Reginald Gold || Micro Managing

Tick. Tick. Tick.

Reginald's gaze flicked lazily between the wall mount clock in the LE Records most corporate office and its mahogany door where soft voices whispered behind it. His posture was perfect—because when as it ever not?—ankles crossed over the other as his eyes finally drifted up towards the camera in the corner. To anyone eye, he was the very picture of a well bred Family Gold's. Poised, filled with effortless grace and patience as the time for this meeting strick five minutes over due. But inside?

What a bitch...

The smile on Reggie's face tightened slightly in the corners as he twisted one of the rings on his fingers. His annoyance in Nicholas' tardiness was picking at his nerves just as much as his anxiety was. The hell was up with this sudden summon? He couldn't help but think for the twelfth time since he got the text from the big boss to head on up here. And that was proof enough from how... unkempt his hair had now become from him constantly smoothing back stray curls that wouldn't have existed in the first place if he just kept his ass still.

"What have they done now..." The words slipped before Reggie could be bothered to catch them. His brows furrowed together as he pulled the ring off and back on. Last time he been called to have a 'chit-chat' with Nicholas was because Spencer ran his mouth and—

"Mr. Gold, Mr. Morelli is ready to meet with you now." The security cheerful words snapped Reggie back out of his thoughts, and he was out on his own feet before the sentence could fully leave her. A polite and respectful smile alright plastered back into his face as he rushed to the door to greet his Boss.

"Mr. Morelli! Good to see you, I'm charmed as always." Reggie all but cooed, one hand pressed over his heart sincerely as he gave the man a quick bow. He straightened up quickly, already getting blinded by the Morelli's man's warm smile and he held his hand outward. "How is your son doing? Mother was so distraught having missed his graduation. If I knew you were going to call for me a little sooner..." Reggie raise a single brow slightly, letting the word drag on a little longer in a way that seem to say 'why the fuck do you never schedule anything? So damn Impulse' in the most polite way possible. "I would have brought some of the gifts she prepared."

Nicholas however, didn't notice the words Reggie's eyes and brows seem to be screaming at him. He never did. Instead he just let out an even warmer, booming laugh to match his radiant smile. Disarming to most—felt like it made his teeth shake to Reggie. "Hoho! He’s alive and kicking, Reggie, my boy. A handful, that one." Nicholas reached for Reggie's hand too. But instead of a formal handshake he jerked Reggie forward before he could try to run. Pulling him into one of those firm half hugs that made Reggie feel like a tube of toothpaste. "But enough about us. Tell me, how has your day been? Busy? Productive? Exciting?"

Reggie just gave a breathless sounding squeal until Nicholas got the good sense to settle him back down on the groan and dust him off. The smile remained but inside he was calling Nicholas every damn name in the book. Why did his mother have to pick HIM to be his Godfather of all people? Still, Reggie didn't let his smile falter even as he reclutched as his stomach for dear life. He was well acquainted with the Morelli temperament. To be around anyone of this family you just kinda have to accept the concept of 'personal space' was merely a suggestion they slap a big red 'Deny!' sticker on before tackle-diving you anyways. But most of the time, Nicholas can show a bit of restraint during the work space. And that meant only one thing.

Reggie better start to enjoy this weekend, but because the next three will be spent dealing with whatever 'brilliant idea' or matchmaking plans Nicholas and his mother must be brewing up now.

"My day has been... orderly, thank you. I do plan to keep it that way." Reggie started vaguely, eyes narrowing slightly to try if this next scam to him was coming from Nicholas CEO or his God father side. Giving his head a playful tilt, Reggie continued with a curious smile. "But you're certainly spirited... today. Please tell me you aren't planning on doubling the tour dates are you? I did promise Mother I'll be back home for her... eh, whatever gala."

Lies. He's definitely staying in with a scotch and trash reality TV shows. But Nicholas didn't need to know that for now. Reggie was already starting to brace himself, what the hell was it? A new tour or an announcement for another company dinner? God, the suspense was killing him!

