[C][AU] Fermata

Dick leaned against the arm of the chair, fishing his phone back out.

"No problem."

He flicked through his contacts, finding Giacinto.

Won't be going into work today. Going to Hank Masin's gig setup. Thought it would be good for the article.

He sent it without letting himself give it too much thought. He had a tendency to agonise over messages if he did.

He got a picture message in return.


Giacinto was laid out on a woman's bare stomach, her hair fanned out around her, artfully censoring the other woman's nude crotch, clearly not at work herself. Her wrist was pressed against her forehead in a dramatic swoon.

Look at my boy, ditching work. They grow up so fast!!

Dick narrowed his eyes at his phone. as if his boss could feel his glare through the photo on his phone.

I'm not ditching. I'm researching.

He was just incredibly lucky that his research involved going to a gig setup with Hank Masin.

I hope you're working, too. He added in another text, even though it was apparent she wasn't.

Researching what? How deep your crush on him really is?

Giacinto wasn't one to take bullshit. She never had been and never would be. Dick's bullshit was just the same as everyone else's.

Oh yes, very hard <3

A flush spread up his neck and across his cheeks at being caught out.

He flicked his eyes up to see if Hank was there then back down at the phone.

Even if I did have one it is completely irrelevant. I'm going strictly for work.

Si, tesoro, si.

Clearly she didn't believe him in the slightest.

And just then Fleck appeared, wearing a plain black t-shirt, a fitted leather jacket, and acid wash jeans tucked into knee-high military boots.

"I've had a bit too much to drive us there myself, so I'll have to call a driver." He slipped past Dick, to pick up his phone and dial. It only took a moment to arrange.

"They'll be here in fifteen."

With a roll of his eyes, he shoved the phone back into his pocket.

At the sound of Hank entering the room again, he looked up. Before he could stop and think about what he was doing blue eyes scanned over the figure in front of him appreciatively.

He loved his job.

Dick nodded.

"Okay."

The taxis in LA were pretty reliable - unlike back home. So they won't be waiting longer than fifteen minutes.

Dick twiddled with his thumbs, a little unsure of what to say to fill these minutes. Every instinct told him to throw questions at Hank - as if that wasn't what he was doing for the last hour. He was sure he was sick of them by now.

Fleck threw himself down onto the couch.

"So, I know you interviewed me for work, and you took up this invitation because you wanted to be polite, but do you actually like my music?"

Quite often he had interviewers that didnt like his music, and only tolerated him because they were getting paid at the end of it.

He wanted to know which one Dick was.

Dick tilted his head up as he thought the question over. It wasn't unusual - lots of musicians were curious. And he always felt it was only fair to give them an honest answer after grilling them.

"I wasn't too sure when I first heard your album, back before it became a hit," he admitted.

Blue eyes were glued on his hands, blush still prevalent on his cheeks.

"I mean, I liked it. All your songs have a good tune, but they just didn't draw me in at first.

"Then I found myself listening to the album a second time around. Then a third time and a fourth time. Before I knew it, I couldn't stop listening to it. Especially since by then I knew and understood the lyrics."

Rose Tinted was still his number one played song on Spotify. But he wasn't prepared to be that honest.

"I think the lyrics are the album's biggest strength."

Fleck smiled as he relaxed into the couch.

"At least I know that if you're going to be biased in your article, it'll be in my favour," he joked.

He tried not to feed any mills, or give them any material to spin him in a bad light, but if people didn't like him, then they would find something. That was just how it was.

"I try to be neutral... Most of the time."

He returned Fleck's smile and pushed an unruly curl back behind his ear.

Being neutral wasn't normally too difficult to do, even after he thoroughly researched an artist; finding out all the great things they have done and all the terrible things they have done.

Most of the time the feelings he had weren't too strong. People do good things. People do bad things. It was just the way it was.

But the few times he had strong feelings for an artist (good or bad), he would carefully word the article so it would seem like he was being neutral. Just like everyone else in the industry.

He would never outright slander someone off. That wasn't his style. Also, he didn't want his reputation as a reliable and fair journalist poured down the drain.

"Do you read a lot of articles about yourself?"

"Nah, I don't read any. Chai does all the reading and complaining about them for me."

He didn't like reading other peoples opinions about himself. Pretty much all the people that wrote about him didn't know him from Adam. What did he care if someone that he didn't even know had something to say about him?

