So he’s supposed to be my bleedin’ brother? I don’t care if we grew up together and our parents were like family. Sometimes even blood’s not thick enough to make you tolerate some of the *@# such as Colin Dunlow has dished. And he’s not even blood.
What? Yeah…that Colin Dunlow. Just because a bloke is thrust into the spotlight of fame and has a voice that would seduce the ice princess herself doesn’t mean he’s absolved of being a donkey’s behind. After all I’ve done for him—bein’ his manager has not exactly been a day at Regent’s Park.
Of course he and his band Dumbarton skyrocketed up the charts. The man has more talent in his little finger than all those contestants on Britain’s Got Talent. Oh yeah, you Yanks call it American Idol your side of the pond. But then he started in with the bottle. I should say he escalated his consumption. We all had many a night out down the pub over a few pints, but when Colin started in on the hard stuff too—well let’s just say it’s a miracle he’s still alive.
So I find this talent over in Los Angeles whilst there with my other clients and actually convince her to fly over to sing at the AID’s benefit at Royal Albert Hall. She’d take the place by storm for dead cert with that sultry alto voice and those lavender eyes. Like the royal jewels they are. She’s this pretty way about her. Got a walk like a little boy, but with this allure of the full-blown hot commodity she is.
No, you got it all wrong. I am a professional. I know when to touch a woman and when not. Colin did not need to threaten bodily harm. She’s my client and I’ve got to see to getting her launched. He’s crazy if he thinks she’ll give him a second look, just out of half way house, he is. He can’t even see to washing his socks, much less so much as a double take at a powerhouse of talent such as Miss Jenna Lindstrom. And then he has the *^#@ to ask me not to touch ‘er?
I live in the real world here— today’s Britain and round the globe to see to my clients. You’ll see no make believe in my world. I deal with some of the most talented people on the planet—and the biggest pains in the arse. Anyways, I’ve no concern or sympathy for you others who frolic about the imagination. I’ve got a world of music fans to keep happy…and one effin’ ex drunk that can lose more dosh—oh yeah, money— in one night if he’s not there onstage than the rest of my clients bring in in a year’s time.
If he so much as harms a sun kissed hair on Miss Jenna’s head, I’ll…I’ll not be held responsible for my actions. Hangin’ out with the likes of him can bring nothin’ but unwanted attentions. The man simply spells trouble.
Okay—I’m away. Got some studio recordin’ time to see to.