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Chapter one.

Disclaimer: Not mine, nuhu... No one of them... Well, maybe some minor characters, but no more.
Author notes: AU, just that. Read if you wanna know more. And rewiew, please.



“Pari, girlie, slow down, could you?” Logan said, looking up from his guitar, frowning at his manager. She was the best, but sometimes she could talk about things he didn’t give a heck about, and waited him to understand her. “Repeat, please, you want me to go where and sing with who?”
“Such a good butt and so little brain...” Pari sighed. “I want you... well, I really no, the concert patrociners, but I agree with them, to go to this year AIDS’ Charity Concert in New York, to sing some songs from ‘Still the Wolverine’ and sing ‘Bitter World’ with RoRo... Do you remember RoRo, don’t you?”
“Did I fu...” He started to say, but Pari stopped him with a raised hand.
“No, you didn’t. You never met her. She’s the R&B singer who asked for permision to do a version of ‘Bitter World’. We had a discussion about that almost a year ago, I was able to convice you... Do you remember now?”
“Oh, yeah, that posh girl... Did you let her have my song? What the fuck why?” He growled. “You know I don’t like some stupid girl to touch my songs... Are personal, Pari, shit.”
“Cause you let me, Logan! And RoRo isn’t a posh girl, and she did a good job.”
“Did I let you? Fuck, Pari, what did I tell you about getting me drunk to sign things? Call whoever you need to talk to and tell them she can’t sing nothing by me.” He dismissed her with a hand gesture.
“Oh, no, mister! I’m not gonna to. That girl did a good job with the song, and you would know if you listened to it. And you weren’t drunk! Just being an asshole over some bitch who didn’t deserve it, again! Third time that year, shit!”
“Pari...” He growled.
“Don’t growl at me! You know I’m not scared! I’m the only manager who’s able to keep up with all your shit, Logan! But even my patience have limits! The concert is a charity one, shit, and it’s a good way to let more people to know you! Like letting others do versions of your songs!” She yelled, face mere inches from his, gesturing a lot with her hands.
“Ok, ok, do you want to make me more known? Do it, fuck, that’s your job, but don’t go into my personal life, do you hear me?” He said, getting up and going to the kitchen. He grabbed a beer from the fridge and leaned against the counter.
“Oh, yes, I hear you... Like that time, when you and that bitch were yelling at each other... Just dump her already, the whole ‘I write my songs with a heartache’ it’s getting old. And it isn’t good for you.”
“I’m not gonna to. No need for that. She did it. No good enough for her, she said.” Logan sipped half the bottle of beer. “No good enough... Shit, I’m making more money that any other country singer, aren’t I, Pari?”
“Yeah, you are. And that’s the problem. You’re a country singer, not a pop or rock singer... In USA and Canada lots of people loves you, but in the rest of the world few people knows about you... Country isn’t so popular as pop or rock... And Jean wanted you to be a rock start, so she could be in the lights...” Pari sit in a stool by the isle. “When did she dump you?”
“Last night. Think she was going back to her old high school sweetheart... Hear he’s going into politics.” He ended his beer and tossed the bottle into the bin. “Maybe she ends being First Lady, she would like that.”
“And you were alone all night? Damn, Logan, knowing you like I do, you must have been up, out in the open, drinking and smoking. No wonder you look like shit. Why didn’t you call me? Did you eat something, at least?”
“See? That’s why I didn’t call you. No need for you to fuss over me. I’m fine. And I wrote some songs, too. Your next paycheck, are you happy?”
“No, I’m not. Logan, do you forget I was here almost since the begginins of your relation with Jean? I know this must be hard for you, and please, you can save your ‘I’m a though man’ act. That doesn’t work for me. Now, go and fix yourself something to eat. And, for my health, try and really ‘cook’ it, ok?”
Logan snorted, but turned around and opened his fridge again. He managed to put up a mask of ‘I’m not doing it because you ordered it, it was just that you ordered what was in my mind, nothing more’, that Pari didn’t even make the effort to aknowledge. Trut to be told, she was busy cheking his ass.
“Supose I could go...” Came his voice from inside the fridge. “When’s that? Maybe I could take the girls, if I call the child’s refuge with time... They would like New York.”
“That’s the spirit! But Jubes could ruin you in less than an afternoon, though.”
“Yep, she could.” He rummaged a little more into the fridge. “Like what you see, darlin?”
“Trut to be told, yes. As do all the women who go to your concerts... Why do you think you’re so famous?”
“Cause I sing?” He took out some meat and two more beers and turned around, smirking. “I sell CD’s, not calendars.” He started to cook the meat.
“Maybe you should sell calendars. No big difference between it and your booklets.” She get up, looked at her watch and stretched. “Gotta go back to the office... You’re going to go to the concert?”
“Yes.”
“You’re going to eat that and call the kids’ refuge?”
“Yup.” He put the half done meat in a dish and grabbed the beers, sitting in another stool.
“Geez, you’re so communicative sometimes...” She kissed his cheek softly. “If you need something, you know my number, ok? See you tomorrow, you need to start rehearsing for the concert. Go to the study at a normal hour, ok?” She remembered last time she told her to “go early”. He was at the study’s doors at four o’clock in the morning. He waved to her when she went out the door.





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