"Whose Chai?" He asked, curiously.

His mind raced as he tried to think who they were to Hank.

A relative? A friend? Or maybe a partner? His heart sunk a little bit if that were the case.

So little was known about Hank Masin's private life he wouldn't be surprised if he had a partner hidden away from the paparazzi.

"My sister."

One of many. His family was large, and he didn't often speak of any of his family. He wasn't even sure if many of his fans knew he had siblings, let alone the sheer amount he had.

Not that it mattered if they knew or not.

His phone buzzed. "Rides here. C'mon."

He stood and made his way to the door, holding it open for Dick.

His perked up, heart and hopes lifting.

"Oh, I see."

He was embarrassed at himself. This whole meeting was supposed to be a strictly professional, yet this little crush was getting the better of him. He shouldn't care whether or not Hank Masin had a partner (which was still entirely possible).

He thanked Hank as he passed him and made his way over to the elevators.

"Do you normally bring your interviewer along?" He asked as he waited for one to open for them.

"Only the cute ones," he flirted, as he closed his door and ambled down the hallway towards the elevator.

The professional bit was done now, and the interviewer was cute.

What was the harm in a little flirting?

His mouth formed an 'O' shape as his face turned hot.

It was implied that he was cute. Hank Masin implied that he was cute. Hank Masin - his celebrity crush - implied that he was cute.

He should probably flirt back.

"Good."

Internally he winced and wished he could slap himself.

What type of pathetic flirting was that? Maybe he should have taken up the offer his colleagues gave him on how to flirt.

He was glad when the elevator pinged as it reached their floor, darting into it.

The blunt and flustered reply, and the swish of air as Dick bolted past him into the elevator, had him laughing heartily.

Well, at least he knew now that he hadn't read Dick wrong. He did like him.

Dick heard the laugh behind him and his blush deepened in colour.

After he pressed the button for the ground floor a couple of times he leant against the elevator wall as he waited for Hank to follow him in. Feigning interest in his shoes as he tried to compose himself and push down his blush.

A part of him hoped the doors would close on Hank. At least that would give himself time to calm down. Maybe figure out a better attempt of flirting, rather than his flustered attempt.

He felt the weight of his phone in his pocket and was tempted to ask Giacinto advice. But that thought was quickly thrown away. He wasn't prepared to cause himself more embarrassment. Even if she did have useful advice, he was sure she would get a laugh out of it.

The door didn't close on Fleck.

He leaned against the wall opposite Dick, content to wait for a response from Dick.

He didn't want to carry on flirting and end up driving DIck away.

Dick chewed on his lip as he spotted Hank's boots in the corner of his eye.

The decent down felt considerably longer than going up in it earlier. Thankfully it wasn't a small elevator. There was room to breathe.

"Are you nervous? For tonight?" He asked after the stretch of silence.

He decided, in the end, he wasn't going to attempt at terrible flirting. Maybe he could make an idiot of himself later.

Maybe.

Probably won't happen.

"A little, yeah. I've been told that this is the biggest crowd I'll be singing to in my career."

His eyes searched out DIck's and he gave a crooked half-smile. "Most people would get nervous singing in front of so many people, I think. But I'm excited, too. I love the thought of entertaining so any people."

When Dick met Hank's eyes he felt the tension in his shoulders ease up a little at the smile.

"I don't know how any of you do it - standing in front of thousands. Or even just a small bar."

He gave Hank a half smile.

"I am glad you are excited, though."

"I just sing for myself. Close my eyes and just breathe."

Pretend he was alone, and just sing. The way he did in the shower, or when he was really into painting or sculpting and just let it out.

He did all of this or himself. Entertaining other people with it was a bonus.

When the doors opened, he gestured for Dick to go first.

He fell into step besides Dick as they left the hotel.

"Ma va la!" he yelled out when he caught sight of a car, and more importantly the tall, slim man sat in the drivers seat. He pelted towards the car, a sexy red convertible. "Chrysanthemum!"

He descended into a slur of Italian, that all blurred together into one long and impossible to understand word, as he leaned over the car door in his excitement.

Which just left the man in the car laughing.

Dick jumped as he heard Hank yell, then looked at him in bewilderment as he yelled out a name of a flower and pelted towards an expensive looking car. Obviously, someone he knew.

He followed him over, hanging back awkwardly as Hank chatted excitedly in Italian.