“I don’t know what I’m gonna do! I have to get to the studio tomorrow.”
“Guess you’re gonna have to call a cab,” Sid suggested.
“Or, I dunno, drive yourself?” Boyt added, smirking.
Boyt raised his chin, glaring at the producer. He was two inches taller without his boots. With them, he was nearly six foot four. RJ was muscular, Boyt was ripped, a fact his uniform emphasized. Tipping his hat forward, he leaned in with his foot on the bottom step of the porch.
“I know I didn’t just hear you insult my mama.”
“Sorry….” RJ scurried into the house and slammed the door shut in their faces.
© 2019 Dellani Oakes