"It’s so hot. San Francisco never gets this hot. How do people live like this? Why do people live like this?" Vishal complained while holding a cold water bottle to his head as he flopped onto the small table in front of him.
His handso face was dotted with sweat, and his thick hair had begun sticking to his skin.
"Slurrrrrrrrrrrrp! Is it?" Ari asked while sipping the slushy he had gotten from one of the staff mbers.
They were seated in the outdoor seating area of a hotel casino, waiting for the production staff to set up what they needed to busk.
Unlike the usual March temperatures in Las Vegas, which were usually around 75 F (23 C), it was close to 100 degrees with the sun blaring down on top of them, as people busily walked through Fremont Street.
So tourists stopped to take photos of them, as seven handso boys and one person wearing a strange green mask gathered in one location and lounged together while a film crew set up the necessary caras and equipnt to film for the next two hours.
They were curious about what was going on, but seeing as it hadn’t started, so people walked off.
"Truly, I don’t understand why you’re not sweating in the tracksuit and that mask. I’m boiling and I’m wearing short sleeves."
"It’s cause I’m so cool."
Well, it was because of the otterly adorable tracksuit, but nobody needed to know that.
At Ari’s dry joke, Mathew frowned as he fanned himself, "Eww. Never joke like that again. But, seriously, what’s taking them so long? We’ve been sitting for 30 minutes already."
Ari turned to look at Benjamin and William, who were talking to Kate, the writer who had tried to murder him while driving him to the hospital.
Her face had turned red from the heat, and she seed a bit frazzled as she seed to be trying to explain sothing to them, while another staff mber was talking to a mixed gender group of people wearing matching white tracksuits with red bucket hats.
The group carried speakers, large boards, and several cases and speakers that seed to be their equipnt, and the person who seed to be the leader, a tall, lean black boy with long black dreadlocks with red tips, was arguing passionately while pointing at their group.
Ari couldn’t hear what he was saying, but it was clear he disagreed heavily.
"What is happening? I’m sure the other groups are performing already and have already gotten people to buy tickets and register for the app. Are we going to get penalized?"
"Probably. Regardless, everybody say cheese. You’re on cara." Ari turned to face a very familiar film director who looked a bit upset seeing them lounging on the seats.
Ari t his eyes and made a peace sign as he waved before turning back toward Benjamin and William, who had been approached by the guy wearing a white tracksuit.
"Seriously, what’s the issue?"
"I’m tired and hungry. Can soone go find out what’s going on? Or if we can go eat? Sothing slls good." Haruto complained while Nile used a napkin to fan himself while trying to look pretty for the cara.
"Slurpppp, let go see." Ari lazily stood up and walked over.
"Ben, what’s the issue?"
"Seems to be a mix up innit. Both of our groups got permits for the sa ti slot, and they don’t want to leave even though we got here first." Benjamin replied without looking away at the boy with the dreadlocks arguing with the staff mber.
As if he had been waiting, the boy turned to face Benjamin and began yelling.
"Oi, British boy, say the truth! We were here first, and the rule is first co, first served!"
"First of all, Willie, say my na properly, yeah? And why’s a yardie like you interrupting a conversation between two proper lads? If I wanted your two pence’s worth of an opinion I’d ask for it." Benjamin replied in a sharp tone, his smile colder than it usually was.
"Oh, you’re feeling fancy just cause you’re currently ranked first in so popstar show. Thought you wanted to be a rapper, not so trash pop singer."
"You’re bucking up at the wrong person, brudda. Your anger is not with , so I suggest you resolve your issues with our staff mbers instead of spouting nonsense, yeah? There’s bare people around, and you’re embarrassing yourself." Benjamin glanced around, noticing that a few people were stopping to watch the interaction while pulling their phones out.
"I’m not your brother, and the only person that should be embarrassed is you. Selling out to beco a popstar. Tsk. I’ve always said UK rap isn’t real rap, and you’re clearly proving it." The boy in the white tracksuit spat onto the ground, and Benjamin let out a sharp laugh before stepping back with both hands.
"Whatever helps you sleep at night, I guess."
"Please calm down! Both of you. It seems there’s a mistake, so let’s try to figure it out!" Kate stepped in the middle with the other staff mber, trying to calm the other group down.
"I told you there’s no mistake! We were here first. You can ask the casino to pull the security footage so you all can F*ck off!"
"Please. Let’s talk it out!"
"So, I’m assuming you know each other?" Ari glanced at Benjamin before watching the argunt show while sipping his smoothie.
William seed to want to say his peace as well as he stepped up beside Kate and began trying to argue with the other group.
"More or less? They’re Kosmic Krew. A mixed group that’s known in the LA underground scene for dance and singing. I’ve t and beaten a few of them, including Willie at rap cyphers, and speaking of which, Mathew should probably know a few of them since they’ve danced for the sa artists and gone to the sa studios a couple of tis. I think a couple of them were at World of Dance as well."
Benjamin turned to glance back at Mathew, but the boy was no longer sitting at the table.
A quick glance at his watch told him it was the regular ti that he went to the bathroom to check his blood sugar, so Benjamin just stared back at Willie and his crew.
The situation seed to have cald down a bit, but then he heard Williams’ irritating Boston accent rile the situation back up.
"Fine. Since you’re playing hard to get, what’s the price? How much is it? I’ll pay you all off to get out of here since it’s clearly money that you’re looking for."
At William’s arrogant words as he pulled out a wallet, flashing a black credit card and several hundred-dollar bills, the eyes of the Kosmic Krew imdiately ignited with anger.
"You think you can just buy us off, you bastard?"
"Obviously."
Gasp.
Without even taking a breath, William continued speaking in a condescending tone.
"It’s clear that you’re here to make money by performing, so how much were you expecting to make? I’ll pay it so you all can get out of our hair. We have important things to do."
"And you think what you’re doing is more important than what we’re doing?"
"Well, only one of us was talented enough to get on this show, right? So state your price. How much to get you out of here?"
At Williams’ sharp words, Ari could only close his eyes while taking a deep breath.
What the hell was wrong with this blonde boy?
Why was he hell bent on making matters worse???
As Ari was contemplating whether it was too late to knock William out and drag him away, a blue screen filled his vision.
[Ding!]
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