"𝐈 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐚 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞."
In which a declining Hollywood Star performs his vendetta to make Hollywood bleed.
This book is rated mature due to the triggering...
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WHEN LUCA PULLED up to Manning Records, the last thing he expected was to be bombarded by paparazzi as soon as his driver parked the car.
Even though half his life he'd been in Hollywood, being around paparazzi was something he'd never got used to. He got used to taking pictures with random people. People he never saw more people than once and never followed his twenty-four-seven wherever he went.
It was the blinding lights and many voices that bothered him. Most would think paparazzi were nothing compared to being in a stadium with thousands of voices yelling and music blasting—but most didn't have hundreds of men following them around with cameras and different questions being yelled into their ears.
When Luca was nineteen years old, he had a panic attack in the midst of being crowded by paparazzi. The worst part was not only the feeling of him falling to the floor but the cameras being shoved in his face and the flashes that blinded his eyes. Everything was so loud, and his head felt like it was on fire. No one bothered to help him until Brandy and security noticed Luca wasn't following behind them into the restaurant.
The flashing lights blinded his vision though his slightly tinted windows. He inhaled deeply as he turned his head to the back window. Different sized men stood behind his truck with cameras glued to their faces.
"Just relax." He ordered himself, closing his eyes as he took deep breaths.
The rain would've sounded pleasing and comforting for an average person, but it was chaos and a feeling of uncertainty for him.
Holding down on the button for a few seconds, Luca lifted his finger when the window was half down. "Can you guys please move so I can get out?"
Instead of them listening, they yelled at different questions.
"Luca, is it true you'll be going back on tour so soon?" One asked as he snapped a quick photo.
"What happened during your tour Luca?"
"What happened between you and Jacob Manning because of Bella?" A more resonant voice asked as a large video camera with a bright light was shoved into the cracked space.
Quickly shoving the machine out of the way, Luca hurriedly closed the window as he blinked multiple times. He swallowed the bile in his throat as he clenched his fist tightly.
Only SMAC's reporter would be a complete dick and ignorant asshole and shove a camera through the window. All the company's paparazzi cared for were pictures that looked deceiving enough to add a title that wasn't anything but what the picture showed.
Luca needed to be calm—he needed to think with a clear mind. It didn't help that his half-empty whiskey bottle was hidden in the passenger seat's back pocket. He drank throughout most of the night and morning. He was still drunk.
He found that his staying drunk was better for writing purposes—or at least that was the excuse he kept telling himself. He couldn't compose music sober, so he did it drunk.
