"Where are we actually going?" I ask looking out of the blacked-out SUV windows, watching the historical London landmarks whiz past the outside of the vehicle.

All I ever hear about London is how cultural and pretty it is but honestly, I really don't understand what makes this place so... special. All I see is tall, old buildings and short, old buildings some of which apparently contain 'masterpieces' according to Will, he seemed to forget his job is to be my manager and not my fucking tour guide when he proceeded to point out one of the buildings and call It the ' Tate Modern'.

"A music bar in central London" Will replies with some trace of enthusiasm in his voice.

I huff and rest my arm against the car door propping my chin upon my knuckles, still staring out the windows at the pedestrians filling the busy sidewalks, they're all wrapped up in big snow coats and thick woolly scarfs even though we are now getting into Febuary. The UK happened to be a lot colder than the humid LA weather I'm accustomed to. From the minute I stepped off the jet at Heathrow I was met with rain and already I could feel my tan start to fade.

"I don't understand why we have to go to this new bar when we could just go to Rouge Lights. I bet they've already got my usual booth ready too." I bring my head up to look out of the front windscreen at the traffic-filled roads. Will raises his eyebrows at me,

"Ah yes, Rouge Lights. The stripper's 'den'." He pauses "It might be nice for one night this tour to break away from the 'usual' and dip your toes in some good culture! Explore the city and interact with more... Uhm...  interesting people- "

I cut him off by screaming,

"Will these cars fucking move!"

Not only is the weather shit but apparently you can't get more than two minutes in London without being stopped in a queue of other road users.

Ignoring my outburst, he carries on lecturing me,

"This is for your benefit anyway Colt."

"How the fuck did you work that out?" I snap at him, confused.

He sighs and turns to face me as I comb my hair, still damp and wild, back with my fingers. I had just come straight off stage snd bundled into the back of this SUV to avoid the after-show press and desperate fans.

"Well if you were listening to me earlier you would have heard me tell you that we're going to this bar to find your new support act for the European and American leg of the tour. The label executives and A&R scouts have been hanging around this bar for the past couple weeks scouting out possible talent. The venue is well known around London for having some of the best new upcoming singers and bands and the scouts seem pretty optimistic about it..."  Will explains. I roll my eyes and turn my head to gaze out of the side window again.

"Well, maybe I don't want a new up and coming 'Londoner' " I mumble using air commas to emphasise my frustration, "Come on Will you're meant to be good at your job. The reason they're performing in a backstreet bar and not sat where I am right now is because they not good enough to get fucking signed; besides maybe I want Jayden to open for me." I say nodding my head in agreement with myself.

Jayden is my best friend who I've grown up with most of my life, we met in High School. I walked in on him messing around on the decks in the music room and we just kind of hit it off, even though our styles of music are pretty different we both knew what it felt like to be connected by music and in a way that bonded us. Jayden is now a top-selling rapper, we both made it big and got signed to the same record label at around the same time.

Will raises his hand to his temple and begins to pinch the skin in-between his finger and thumb, I can see the tension forming in his jaw.

"Well, you can't have Jayden because Jayden is starting his own tour soon. Another thing you would have heard if you were fucking listening!" Frustration becomes evident in his tone as he says the last sentence under his breath.

"The scouts and executives have had their eyes on a few artists over the past few weeks and you're going to listen to them all over the next couple nights, then they're going to make their decision." He continues regaining his calm

Their decision? This is my fucking tour; I should get to pick who I want as my opening act!

"Hold up I don't even get to pick who I want on my tour?" I bark back.

"No. You don't. Because funnily enough, you're not the one paying for your tour. Your label is. What they say goes Colten, you know that. No arguments because we both know they have the power to cancel the tour altogether and cancel you."

I scoff then start to chuckle.

"They wouldn't drop me, I'm too big and I make them too much money for them to just 'cancel me'."

Will turns his head to the window and remains silent, not bothering to argue back with me because we both know is true.

