Kelly
I look awkwardly around at these guys as Turk covers for me quickly. "Ha ha ha, yes, she's a fresh one," he says to them all. "Kelly, DJ was hoping to have a word with you about maybe playing one of your songs on his Acts to Watch segment. So why don't we step over here and leave these idiots to their fizzy wine while we sit at the big kids' table?"
A chorus of protests and coarse insults peppers the air behind us as Turk leads me along the back wall, past the black-clothed tables where the wait staff are filling more glasses, to a dark corner. I have the sudden urge to run to the better lighting and bored condescension of my position in front of the stage a few minutes ago.
Turk must figure out what I'm thinking because he takes my elbow.
I avoid Mink's glittering gaze.
