Paper Parachute | Celebrity Romance

8.

"Don't think you're getting out of this so easy." Damon said to Blake as everyone stood from the table.

"You stay. Everyone else can go. You're slotted for noon in room D tomorrow, don't be late." The other boys nodded and gave Blake their version of looks of sympathy as they left the meeting room.

"What the fuck Blake? We specifically talked about the fact that if questions arose about the party you weren't going to say anything about Blair being drugged."

"So, tell me, what exactly was I supposed to do, Damon? Usually you're yelling at me for being as asshole. Last night, I do something decent for once in my life and you want me to pretend I was being an asshole and lie to protect someone who purposefully tried to hurt her? Would you rather me have let her get labeled an easy, drunk slut before she had a chance to make a name for herself? You tell me."

"I don't know Blake. I guess I just expected you to ignore it like you usually do."

"Well, usually what they're saying is true. I don't want it to be anymore. I'm tired of being thought of as this complete jerk who doesn't care about anyone but himself. That's not who I am. You know—she woke up this morning surprised I didn't fuck her. She thought I'd take advantage of her while she was blacked out. That's how fucked up my life has become. That's what people think when they meet me and I'm sick of it. So I'm sorry but I'm not that sorry that I wouldn't play scapegoat to some prick who thought it was okay to drug a girl. If you wanna help the company out, the bar had cameras. I'd suggest using the footage to find out who drugged her and then blacklisting them. That's what I would do but hey, I'm just some dumb, singer prick. What do I know?"

He was done with this conversation. He'd done the right thing that night. He was sure of it and he refused to let someone attempt to convinced him otherwise. He stood abruptly and dismissed himself from the meeting, slamming the door to the meeting room and moving angrily towards the elevator. The doors slid open immediately, like they could sense he needed to get away from that room as quickly as was possible.

He entered the lift and punched the button for the first floor, gripping the railing and trying to catch his breath. By the time the elevator reached the first floor he had managed to return his breathing to normal and he ran his hands through his dark curls as he stepped out.

He looked up and jumped slightly when he realized someone was stood directly in front of him. He relaxed when he saw it was Blair.

"Hey, It's you! How'd your meeting with Damon go earlier?"

"Um, he was pretty easy on me to be honest. I think he was more angry with you. I tried to tell him it was all my fault for accepting a drink from a stranger and that you were just being nice, but he didn't seem to want to hear it. I'm sorry if I got you in trouble."

"It's whatever, Damon's an ass. I'm not worried about it. How's the rest of your day been?" He shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. He usually wasn't one for small talk but he wasn't ready to say goodbye to her just yet so he was biding time.

"Um, I did some more recording so I've got two songs in progress for the EP now. It's crazy how fast everything is happening. They've kind of thrown me in head first."

"They don't want to lose you. You're really good. I heard you the other day when we were walking in."

Blair felt the blush creep onto her cheeks at his words. Whoever the Blake Everett the press loved to talk about was, she hadn't met him. She felt a twinge of guilt that she had prejudged him. The Blake she kept meeting was nothing but kind. He'd looked out for her and taken care of her in a tough situation and he had successfully piqued her curiosity. She wanted to get to know him, if for no reason aside from distinguishing the real Blake from the one she had envisioned in her mind, the persona the media had created for him.