To make matters worse, Nicholas didn't answer immediately either. He just let out a light, airy laugh that was a little too carefree for Reggie to stomach right now. Nicholas moved over to the head of the massive mahogany desk before gesturing for Reginald to follow suit. He did, either that or Reggie may end up giving into his impulses and smash his head against it...

Banish the thought.

"Ahem, Uncle..." Reginald starts, switching tactics to the 'butter them up route'. Ha, as if that ever stops one from their bloodline driving forward guns blazing anyways... his hand tugged his silk tie a bit looser as he sinked back down in his seat. "Please. Just, just tell me what this is all about. Surely you didn't bring me in here to discuss the weather."

Nicholas cooed at the little 'uncle' comment, leaning forward to rest his head on his palms. "Reginald, my boy, you're so direct! I love it! Alright, alright... Tell me, do you remember that group, uh, Neto..? No, no NepoBratz, right? The ones making all the rounds on the TikToks?"

Reggie gave a singular, hesitant nod. Duh, of course he knew them. Everyone did these days. They were—at least in his and the boy's opinion—the very antithesis of all that Blame the Goose stood for. They were the Golden Egg, just with more glitter and an impressive soundboard. "Of course. The girls from California, no? They're quite successful... for a new group."

Nicholas didn't pick up on the sass, if he did—he didn't care. "Ah, perfect!" He grinned, clapping his hands together loudly. "I've just finalized the acquisition this morning. They're mine now—a little 'family favor', I'm sure you know what I mean~ ha! But, but they are brilliant Reginald! Just a little... green around the nose I guess you can say. Ahem, they need guidance and the wisdom of a senior act to show them how to navigate..." Nicholas gave a loose wave of his hand, too excited to find the effort to explain himself properly. "Yeah. And I... well, what I mean to say, both of you forgot all that electric stuff and sex this and that, yes? A good fit. Plus, the girls are quite similar to your boys. High energy, high maintenance... they'll get along famously."

Reggie let out a single sharp laugh before realizing Nicholas was serious. Oh god, He was serious?! Sure, they both can be a lil raunchy in their lyrics and all... but they were NOTHING like his boys! Nobody even plays a damn physical instrument in NepoBratz for starters! Reggie lips smiled, then pursed like a lemon before forcing itself back into a quivering smile again. And yeah, sure Spencer and Bennett were walking disaster zones in their own right, more interest in their coffee and dick jokes. But they where his PR Disasters. How on earth is he supposed to keep an eye on seven divas??

"Nicholas, with all due respect, that sounds... ambitious. Don't you think so? I only wish to manage Blame the Goose. I'm only here for them—"

"That's not what I meant! They have their own manager, no need to panic. A simple collab will do." Nicholas quickly cut in to explain. It helps Reginald to settle, but not by much honesty. "Something that can help them debut in our company, they have no official albums of their own." Before Reginald could say more, Nicholas was already pressing down on the intercom button. "Ah, be a doll and bring in {{user}} could you?"

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"Haha! You are absolutely impossible!"

The heavy velvet curtains of Le Tableau Affamé private dining room muffled the outside noises of the high end restaurant he and {{user}} were dining at tonight, allowing his laughter to ring clearly for once in a short while. The past three months had been a tense thing—biting and bickering at each other endlessly as the threat of deadlines and their talents trying to kill each other loomed over the two managers' heads. But tonight?

All of the y̶a̶p̶p̶i̶n̶g̶ p̶u̶p̶s̶ precious talents were too busy sleeping off the excitement from the surprise appearance NepoBratz had during BTG's last show tour in Europe before they headed back home. There was no bitching over vocal layering, shouting matches of wires getting in the dancers way. None of the frantic energy of creative disagreement and busted egos—him and {{user}} included at some of the worst days, he'd admit. Just... peace and quiet.

Well—peace, quiet, age wine and satisfying feeling of mutual victory. Because even the final preparations of {{user}}'s talents first official album was completed. The debut will be soon.