I've been signed to Hassa Records for the past eight years, I got signed just before I turned eighteen. Hassa records are the biggest record label in the world right now, they've produced billionaire artists and sixty-time Grammy-nominated performers. In the last eight years I've been with them I've been nominated for thirty-six Grammys and won twenty-four of them. I've sold five albums, all reaching No.1 in seventy-six countries around the world and I've broken streaming records across every continent. I'm the biggest thing in music right now and practically everyone knows who I am.

Sheepishly Will turns his head to look over at me, assessing my current facial expression before apprehensively saying,

"These artists also perform their own stuff. Tessa and Jerome have also charged the scouts with finding some new... songwriters... to write for your new album...since you scared the last ones away."

I bite down hard on my back molars, grinding my jaw. Tessa and Jerome are the founders and current owners of Hassa Records. They control everything and everyone... they also only allow other people, strangers, to write my own songs even though I know I am perfectly capable of writing my own stuff. They just don't trust me, none of the executives do. The only person who does have an ounce of respect for me is Will, and most of the time I treat him like crap. He tells me I only have myself to blame due to my 'bachelor lifestyle', but that's bullshit when it comes to my own music, I've never given them a reason not to trust me in that department.

I let my head fall back onto the headrest and close my eyes, I spend the rest of the car journey listening to the soft rumbles of the engine and muffled giggles of people falling out of the clubs onto the streets.

About fifteen minutes of dense traffic later we pull up next to a row of bars and restaurants down one of the sketchy looking backroads.

I moan as Will climbs out the side of the car holding the door open for me to follow him out. I push myself out of the car and already I'm met by a few bright flashes. How the fuck do they even know where I am, I don't even know where I am. Fucking vultures. I squint away from the white lights and feel a pair of hands guiding me towards the entrance of the bar. I manage to look up at the pink neon sign sitting on the front of the building, it read "NIKIS', the 's' light trailing off to make the shape of a little neon guitar.

The pair of hands guide me through the door under the sign and into a dark looking corridor, a red glow peeking in through the sides of the floor. My vision begins to focus again after being temporarily blinded by the Press, I get a good look at the man who had bought me in, he was now in front of me and had let go of my arm. He leads us down a series of suspicious-looking corridors. I study the back of him as we walk on, he must have been at least 6ft 5, very large but bulked out with muscles, I'm a muscly guy but this dude... he even intimidated me. Only a bit though.

He flashes me a white toothy grin as he leads us into a large room full of people jumping and 'dancing' to the tracks the DJ on the stage was playing. I had expected the bar to be a hell of a lot smaller, but it was actually quite big, decked out with booths and what looked like a more exclusive section on a Perspex balcony, overlooking the centre of the room which was being used as a dance floor. The bar was very rustic with old hardwood flooring and walls lined with random music memorabilia, or more neon signs. One wall was completely covered in a range of guitars, old, new, electric, acoustic. You name it, they were all there. Fairy lights dangled from the ceiling giving it a very homely feeling in comparison to the red LED lit corridors we just came through. My eyes snap back to the woman who has appeared in front of will and I.

"Your friends are waiting in the booth over there Mr Hudson", the short woman says.

She was wearing a leather looking skirt and a black lace corset, which defined her already tiny waist. Her hair was a cheap-looking bleach blonde and was backcombed within an inch of its life, but she had a welcoming face that told me she must have been in her mid-thirties. She nervously smiled at Will before turning to me and continuing,

"I must say it's an absolute pleasure to be hosting a musical icon such as yourself, Mr Jax, in here tonight" she holds out her hand towards me, I take it cautiously.

"I promise you won't be disappointed with the talent we showcase here! Anyway, my names Niki and if you need anything at all just holler" she chuckles nervously and begins leading Will over to the booth full of smartly dressed executives.

