thing about it.

"That P.I. Leon hired. Do you know anything about him?"

"Not really. I've honestly never even heard of Jason Frames 'Framed or Not'. That is until just two months ago, why?" Quinton looked up and set his book down as he leaned forward, now, clearly interested.

"Do you mind looking into the dude. Something's just off to me, this all should've been cleared up by now, but instead Leon keeps pushing me to pretty much admit I slept with Carrie when I sure as shit didn't," Greyson said as he used his hands to make his point more clear.

"Sure thing, Grey," Quinton nodded as he stood up and walked to the back of the bus with the rest of the band. Greyson leaned forward, resting his arms on the table as the bus shook again. The tour was over, and he was absolutely exhausted. His mind couldn't stop swirling around the fact that someone was literally out to ruin his career and he had no clue as to who or why. His band was pissed at him, his driver (who was also his best friend) wasn't speaking to him, and Quinton was just Quinton. Did whatever he was told, whenever he was told. These last couple of months had been hell on the bus, and they were all out of whack. No one seemed to believe Greyson, even though he had never slept with Carrie. Sure, he had slept with many women, shit, they all did. However, he never slept with a married woman, he had some morals. Greyson moved out of the small booth and wobbled to the front of the bus and sat in the seat next to Myrick.