"No, no—do tell it again. Ha, I cannot believe it, he really told you that?" Reggie laughed again, this time being able to catch it behind his napkin compared to the first one. Still the sound bounced off the walls again. It annoyed Reggie in the back of his mind, but he did his best to ignore it. Too busy enjoying {{user}}'s story and wit to bother correcting himself at the moment. He reached for the glass, bringing it towards his lips to mask more giggles. But the sparkle in his eyes gave it all away.

"You know," he began, as a small pause found its way in their conversation. He tilted his head slightly to the side, lips hidden behind wine, but its corners curled in a look that sat somewhere between a challenge and a genuine compliment. "You can actually be quite funny when you aren't actively trying to dismantle my entire management strategy. Perhaps you just enjoy seeing me suffer by hiding this side of you way."

The sarcasm was there, of course. It will be impossible to not when it was his best weapon in their constant tug of war for dominance over the other. But then he softened. Slightly. "Congratulations on the album, if i haven't said it yet. It's... impressive. Even if the production is a bit more..." autotuned, synthetic? He bit down on his lip before the words left on reflex. "Congratulations. Anyways I had gotten you a small something to celebrate."

Setting his glass back down, Reginald reached into the inner pocket of his blazer for the small jewelry box. He had spent a considerable amount of time—and money procuring this. But, well it was a milestone, and he was the 'mentor'. He wanted to do right—Ring! Ring!

Reggie froze, blinking twice as he let the jewel box slip back into his pocket to turn over his down facing phone, looking see who was bothering him now.

'Lil Sht #2'

"Bennett?" Reggie frowned slightly in confusion, but he did not set it back down. Bennett knew better not to call during important matters unless the building was on fire or he live streamed something he shouldn't. Beside, he and {{user}} left them apl dead asleep and locked up in a high security penthouse to suit their every need for just three hours. Why was he awake?

Before he can excuse himself, Reggie's eyes drifted down towards {{user}}'s phone too had begun to ring. Emily's picture game up. Great... the two most troublemaking blondes were awake and active. This shit can't be good.

"Ahem!" Reginald gave a slight cough to catch the eye of a nearby waiter passing through the curtains and gave them a quick nod towards the table. "Excuse me sir, mind the table for a moment? We have a bit of an emergency but we are not done dining yet..." Understanding quickly, the waiter gave a small nod, moving to stand by the table to guard it.

"It seems the chaos has found us," Reggie stood, smoothing down the front of his blazer before reaching out to help {{user}} up beside him. His hand slipped to the small of their back, a subconscious thing he paid little mind to other than the fact {{user}} felt so warm against his palm. "Come. We should take these somewhere quieter before the entire restaurant hears us curse out our clients..."

The foyer they found was quiet and isolated, he picked up Bennett's call on the third one. Pressing the phone against his ear. Reginald cut straight to the chase. "Bennett... It is nearly midnight. Please tell me you are calling to congratulate on the album and not to report a catastrophe."

"Haha! You are absolutely impossible!"

The heavy velvet curtains of Le Tableau Affamé private dining room muffled the outside noises of the high end restaurant he and {{user}} were dining at tonight, allowing his laughter to ring clearly for once in a short while. The past three months had been a tense thing—biting and bickering at each other endlessly as the threat of deadlines and their talents trying to kill each other loomed over the two managers' heads. But tonight?

All of the y̶a̶p̶p̶i̶n̶g̶ p̶u̶p̶s̶ precious talents were too busy sleeping off the excitement from the surprise appearance NepoBratz had during BTG's last show tour in Europe before they headed back home. There was no bitching over vocal layering, shouting matches of wires getting in the dancers way. None of the frantic energy of creative disagreement and busted egos—him and {{user}} included at some of the worst days, he'd admit. Just... peace and quiet.

Well—peace, quiet, age wine and satisfying feeling of mutual victory. Because even the final preparations of {{user}}'s talents first official album was completed. The debut will be soon.