Fuck me, her energetic welcoming was enough to tire me out and I hadn't even met the big boss men yet. I reach the table as Will begins greeting everyone and starts shaking their hands, I'm about to sit down when a group of young women saunter past the table in their thigh-high boots and tall stilettos wearing outfits that left practically nothing to the imagination. I lock eyes with one of the girls wearing a skin-tight snake print dress and wink at her, she giggles and flutters her eyelids before strutting into the mass crowd of people on the dance floor. I grin, maybe tonight won't be as shit as I thought.

I take that back. I've been sat at this table for the past three fucking hours, knocking back endless glasses of whisky while I try and look like I'm listening to what the scouts are saying about each new artist that takes the stage and fills the room with their 'original' shit.

There's no way I can survive another ten minutes of this trivial bullshit without getting completely wasted. I pick up another glass of whisky from the tray that's just been set down in front of us, I tip my head back letting the liquid slide through my lips and letting it burn its way down the back of my throat, ignoring the sceptical glares from across the table. I set the empty glass back on the tray with a thud and smile at the uptight middle-aged men. Will suddenly grabs my arm and puts his lips close to my ear,

"I think you've had enough now Colt; they're going to start to think some sort of functioning alcoholic!"

I rip my arm away from his grasp with such force it startles him. I then purposely pick up another glass from the tray and knock it back looking him straight in his eyes. He turns away in humiliation, eyes bowed from the rest of the table and then shakes his head.

"So uhh Colton what did you think of the last Guitarist?" One of the scouts pipes up from the end of the table.

With liquid courage running through my veins I forget to filter my next sentence.

"Well it doesn't fucking matter what I think, does it? You're going to end up choosing one without me anyway, so my input means absolutely fuckkk allll" I spit with aggression slurring my last few words.

The suited men turn to look at me, some with disbelief, some with confusion and some just glare at me with downright anger that I dare speak up against them like that. Will bows his head further in what I can presume to be shame and then grabs a glass of amber liquid, holding it between his fingers before throwing it down his neck. I follow suit and take yet another glass of whisky and copy him, throwing it down my neck as I scan the still very populated crowd.  My eyes catch sight of the tight snake-skin dress, they wander down her body and back up to her face, she's caught me staring but I don't care, I just wink at her. She holds my gaze as she starts grinding on her friend who's now also smirking at me. Fuck I need to get laid. I shove my hands down onto the bench in the booth and begin to propel myself up, swaying slightly, gaining my balance as I tower over the table full of empty glasses.

"I need to piss," I say bluntly as I head off into the direction of the two girls now practically dry humping each other on the dancefloor.

I spend the next couple of minutes dancing with the girls or rather dancing in-between them. I glance over at the table where the executives are now looking rather uncomfortable with my behaviour.  With the alcohol running laps through my blood I no longer cared what those prudish fucks think. Right now, I'd be balls deep inside one of the girls from Rouge Lights, usually Rachel- the one with the perky tits and tiny waist. I'm getting more worked up thinking about Rachel whilst being sandwiched between two girls. This was a dangerous game and I could practically feel my dick growing behind my zipper. If I don't take these girls somewhere fast, I'm going to explode. One of the girls, the one with her tongue in my mouth, almost senses my urgency and pulls away to whisper into my ear...

"Your place or mine?"

Usually, I take girls back to the hotel I'm staying in if I've got an early flight out or I'll either rent a new room so I can leave when I'm done. Far less hassle than being caught leaving some random chicks place. I whisper in her ear 'mine' then pull away to wink at her. She blushes then tuns to whisper in her friends' ear, her friend just nods at me eagerly.

I begin to turn around to start walking towards the exit but as I do, I'm met with a small weight that pummels into my chest. I feel something wet and cold seep through my shirt onto my torso. I snap my head down towards the floor where a short server is now laying on the hardwood oak, surrounded by shards of broken glass and covered in amber liquid and ice. I look down at my own shirt to find its completely soaked with a red strong-smelling liquid.

