09.30.3013: Blackmail Most Fine
Summary: Drake and Letha decide what to do about Drake's blackmailer.
Date: 15 September, 2013
Related: Drumming Up Business
Drake Letha 


Drake's Apartment, Westend, Landing
The apartment of Drake Danger sits halfway up the Sunset Tower, and is made up of three rooms plus a kitchenette and bathroom. There is a living room with a beat-up leather couch in front of the InfoSphere terminal, and a wide window looking out over the Westend. There's a small, padded bench beneath the window and the walls are covered in posters from old rock shows. What was once the second bedroom has been fitted with sound-absorbent panels on the walls, and is filled with speakers, amps, a couple of guitars, and a very basic drum set. The actual bedroom is simple, with a closet, dresser, and a low queen-sized bed. Pictures rest on top of shelves and the dresser, each one showing Drake — ranging from early teens to the present — with a famous musician.
30 September, 3013

Drake sits in his window-seat. He's not sulking, but that's only because rockstars don't sulk in private, only when there are cameras around. No, he's brooding. Brooding over a little fold of paper that was slipped under his glass in the Violet Siren. There's a cloud hanging over his head, but it's rapidly building up from a rainy one, heading a good deal further towards a little storm-cloud. Tossing his hair back, he crumples the paper up, tosses it inaccurately in the direction of the wastepaper basket, and says, "Fuck 'em."

Letha steps out of the bedroom in soft and comfortable clothing, taking a terry towel to rub her hair dry. She has done all she can to avoid the subject of that paper note, but it now has become too hard to avoid. She sighs as she steps up toward the brooding rocker, tossing the towel aside as she drops heavily beside him in the window seat. She glances up to meet his dark gaze, and then she glances toward the crumple of paper. "Just gonna let them hand off the vid' to the media?"

Drake looks up, grumbling, "Yeah." And then he waits a moment, then reverses course, "No." Scrubbing both hands back through his hair, leaving his fingers buried in the luxurious brown locks. A good portion of the anger bleeds out of him, and he lets out a breath, "Hell, I don't know, babe. If it was just me…" he stops again, shrugs a little embarrassedly, then finishes pulling his fingers free, "Well, me and someone I didn't really care about, I'd say 'fuck it, let 'em go public.' But I dunno. It won't hurt my career, but it'll hurt yours."

Letha blinks. "How would it hurt my career and not yours? Because I'm a woman?" Then the cellist breathes out a slow sigh, looking aside a bit. "Maybe we need to try to figure out who this person is…" She glances over toward him. "I mean, maybe they don't have a tape at all? Maybe they are just trying to pry some money out of you?" She bites slightly at her inner cheek, the worry evident on her pale features.

Drake shakes his head quickly at the accusation, "No… no. Because you're doin' music that fancy people like. I'm doin' rock and roll. People who like rock and roll don't care if their favorite musician got caught havin' sex in public. Hell, it might even help sales." And then he blows out his breath, rising up to his feet and moving over to his… girlfriend. His hands come up to cup her face gently, "And that's sorta what I was thinkin' too. Tryin' to find out who the hell this son-of-a-bitch is, pay 'im a visit."

The ex-Journo breathes out a slow sigh that deflates her shoulders. She lifts her gaze to meet his as his hands gently cup her cheeks, and she offers him a slight smile. "We gotta find someone who can pull that kind of thing off… think Jane might know someone? I mean, she gets herself in trouble all the time." Though Jane tends to like the attention, Letha muses to herself. Then she shrugs her shoulders a bit before she reaches up to cup her hands over his. Her eyes drift shut.

Drake leans down to press a kiss to Letha's brow, "Jane, I guess. But I don't think she really goes after people for posting things about her." He lets out a short, sharp breath, "Shit. I just wanna punch someone." His fingers slip back beneath her ears, and he leans in to press another kiss to her forehead, "Every person we ask to help, that's another person who knows. I dunno… maybe just Jane and the band? I wanna hit 'em, but I don't wanna hurt you if they do have tape. I mean, do you wanna see us havin' sex in a dressin' room on the InfoSphere?"

Letha looks down, and she shakes her head. She is quiet for a few moments, taking in a deep inhale before her shoulders rise and fall. "No… I don't want to deal with that. I don't have the time nor the money for a good PR person, and my album is suppose to come out in a few weeks." She then rolls her shoulders a bit before she presses her cheek into the ball of his arm. She is quiet for a long moment as she regards the ground at her feet. "Talk to the band first, and then Jane, and see if they know anyone who can help us out."

