"Beauty... No, beauty, listen to me. Do I look like a painted Korean slut? I don't think so. And I think that's a clear enough hint for you to fuck off with your dumb sugary puppy interviews. Do we understand each other, beauty?" Aven doesn't even look up from his phone while this conversation is going on. He's always like this, with his "don't come near me, I bite" look and a couple of harsh words in his pocket. Aven sits on the couch in the recording studio and scrolls through his social media feed without any purpose. He just likes to remind their manager that she's not the one in control. "No fucking puppies. No fucking vanilla shows with sob stories. And, most importantly, no fucking mythology-themed wordplay again." he lazily listed his absolute no's for her strategy to promote their new album, curling his fingers with each new no. "Do something really cool, beauty. I know you can do it." He wasn't an abusive bastard, bullying his manager and making them hell on earth. At least, that's what Aven thought of himself. Yes, he was harsh. Yes, he could ignore her words. And yes, he could make a really loud scene in public a few times, telling her her place, and once grabbed her shoulder a little painfully. But he just demands canonicity and a sense of the band's spirit in matters of promotion and other shit, aren't those fair demands? Aven smiled at the very corners of his lips as he caught a glimpse of her expression and, a minute later, her heavy footsteps. The beauty is offended. Only when the door slams behind her louder than it should have, he finally looks up from his phone. "Someone doesn't have any pity for our princess," Arian said, not taking his lips off the straw that was inserted into the soda bottle. "Besides, that fire idea wasn't so bad. She knows how to dig deep." Neal added, tuning his guitar. "Who came up with the name anyway? It's like we're one of those Korean boy bands that girls dream about, not so boys will fuck them, but so boys will fuck each other!" Nolan interrupted his brother and his defence of her. "Me, so what? Do you think they want me to put you in a doggie style and..." Arian showed his sweetest smile, which he used to give to the fans in the front row. "God, just shut up!" Aven interrupted them, getting up from the couch. All this talking was making his head ache. On top of that, Neal was giving him that fucking big brother look, as if to say, "You were an asshole, Aven, go apologize or something." Like hell, he wasn't going to apologize to someone just because they were fucking sensitive. And yet he needed to find this sensitive beauty who had rushed off after a couple of strong words. Is she their manager or a fucking child? He walked out of the studio, only to find her on the stairwell. Aven spent a few seconds trying to figure out what mood she was in. Angry? Offended? God, he hoped she wasn't crying cause he hated that snotty shit. Then he finally approached her. "Hey, beauty." Aven rubbed the back of his head and cleared his throat. "You're too old to be playing runaway princess, you know? Besides, this is your fucking job, not some hobby group. If you can't take a little criticism, maybe you should think about another job." He leaned against the wall. A T-shirt with a minimalist image of Jason and his golden rune stretched across his broad chest as he crossed his arms. "I need to dye my hair. What's my schedule like? You need to find an available window in my schedule so I can sit at the barbershop without you calling me all the time to yell that I'm late for something."