My sexual frustration quickly turns into rage, but I still find the decency to reach out my hand in the attempt to help her up, in a matter of seconds I've gone to wasted and horny to completely sober and aware of the fucking mess this girl has just made. The rage is only fuelled more when she swats my hand away and glares at me as if I just fucked her sister.  I furrow my brows as my anger threatens to boil over when she begins shouting at me, blaming me for 'smashing into her'.

I look down at her, her hair is now matted and soaked in what I can presume is whisky, her skimpy 'uniform' is soaked and there's clear liquid trickling down from her alcohol-soaked skirt onto her smooth tanned legs and into her heeled boots. Her cold blue sparkly eyes stare deep into my own piquing my interest. Her full, red-painted lips smash together as she continues hurling insults at me. My eyes trail down her tiny uniform that's tight on her body, accentuating her fucking sexy curves, curves that are in all the right places. I would totally smash that if I could just get her to shut the fuck up, but no, this girl is getting on my nerves now. She's ruined my $5000-dollar shirt and she has the nerve to say it's my fault. No fucking way. I'm not having that.

We continue arguing back and forth which seems to capture the attention of her colleague's as a tall, lanky dude comes up beside her and starts to pick the glass off the floor placing it into a black bucket, I turn to him and say,

"I'd fire her ass if I were you dude, no fucking manners or even the slightest concept of what customer service is" my eyes meet her chest as I finish, "Or self-respect considering the way she's dressed."

I've obviously hit a sore spot as her expression darkens. I see her tiny fists clench at the sides of her body, if I wasn't so fucking angry, I'd be laughing at how feisty the little spitfire is. Just as she's about to start up again I feel an arm swing around my neck and feel a hand slap me in the chest. I swing my head around to see Jayden standing there in all his glory.  I can feel his eyes unapologetically run up and down the server's body, stopping at her areas of interest.

"Ay fuck that bro, I'd tap that, just muzzle it first" he chuckles from beside me.

The spitfire's expression widens in shock but is soon replaced by disgust and then anger. Her fists balled tighter at her side, she looked like she's about to swing her fist into me and try and deck me one... I mean...she could try but I doubt her arms would even reach my chest.

I see the dude that bought me into the bar earlier come up behind her, he avoids eye contact with me as he tries to take the girl out, she reluctantly lets him drag her back through the crowd. I'm defended by the sound of my heart, beating loudly with anger in my ears.

I'm left standing in a pool of alcohol as I watch the other man, still crouched on the ground, Put the remaining bits of glass into a bucket. I'm so pissed right now I've completely forgotten about the two girls behind me. I whip my head around to look behind me causing Jayden, who was leaning on my shoulder to lose his balance slightly. The girls had disappeared. They'd probably gone to find someone else to fuck.

My brows furrowed further together, my muscles in my jaw clenching together. Not only has this bitch ruined my five-thousand-dollar shirt she has ruined my night and my chance to get lucky with some fine pieces of ass. I'm raging. I'm surprised I wasn't growing bull horns because I'm ready to charge at someone.

"Wow, when Will text me and told me you were completely smashed and quite possibly would become a liability, I did not think this Is what he meant. You look like you've gone 12 rounds with Hannibal Lecter." He laughs looking down at my shirt. I shrug his arm off my neck violently and stomp across the room to the door.

I can hear Jayden laughing at me, as he shouts,

"She was fucking fit though bro! Couldn't you have at least let me have a go on her once before you pissed her off" his laugh gets deeper as I flip him off and waltz out of the exit.

Hey guys! First of all, apologies if there are any grammar or spelling mistakes! Please feel free to comment some constructive criticisms!

This chapter was an insight into Colton's character and how he felt about the whole 'incident'! I hope you all got a feel for what he's like... an ass is probably the best way to describe him.

Thank you all for reading! Hope you stick with me! See you in the next chapter.

Iz x