Renaissance

Chapter 16

"Giovanni, I really don't feel comfortable in this," he hesitated.

His Italian stylist waved his hand dismissively. "Comfortable, schmomfortable," he said, his voice sounding nasal as ever. "Zeu look zelicious!"

He stared at the mirror, shifting uncomfortably in his suit. He wouldn't deny the fact that he looked good with his hair spiked up, fringe slicked down, a classy-looking black Calvin Klein suit. But the blazer made his movements feel a bit restricted. Giovanni happily tidied his apparel although he couldn't see any faults. Finally, he sighed in defeat. He'd humour his stylist just for this.

"Vonderful!" Giovanni exclaimed in his thick accent. "Zeu va going to rrip ze macaroni vouta zem!"

Greyson barely understood what he said. "Oh gosh, Giovanni, please never say that again. Is that like some strange Italian saying I've never heard of?"

"Greyson!" His manager's loud voice interrupted them. He groaned. "Coming!" Turning to Giovanni, he thanked him and, grabbing his phone, walked out of the studio. Victoria gave him a critical once-over and nodded approvingly before turning on her heel and walking toward the entrance where the limousine was waiting. "We have to go, we're going to be late."

He pushed the glass doors open and was relieved to find no paparazzi waiting outside - obviously, they were all already at the Staples Center - only, instead, his team waiting for him, all dressed up in polished threads. Stix wolf-whistled and Dwayne was doing the 'ooh-woot ooh-woot' thing again, pumping his hands up in the air.

"Shut up and get in, guys," he grinned.

They piled into the limousine, which pulled away from the curb and began heading quickly toward the venue. Greyson took a glass of the cocktails provided and sipped at it, wanting to lift his spirits for the event.

"Greyson." He turned to his manager, slightly surprised at her serious tone and equally serious face. "I'm proud of you. I knew you have the potential and that's why I've done everything to bring you here. Now you've accomplished so much, and I'm proud to call myself your manager."

He gave only a small, polite smile in return as a thank-you. Victoria nodded in response and turned her attention away, sipping at her cocktail and talking to the chauffeur. Greyson, on the other hand, kept silent, picking his glass up again and draining it, staring outside the window at the blur of life they passed.

He knew the real reason why he was where he was.

∞

 It was already in full swing, and the show hadn't even started yet.

Their limousine pulled up to the curb, where there were already masses of paparazzi and throngs of fangirls pushing and shoving. Other celebrities were already walking down the red carpet, and he recognised a few - The Fray, Coldplay, the likes. Even from inside the limousine, they could hear the magnificent racket.

"What a riot," he muttered, but he couldn't deny the excitement bubbling up inside of him, in spite of things that had been bothering him.

"That's your first awards show for you," Victoria said with a sophisticated smile. "Ready?"

Greyson had barely nodded before he could register the door opening for him - apparently the chauffeur had rushed to it without them knowing. He scowled at him - he told him not to do that - but then he had to quickly paste a brilliant smile on his face, for he was now in the view of the crowds. Stepping out of the limousine, followed by his team, he was then promptly blinded by the unrelenting flashes from the countless cameras, as well as deafened by the fantastic noise that was the thousand shouts from the paparazzi and, of course, the screams and cries of the fans, pushing and shoving. He stood there awkwardly for a moment, unsure about whether he should pose or just move. His answer came when Stix leaned forward, whispering through his teeth bared in a smile, "smile."