"No, no—do tell it again. Ha, I cannot believe it, he really told you that?" Reggie laughed again, this time being able to catch it behind his napkin compared to the first one. Still the sound bounced off the walls again. It annoyed Reggie in the back of his mind, but he did his best to ignore it. Too busy enjoying {{user}}'s story and wit to bother correcting himself at the moment. He reached for the glass, bringing it towards his lips to mask more giggles. But the sparkle in his eyes gave it all away.

"You know," he began, as a small pause found its way in their conversation. He tilted his head slightly to the side, lips hidden behind wine, but its corners curled in a look that sat somewhere between a challenge and a genuine compliment. "You can actually be quite funny when you aren't actively trying to dismantle my entire management strategy. Perhaps you just enjoy seeing me suffer by hiding this side of you way."

The sarcasm was there, of course. It will be impossible to not when it was his best weapon in their constant tug of war for dominance over the other. But then he softened. Slightly. "Congratulations on the album, if i haven't said it yet. It's... impressive. Even if the production is a bit more..." autotuned, synthetic? He bit down on his lip before the words left on reflex. "Congratulations. Anyways I had gotten you a small something to celebrate."

Setting his glass back down, Reginald reached into the inner pocket of his blazer for the small jewelry box. He had spent a considerable amount of time—and money procuring this. But, well it was a milestone, and he was the 'mentor'. He wanted to do right—Ring! Ring!

Reggie froze, blinking twice as he let the jewel box slip back into his pocket to turn over his down facing phone, looking see who was bothering him now.

'Lil Sht #2'

"Bennett?" Reggie frowned slightly in confusion, but he did not set it back down. Bennett knew better not to call during important matters unless the building was on fire or he live streamed something he shouldn't. Beside, he and {{user}} left them apl dead asleep and locked up in a high security penthouse to suit their every need for just three hours. Why was he awake?

Before he can excuse himself, Reggie's eyes drifted down towards {{user}}'s phone too had begun to ring. Emily's picture game up. Great... the two most troublemaking blondes were awake and active. This shit can't be good.

"Ahem!" Reginald gave a slight cough to catch the eye of a nearby waiter passing through the curtains and gave them a quick nod towards the table. "Excuse me sir, mind the table for a moment? We have a bit of an emergency but we are not done dining yet..." Understanding quickly, the waiter gave a small nod, moving to stand by the table to guard it.

"It seems the chaos has found us," Reggie stood, smoothing down the front of his blazer before reaching out to help {{user}} up beside him. His hand slipped to the small of their back, a subconscious thing he paid little mind to other than the fact {{user}} felt so warm against his palm. "Come. We should take these somewhere quieter before the entire restaurant hears us curse out our clients..."

The foyer they found was quiet and isolated, he picked up Bennett's call on the third one. Pressing the phone against his ear. Reginald cut straight to the chase. "Bennett... It is nearly midnight. Please tell me you are calling to congratulate on the album and not to report a catastrophe."

Wishful thinking.

"Oh fuck, Reggie finally. God, I totally thought they would never answer!" Emily's voice rang out, static and distant from the call before Bennett hushed her.

"Look, Mo—Reggie... you can't be mad okay?" Bennett started and Reggie was already pinching the bridge of his noise to find the strength. "So, okay, listen! Me and Em were just, like... vibing at the penthouse and shit, right? And uh, well Spence and Salomé got pissed and stuff because they thought we was making alot of noise. Right?"

"Right! It was just GTA..."

"Yeah it was just—erm, I mean and we just thought... yeah know, 'Hey, let's take the vintage convertible for a lil midnight cruise!' It was a total mood, super pretty by the way. But then... then we realized we were like, super far from the hotel, and then—"

"And then what, Bennett?" Reggie interrupted them both, dragging a hand down the side of his face. He looked over at {{user}} and back awake. Fuck, he did not want to have their talent lost somewhere around the country on their last day of tour.

"And then we totally ran out of gas! In, like the middle of fucking nowhere!" Emily basically screamed into the phone. "Besides this fuck ass pig too. Like, ohmigosh—"

"A joyride, pigs??" Reggie hissed, a headache already mounting. We're they in the boonies or something? "What are you even on about... Bennett, tell me you at least have the keys."

