Page 40 of Crimson Desires
I relented with a sigh. “Sure, Cal. What do you want to know?”
Cal leaned in, his eyes glinting. Predator cornering prey. At least, I’m sure that’s how he saw himself.
“Your music has been a staple of Kaleidoscope Radio for a long time. And for that reason, I know most of our listeners are wondering: what prompted you to shift into rock music?”
I leaned back in my chair. “Well, first of all, if you’re not playing Wicked Crimson on your airwaves, you’re seriously missing the fuck out. But anyways, my switch from pop to rock came after a long journey of artistic self-discovery. To me, pop music represents an era of my life that I’ve been growing out of for a long time. I love how raw and authentic rock music can be.”
“Are you saying that your pop music wasn’t authentic?” Cal asked.
“No. I’m just saying that it’s no longer authentic to who I am now.”
“Do you ever feel that your shift was disingenuous?”
“Disingenuous how?”
Cal gestured vaguely with his hands. “I’m just saying. Some critics claim that your new edge comes off as manufactured.”
Damien scoffed. “Critics don’t know shit.”
Cal ignored Damien’s ire. “Did your writers stick with you when you switched genres? Your producers? Your marketing team?”
I narrowed my eyes. “No. Wicked Crimson is a collaborative effort between us five, and our producer-slash-manager, Ava Lang.”
“Do you think that Wicked Crimson’s success will ever exceed the fame you enjoyed as a solo artist?” Cal asked.
Damien made a displeased noise at the back of his throat. “Dude, who the fuck allowed this guy to interview us?”
Zephyr shot Damien a look. “Damien. Shut the fuck up.”
“No,” Damien snapped. “I’m sick of this guy and his shitty questions. It’s clear that he only booked this interview with us so that he could interrogate Jack.”
“That’s not true. I’m here to interview all of you. To gain an understanding of your band as a whole,” Cal defended.
“Then name five of our songs.”
“Pardon?”
“If you want me to continue this interview, then name five of our songs. Prove that you give a shit about Wicked Crimson and not just Jack.”
Cal rolled his eyes. His practiced smile fell from his lips. “I don’t mind finishing this interview with one less band member if that’s what you’re threatening.”
“Two fewer band members,” I said.
Cal frowned. “Jack-,”
I silenced him by raising my hand. “I know that you’ve got a job to do. I know you’ve got producers breathing down your neck. I know you want something that’ll get you engagement. And I know that Jack Maverick is a hell of a lot more popular than Wicked Crimson. At least, right now. But just because I know that doesn’t mean I’m going to let you disrespect my bandmates.”
“Jack, stop,” Kane said. “Let Damien walk away. We can finish without him.”
I shot Kane a glare. “Dude, this asshole has done nothing but ignore you guys. He didn’t even shake any of your hands. You think that’s fucking okay?”
Kane opened his mouth to respond, but Zephyr stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. Zephyr looked at Cal, his gaze even. “Kane, Axel, and I will finish this interview with you.”
“I’m not interviewing three-fifths of Wicked Crimson,” Cal said.
“Then you’re not getting anything,” I sneered.
Cal’s expression morphed into something cruel. “Oh, I have something. I have all this footage.” He gestured to the cameras. That’s when I realized: everything was still rolling.