The Publicity Stunt - Ryden

Chapter 3: assholes with cameras

"I think people are compelled to listen to us because we are something they've never really heard before. We aren't like the old 70s rock bands or the new pop singers. We kind of pull together a variation of everything to form a sound we like. I think the way we make music is very diverse because we are all so different and like the sounds of different things." Spencer, our drummer said to the blonde interviewing us. He was the best spoken out of the band, so it was normal for him to take over interviews, even though the reporter usually seemed more interested in what Pete had to say. Spencer's answers were always the ones that made the articles though. Thank god for that.

Our bassist Dallon and I were pretty soft spoken people, but even he was way more talkative than I was. I didn't say a word during this interview, but somehow the questions were always asked to me, and I would usually just shrug them off. One day that would make me seem like an asshole, but I didn't care.

One question, however, caught me off guard. "So Ryan, are you excited to be on the cover of OUT magazine with your boyfriend?"

I wasn't aware I was going to be on the cover of any magazine. I also wasn't aware that I had a boyfriend. I looked over at our manager Sarah and raised a brow at her, but she stared down at her phone and kept moving her thumbs against the keys, obviously more worried about something else.

"I'm sorry..." I began, looking back at the reporter with furrowed brows. "I uh... I don't know what you're talking about." I smile shyly at her and she scratches the back of her neck, looking down at her notes then up to Sarah who perked up to answer for me.

"He's very excited. It will be his first shoot with his boyfriend Brendon Urie. You're excited right?" She glares at me and I glare back.

"Brendon Urie. Are you fucking kidding me?" I ask her in a low voice and if looks could kill she would have dropped dead then and there. Pete let out a chuckle but I quickly hit his arm, shutting him the fuck up.

Sarah nodded at me and walked over to my side, holding up her phone so I could see. On the tiny screen there was a picture of me and Brendon, his hand on my thigh and his lips against my neck. Moments before I threw up. She leans down and whispers into my ear. "You either say he's your boyfriend or you'll be having to explain why Americas sweetheart was drunk off his ass, hooking up with a guy in the corner of the hottest bar in town. Do you really want that to be your image?" And I could care less what image I had, but I knew we already had a drinker in the band, we didn't need another one. The kids had to look up to one of us.

So I turned to the reporter and flashed her a winning smile before letting out "I'm thrilled to be on the cover with Brendon. It'll be nice to see him in his natural habitat."

"So you and Brendon are in fact dating?"

"Yeah, I guess we are."

***

"You have ten minutes to explain."

Sarah had been a manager for a few bands before, but none were as popular as Close Corners. She wasn't used to all of the high publicity shit that went on, but she still got stuff done, which is why we really liked her. She knew how to get what she wanted with a flash of her charming smile and a flutter of her long eyelashes. Everyone always fell for it, even me.

"Some asshole got a lot of pictures of you two together last night, your hands on Brendon's shoulders, his hands on your waist. His hand on your fucking thigh." She rolled her eyes at that. "I don't know what happened last night between you two but--"

"Ryan puked on him. It was fucking hilarious." Pete snorted, looking down at his phone and smiling brightly at the memory.

"It doesn't matter. What matters is that those pictures have been all over the internet, and ever since they came out last night, sales of the album and sales of his magazines have almost doubled. People love the idea of Americas sweetheart dating Americas bad boy."

"We aren't dating." I bite back bitterly, rolling my eyes gently at the thought.

"Oh yes you are. Brendon and his manager have already agreed to it. You two are going to be Hollywood's next power couple. We need the publicity."

"We don't need the fucking publicity Sarah." I say with a roll of my eyes. Last time I checked, I was a millionaire with a loft in two of the most expensive cities in the world and Brendon was rolling in loads of cocaine and cash. He didn't need any publicity either. Money wasn't an issue.

"We need a way to promote the new album. And they need a way to promote Brendon's new cologne." I snort at that and shake my head. New cologne? What did it smell like? Cocaine and weed mixed with ass? Yeah, that would sell wonderfully.

But Sarah looked at me with these big eyes, her lip pouted out gently and a strand of hair fell over her face and I couldn't say no to that face. "Fine. I'll do it. But if he tries to touch me I'll rip his hand off."

I can't believe I just agreed to this shit.