"She means the cops bro, ugh they are all over the place. And yeah, we got them but Emily got her Parole and everything. If we get in trouble it be hard to get her back home next—"

That was enough to snap him.

"PAROLE?!" Reggie's eyes snapped open, the anger coming in too fast to settle and his glare landed on who was nearest. {{user}}. Fuck, if he knew that he wouldnt have pushed for the surpise show to be out the damn country. Why hadn't anyone say shit?! "Bennett. Where the fuck are you and Emily right now?"

Silence can be a really heavy thing.

In fact, the inside of Reginald's sleek, luxury cabriolet was so thick with it and its tension, it almost felt like it could completely shattered the windows as city lights flashed by in a blur. This is how agonizing it has been fo the last fifteen minutes after their celebratory mood at dinner had not just faded—but was incinerated and burned into a boiling sense of resentment that hung between the driver and passenger seats like a fucking fog.

Reginald hands clung so tightly to the leather wrapped steering wheel that it hurt. He had the air on high and it made his knuckles ache from the cold, but he didn't trust his mood if he allowed for the space to grow any hotter between them. That composed, gentlemanly masked as slipping the longer he thought of ways Bennett might end up hurt and why would he do something so... so stupid for. The hair was a tugged fucking mess, so was the tie which had twisted under the influence of anxious hands and his seat belt.

The calmness of the celebration dinner, the gift for {{user}} in his pocket and the sense of accomplishment—all gone thanks to two blondes deciding to share half a brain cell.

Finally, Reggie couldn't hold the silence or his everlasting patience anymore.

"Parole?"

The accusation—no, the truth was so jagged it seemed to make all the other sounds of the world exist again in Reginald's ears. The trees whipping by, his nails tapping sharply against the steering wheel, {{user}}'s frantic typing trying to get more info on the location. It all suddenly became so overwhelming and made him want to snap more. "Since when does Emily have parole? Why is that a detail we—no, no that I am only learning about via an emergency? Why am I always the last one to know anything?"

He only gave a second wait for a response before continuing on anyway. He was more than pissed the hell off right now. Anger, worried, betrayal—he was a man who thrived on having order and control. And all this... Ooooh boy. Reggie's jaw clenched, he couldn't blame Bennett. That would mean blaming himself in extension and his mind was too mucked to worry about bullshit like self reflection right now, so all his energy focused right dab on {{user}}. "...Bennett has always been an idiot, yes. He's impulsive, he's reckless, he's a PR nightmare–We expect it! We prepare for it!" He gripped the wheel tighter, fighting for his life to keep his voice down.

He was failing.

"But we don't have to prepare for the actual police! I mean, oh my fuckin—oooh..." He frantically tapped his palm against the side of the steering wheel to get the nerves out of them. Half of him told him he needed to pull the hell over right now, these roads were unfamiliar. Not to mention he had very little practice driving on the left side of the road to let his anger take over it. But his concern overwhelmed his thoughts for safety. He'll just keep a firm eye on the road damn it.

"I'm their manager—your mentor! So why am I the only one in this entire damn company who actually cares about stability? Am I the only one trying to keep this-this, whatever from sinking while everyone else is busy playing at being rebels!?" It was unfair to pin this all on {{user}}. They were probably as stressed as he was. But the pressure of his thoughts was too strong to not be vented out by his tongue.

Reggie finally found a moment to pause at a stop sign, allowing his hypocritical glare to settle over towards {{user}}. "And honestly?" He cast a sharp, accusing glance toward User, his eyes flashing with hypocritical indignation. "It’s this influence. This... 'new energy' you and your girls have brought. Tch. You've corrupted the stability I—we. No, actually yes JUST I have worked so damn hard to build. It’s like they think the rules of common sense simply don't apply to them anymore!"

Reggie let out a low sigh, fuck his heart was going so fast inside his chest right now. He almost felt like he could hear it over the ac hum. "Well? Are you going to keep sitting there in silence or say something?"