Strike (Sphere of Irony 2)

“Christ you’re being a miserable bastard today,” Adam says, glaring at me from across the tiny sound studio. “What do you have to complain about?”

“Fuck off, Reynolds,” I growl.

Adam’s eyes flash with anger. “We’re never going to get this done if you don’t man up and bloody concentrate!”

Hawke and Gavin are watching us carefully, their eyes bouncing back and forth between the two of us as we argue.

“Don’t fucking talk to me about responsibility, Reynolds! Half the time we’re due for studio time you’re either rat-arsed or coming off the piss, so sod the fuck off!” I roar.

Adam’s eyes go wider than I’ve ever seen. I’m normally sympathetic to his issues with alcohol. Even more so now that I know what it’s like to love someone and lose her. Today is just not the day to fuck with me. I’m confused and angry and ready for the closest target to let loose all of that negative energy on.

Adam just made himself the obvious choice.

He yanks off his guitar strap, placing the instrument on its stand. “Fuck you, Davies!” he snarls before turning on his heel and storming out of the booth.

“Well, that went wonderfully,” Hawke says. “I guess we’re taking a break?”

A voice booms over the speakers “Jesus. Yes, take a ten-minute break. Davies, in here. Now.” Our sound engineer Gary is in the booth on the other side of the glass, his expression stormy.

Gavin pats my shoulder and follows Hawke out of the room. I put my guitar down and count to three before entering the control room. Gary is scowling, ready to explode in anger.

“What the fuck, Dax?” He leans back in his chair, staring me down with hard, grey eyes.

“Reckon I’m not feeling it today.” I say it unapologetically. Sue me, I feel like being a whinging bastard today. I’m entitled after the dream I had last night.

“Too bad. You’re booked in here through the rest of the week and Griffin expects it all to be laid down by then.” Gary narrows his eyes, challenging me to defy him.

A challenge? That, I can do.

“Griffin can go fuck himself,” I snarl, storming out of the booth. Gary tosses out threats that bounce harmlessly off my back. I’m too busy fuming to pay attention.

Of course, since today seems to be the day that karma kicks my ass, I run right into Lila and that bloody film crew that follows her everywhere. She always manages to get her schedule to coincide with mine.

She’s either a bloody psychic or she’s stalking me. I know which one I think it is.

“Daxey babe, there you are.” I duck aside before she can get her octopus arms around me. Lila is flat out barmy. Nearly three fucking years of me dodging her, ignoring her, and even yelling obscenities at her and she still thinks we’re a couple. She’s completely demented.

Three months ago, daddy got her a reality TV show and her number one goal is to prove to the world that she and I are madly in love.

Never going to happen.

Unfortunately for me, being a complete wanker to her hasn’t worked. The first episode aired a few weeks back and they edited all that shit out, making it look like my sole purpose in life is to hang around Lila. I threatened to sue her for misrepresenting me, but Ross said something about an appendix on television appearances in our contract. It’s worded so broadly that he says there’s nothing I can do except try to avoid getting caught on camera.

Easier said than done when you have a five foot one, hundred pound, bleach blonde stalker who happens to be the daughter of your boss, a very important man in the entertainment industry.

“Let’s not have a repeat of last week, Lila.” I smirk at one of her cameramen who swallows nervously.

“Oh Daxey, you wouldn’t hit Kirk again, right?” She turns to Kirk, his camera shaking in his hand. “He’s kidding, Kirk.”

“No, I’m not.” I shoot him a lethal glare.

Kirk made the mistake of getting way too close while trying to capture a shot of Lila attempting to wrestle a kiss out of me.

“It’s not my fault you’re learning impaired, Lila. I’ll do it again in a heartbeat if you or him ever gets that close to me again.” I stab a finger in Kirk’s direction, causing the man to go ghostly pale.

Lila’s mouth flattens into a line, then she smiles wickedly. “Don’t be such a grouch, Daxey.” She leans in to my side, trying to get a few shots that make us look like a cozy couple.

“Sod off.” Without a second thought, I walk away, leaving Lila to stumble without my shoulder supporting her. I ignore her pleas for me to come back, grateful when I turn a corner and can’t hear her annoying voice anymore.