Never Love an Archor

Chapter 1: The Endless Beginning

The famous, British song-artist Emmett Barthwix, what a pain in my ass. For 4 years now I have been part of the crew that records his music. Don't get me wrong, his songs are heart stoppers they never fail to bring me to almost tears. But he's a very indecisive person, a lonely person, at that. He always picks someone from our 3 person crew to come with him to fancy events or interviews (Late Night Talk Shows and such). 

Normally, he takes Maddi or Gus, but tonight he has chosen me. It was a day I dreaded but the other two were busy. He bought me a suit for the night and it fit perfectly, it felt nice but odd. Sitting next to him I just knew he hated these things. It was a Late Night Talk Show, made for jokes and making people laugh, something Emmett isn't very good at, British prick. He was a nice guy, but in trying not to make out jobs hard, he makes it harder.

The car stops outside the building just where we could see the line of people waiting to go in; just in my peripheral vision I see him sink in his seat with a look of despair. He was nervous, the other warned me about how nervous he got during these events. 

"Are you ready to go, Brady?" He asked, his stupid accent coming through perfectly. I rolled my eyes. 

"Yes, but not on a first name basis. Let's get this over with." I said as I opened my door and stepped out of the car. I half heard him say, "Right, Hues." His tone sounded sheepish. Even after knowing him for 4 years it's still hard to tell if he's just humbling himself or that's just his personality. 

We walked into the building from the back door. Back stage was all stage crew running around trying to get everything ready. Emmett was quickly grabbed and dragged off, I tried to keep up with him but I lost him. 

"Emmett??" I nearly yelled trying to get through people. That bastard, I can't believe he just left me. Anyway, I was running around until i spotted him trying to wave me over, as he is being ushered along very quickly, he looked panicked. I ran over and kept pace with them. We were ushered onto stage and the show began. 

Three hours this thing lasted. The host and other celebrities that showed up seemed to just be there to bash him and make him feel bad about his music and of course, he laughed with them. I dragged him by the arm back to the entrance we came from, it was late, I wanted to go home, and out of this suit. I felt him stumble a bit behind me, I didn't care I wanted to leave, I did not sign up for this. I honestly don't know what I was more upset about the fact they started picking on me as well or the fact he didn't stand up for himself but shut them down if they said anything about me. 

We got outside and I finally let go of him and he stumbled forward and gripped his chest. 

"Brady-" 

(POV change)

"Right, sorry, again don't call me by my first name. I want to go home now, I did not sign up for that." Brady whipped around to look at him which made Emmett flinch away from him. He took a step back and held his wrist where he was being held. 

"I'm sorry, I will not force you to come to something like this again, my deepest apologizes. It is deeply appreciated though," Emmett said, but didn't dare meet his eyes. Hues felt a pang of guilt when he watched this, "Oh and, here." He dug into his pocket inside of his coat and handed him an envelope. Brady just sighed then put it into his own jacket pocket. The black car pulled up in front of them and Emmett opened the door for Hues, who got in without another word. The whole ride was quiet, comfortably for Brady but as for Emmi it was suffocating. Brady got out at his home and gave nothing more than a quick raise of hand before walking off. 

Emmitt got home about 30 minutes later, he gave his driver a decent tip before walking into the house and up to his room. He stripped down to his boxers and put on a very large T-shirt, he had to admit clothes have gotten much more comfortable over the centuries. He looked around and found ibuprofen and took two, dry, before laying down. He stared at the ceiling of his home and for a moment there was silence, then he let out a soft sob. And he cried, and cried. 

He cried all night, tomorrow would be another day, perhaps he could make it up to Brady, for making him uncomfortable. 

Yes, tomorrow he would make it up to him. He fell asleep as he came up with a plan to make it up to him.