S2/01. Trash Talk

1.4 Alejandro Gonzales
Spring 1998, Alejandro's apartment, San Myshuno

Alejandro took a deep breath of the cool night air. The scent of freedom.

As much as Rita throwing him out had been a bucket of ice water over his head, in hindsight it was the best thing that’d happened to him since he'd made his love for music a profession. Sure, it was with Rita's help and – you could say, ‘light pressure’, after all, it was Rita who’d arranged the connections to his agent at the time.
"Your reputation is already in the gutter- at least no one will care if you're in that kind of business" she’d said.

Practical woman, that Rita, and business savvy too, but it was Alejandro who had worked his ass off to get where he was now. Alejandro who’d practiced every minute, picked the right people for his band, and built "Deep Rift" brand up from nothing.

San Myshuno was just the next step to more success.

  

Nico had objected at first, as expected, claimed that they'd be forced to give up their integrity if they signed with a major label. 

Blah blah blah. 

Alejandro called it bullshit.

They weren't clueless newbies anymore, they had years of experience ‌in‌ ‌the‌ ‌business‌ ‌and‌ ‌Joanne‌ ‌was‌ ‌one‌ hell of a ‌smart‌ ‌ass‌ ‌agent; no way they’d be forced into selling out.
Alejandro‌ ‌suspected‌ ‌Nico‌ was just trying to find an excuse not to have to break up with his girlfriend for a long distance move; as‌ ‌if‌ ‌he‌ ‌couldn't‌ ‌find‌ ‌a‌ ‌pretty,‌ ‌dumb,‌ ‌high‌ ‌maintenance‌ ‌chick‌ ‌anywhere‌ ‌in‌ ‌San‌ ‌My.‌

As for Francesco – that fucker was thirsty for the stage like no one else. That‌ ‌man‌ ‌ate, slept, and breathed‌ ‌attention, of course he was in it if it meant a bigger audience and better chances to broadcast their music vids.
Until now, the vocalist only had hesitated to sign because his wife didn't want to move away from Oasis Springs.

But she was history now. 

Francesco had finally dumped Psycho-Barbie – turned out she was a jealous nightmare. God‌ ‌knows‌ ‌how‌ ‌that‌ ‌guy‌ ‌survived‌ ‌her‌ ‌for‌ ‌so‌ ‌long, let alone marrying the crazy chick.‌

Alejandro wondered if Francesco had some masochistic tendencies. 

It would probably take a while for Francesco to get rid of her now, and not without some collateral damage, but the guy seemed fine enough. He was more relaxed and focused on his work than ever, and even‌ ‌got‌ ‌himself‌ ‌a‌ ‌new‌ casual‌ ‌fling. Alejandro hoped ‌Francesco‌ had ‌learned‌ ‌his‌ ‌lesson‌ ‌that‌ ‌caring‌ ‌too‌ ‌much‌ ‌was‌ ‌always‌ ‌a‌ ‌mistake.‌ ‌

Life could only get better.
Nothing would hold them back.
Alejandro couldn't help but smile.

Finally, the door bell rung and he went to tell the cab driver that their customer would come down soon.

"Why don't you let me stay?" the woman on his bed purred. "What if you wake up tonight and you're lonely? You'll‌ ‌have‌ ‌no‌ ‌one‌ ‌here‌ ‌to‌ ‌keep‌ ‌you‌ ‌company, and you'd‌ ‌miss‌ ‌me"
Alejandro would not. In case she hadn't noticed, he had two healthy, functional hands.

"Honey, I have a hard day tomorrow. Can't have my manager yell at me for falling asleep during practice."
That never happened. And Joanne never yelled.

What's-her-name pouted. "So I'm a bother to you..."
Wait – was that his shirt? She'd probably made it all wrinkly. Damn these women, couldn't they just put on their own clothes?

"More like a distraction," he winked.

The chick relaxed and slid out of the bed. "Maybe we can have another five minutes?"

Pressing ‌her‌ ‌half-naked‌ ‌body‌ ‌against‌ ‌his‌, ‌she ‌let‌ ‌her‌ ‌fingers‌ ‌run‌ ‌up‌ ‌and‌ ‌down‌ his arm. 

Greedy girl.‌

Under‌ ‌different‌ ‌circumstances‌ he might’ve been game,‌ ‌but‌ ‌they‌’d already been at it for two hours,‌ ‌he‌ ‌was‌ ‌tired,‌ ‌and‌ ‌God‌ ‌damnit,‌ ‌he‌ ‌wanted‌ ‌to‌ ‌‌sleep‌.‌

"You're worth more time than that, honey," he tried to muster some patience, "but we can't have the poor driver wait forever, he has to earn his living too."

The woman let out a deep sigh before she gathered her stuff. Wait - she‌ ‌wasn’t ‌even‌ going to ‌change‌ ‌out‌ ‌of‌ ‌his‌ ‌shirt, she‌ ‌just tucked‌ ‌it‌ ‌into‌ ‌her‌ ‌skirt.

"Honey," he interrupted her stuffing her own top in her tiny handbag, "take off my shirt, will ya." No way ‌he'd‌ let her walk out with it – God knows if he'd ever get it back.

And he liked this shirt. Pure silk.
What’s-her-face ‌paused‌, and a ‌lascivious‌ ‌smile‌ ‌spread over ‌her‌ ‌face.‌ Of course she'd misunderstand; Alejandro had to suppress an eye roll. 

"And put on your own clothes," he added. Watching her face fall was almost as satisfying as her thirst for him.

No. Better.

The chick ‌frowned,‌ ‌but‌ ‌at‌ ‌least‌ ‌she‌ ‌did‌ ‌what‌ ‌she was told.

After she'd dressed she wrapped her arms around him again. 

"Will you call me?" She batted her eyelashes once more.

She shouldn't do that. Didn't suit her.

"Sure honey, when I have time."
More like, never. She was pretty, but God, so dull, only had sex and clothes on the brain.
Another frown, a half-hearted goodbye kiss, and out of the door she went.
Finally.
Alejandro went to bed.