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Lady Gaga

A/N: I have literally zero clue what this was initially supposed to be, but whatever it is, it took me way longer than expected. Still managed to stick to the update schedule, though, so it's all good lol. Enjoy! :)

"Are you Lady Gaga? Because you make my heARTPOP."

"Come in."

Mitch opened the heavy wooden door, holding his briefcase in his other hand, his anger already rising in his throat. There, sitting nice and pretty behind his shiny desk, was the source of all of Mitch's current misery: Scott Hoying, CEO of Consolidated Music, a corporate music retailer that sold nearly every CD imaginable, plus new and used vintage records. Mitch knew the ins and outs of Consolidated Music like the back of his hand, considering that they've been Mitch's top competitor ever since he opened up his own record store, Keys Please. "Competitor" wasn't even an appropriate term; Consolidated Music's major retailer status meant that their sales always dominated Mitch's.

It had always been Mitch's dream to operate his own music store. He'd pictured himself as one of those rich hipsters who could afford to go to all the high-profile music festivals and run a Tumblr blog with thousands of followers. But reality sucks ass, and the reality was that Mitch was broke as fuck and singlehandedly running a failing business. The more royalties he payed to sell up-and-coming albums, the more people bypassed Keys Please and went to Consolidated Music to buy them instead. Mitch had paid through the nose to be able to carry Lady Gaga's new album, ARTPOP, in his store on its actual release date, and he could not have been more excited. He had always been a big Gaga fan, and he was expecting this album to draw in some customers. But Consolidated's prices were cheaper than Mitch's because their sales were high, so they could afford to set the price of the album lower. And the lower their price, the more people buy the album from them and not from Mitch. It was a vicious cycle that had been going on for too long and Mitch had had enough, and it was all thanks to this (okay, hot as fuck) pain in the ass whose office he was currently in. He had booked a meeting with him to discuss the issue, and he had even planned out what he was going to say and how he was going to say it in order to settle this matter once and for all. But he was still nervous. Not just because Scott was really, really attractive (which he was; not fair how he could run an uber-successful business and look incredibly sexy while doing it), but because Mitch's financial and emotional well-being depended on it.

Fucking Scott Hoying.

Fucking Lady Gaga.

"Hello, Mr. Hoying," Mitch said dryly, closing the door behind him. "Nice to see you."

Scott stood up from his desk, and Mitch couldn't help but admire the slim, tailored fit of his suit as he moved out from behind his desk to shake Mitch's hand. "Likewise. Remind me, have we met?"

Was this shithead serious? "Oh, several times. Arlington Chamber of Commerce bi-monthly meetings, you know," Mitch replied with forced enthusiasm, trying not to sound like too much of a dick.

Scott took a second to process, and his blue eyes shot open wider. "Oh! Right, Mr. Grassi, of course. My mistake," he rambled, nodding furiously. "I'm so sorry."

Mitch simply gave Scott a forced, closed-lipped smile. Scott had a tendency to be placid and mannerly, but he was also kind of an airhead. Mitch didn't feel like dealing with it too much. He just wanted to give this fucker a piece of his mind and get the hell out of there. "Not a problem at all, sir. I won't be taking up much of your time, I just wanted to discuss a couple things about certain...business practices that are affecting the music community here in Arlington."

"Of course. Have a seat, Mr. Grassi," Scott instructed, motioning to one of the chairs in front of his desk and he moved back behind it and took his own seat.