"I said blue M&Ms," Bobby Soul flung a bowl of candy at the wall.
The venue owner apologizes and turns her frustration on her assistant. Demanding to know why the orders on the rider were not filled precisely. Bobby Soul was a superstar and he needed to be treated that way. As Bobby pouted in his private dressing room his entourage added fuel to the flames; they swore Bobby wouldn't perform until he got his candy.
This was the first moment Bobby had alone in what seemed like forever. Fifty-seven shows in a three month summer, every last one of them sold out. Bobby was now a verifiable superstar. He was surrounded by luxury, new friends and beautiful faces. Still, he felt more alone than every before. He was lashing out, not just because he wanted to, but because everyone expected him to.
"I don't know what to do dad," Bobby spoke into the phone.
"Did you get paid for the show," his father asked.
"Yeah, of course. Half up front, just like you taught me."
"The fans there?"
"Yes sir," Bobby nodded.
"Then what's the problem?"
"They didn't fill everything on the rider. The manager is upset. I threw a bowl of candy," Bobby felt shame as he spoke.
"Fuck are you doing boy," his dad asked.
"I don't know. That's what Rich Ronnie told me to do," Bobby was confused by his own actions.
"When we first started doing shows what were our demands?"
"Working equipment, and cold water."
"Was it fancy bottled water, or sparkling water?"
"No sir."
"So let me get this right, you got cold water. A hot crowd, good equipment, not just working."
"Yes sir," Bobby answered his father.
"Then what's to debate?"
"Nothing."
"Alright then."
"Good, your momma just fried some catfish, the Falcons actually won, and I got one of them blue pills. I'll call you tomorrow son."
"Love you dad,"
"Love you too," His father hung up with nothing more to say.
Bobby's father was his first manager. He had his own music group back in the 70s but gave it up when Bobby was born. Still he would get a royalty check every now and then. The music wasn't popular at the time, but it became popular enough for hip hop producers to sample. Often Bobby would wish his father was still his manager. The record label had gotten him a new manager when he signed, a new lawyer and stylist. None of it was simple anymore.
His father was right. He never needed any of this stuff to do a show before. He had more fans than ever, and every action he took was under a microscope. Fans would be upset if he didn't perform, and there was no point in disappointing his new fans.
Bobby left the dressing room as the argument still raged. He didn't bother speaking a word to any of his representatives or venue owners. He just made his way to the stage where the fans were waiting and chanting. Quickly the band followed him out to the stage when they realized what he was doing.
"They didn't have blue M&Ms tonight, so my manager didn't want me to perform. I don't even like candy," the crowd went wild at his words. "But, I couldn't let y'all down. Some of you might know my dad was my first manager so I'm going to take it back to the first song that blew up when he was still with me. Band, rock with me for a minute. One, two, one, two, three," the band played on cue.