Drake encircles her shoulders with his arms, tucking her head into his shoulder, "Yeah. Don't get me wrong, I wouldn't mind havin' the tape myself. Just for when I'm feelin' blue. But I damned sure don't want everyone on Haven — or even just the ones with dirty minds — lookin' it up." He lets out another sharp breath, "Shit, this is going to get ugly. Part of me just wants to pay the damned ten grand. But I figure if I do that, they'll just ask for another ten grand in a couple months."

"Yeah," Letha frowns. "That's exactly how it goes. I would know… same thing happened to Jax Spike… you remember him?" Then she sighs. "And Landing Life covered that story… that was a very good year for the magazine." Her frown deepens as she leans into his frame. Her hand raises, petting through his smooth hair slowly and thoughtfully. "We will get it fixed," she says softly, "I promise."

Drake shakes his head at the question about Jax, then pauses, coughing with laughter, "Ohshit. Yeah. I remember. Man, didn't he like, pop out three times." Because obviously he watched it. A couple of times. The petting of his hair draws a little laugh, and he tilts his head against hers. "This is gonna suck ass whether it comes out or it doesn't, isn't it, hot stuff? I mean, shit… just thinkin' back to that day gets me all hot and bothered, but it's gonna cause a shit-ton of trouble for you, and even some for me."

His words draws a sudden laugh at her lips, and then she breathes out a slow sigh that drops her shoulders a bit. "Well… once we get it all taken care of, you're free to get as hot and bothered by it as you like. Maybe we can get a video out of the deal." She blushes a soft and warm pink before she leans forward to press a soft kiss to the side of his lips. "But yeah… it isn't going to be pleasant regardless of which way we go… whoever this person is, they aren't going to be happy to see us at their doorstep."

Drake chuckles, accepting the kiss and then tossing his hair back from his face, "C'mon, you know you liked bein' in there with someone else just on the other side of that thin little wall." He ducks his head then, the gleaming curtain of hair falling back around his face again as he draws her into a soft kiss with just a hint of spiking heat to it, "But yeah. That's why I punch 'em in the face when they open the door."

Letha flushes an even darker pink at his words, and she almost speaks before she is gently silenced by his kiss. She presses closer to him, pressing her lips against his earnestly. Then she starts to laugh a bit in the wake of the warm kiss. "Lets make sure they don't know how to punch back first." Then she leans her forehead into his, and her eyes flutter shut. "You gotta tell the band though… they gotta know this might hit the tabloids."

Drake shrugs his shoulders at her laughing words, "Hey, I can handle myself in a fight." The quieter words that follow cause him to nod his head against hers, "Yeah. You're right. I'll hit 'em one or two at a time. Don't want everyone jumpin' in at once." Letting out another sign, he squeezes his arms around her more tightly for a long moment, then looses them once more, "I'm bettin' that they'll just razz me, but better let 'em know. You want to be there when I do?"

Letha offers him a soft smile. "Of course I'm right… I'm the brains in this operation." Then she releases a sigh, shaking her head a bit. "Alright… I suggest you talk to Zani and Roxy first… the girls will at least be sympathetic." Then she slides out of his lap, pulling herself up to her feet as she tosses her towel aside. She presses her hand against her hips, and then she tilts her head back to stare up at the ceiling. She breathes out a slow sigh, and then she looks down toward him. "Come on, I'm going to make dinner… you can help."

Drake laughs at the first comment, "And I'm just the hair and the grin. Yeah, yeah, I know." He looses his arms from around her, nodding, "Yeah. That's sorta what I was figurin' too. The guys'll just wanna get drunk and celebrate." There's a pause, and he nods to himself, "The girls might too, but they'll understand too." Hauling himself from his feet, he moves over to pick up the crumpled-up paper, "Guess I better keep this. In case we eventually have to go to the Watch." There's no complaint as he follows her into the little kitchen, "What're we makin'?"

Letha laughs. "Rock Stars," is all she says as she heads toward the kitchen. She starts to pull out a pair of pots before she nods to the fridge. "Steak, potatoes, and greens. You can pull them out for me." She casts him a wide smile as she sets down the heavy skillet on the stove and starts the heat under it. "You think that Zani and Roxy won't try to be comforting too?" She tilts her head over to him as she drops a pat of butter into the pan.

Drake nods his head at the recitation of food, "Sounds damn good to me." And he works his way into the fridge, pulling out the appropriate fixings, "I do. But I think there might be some cheering on too." He grins up at her as he starts passing over food, "But that's comforting, right?"

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