Johnny’s not sure what to say. He can’t really deny the pictures—it’s obviously him, and though he’d pushed Brett away before the photog could steal a kiss in public, the images still look pretty incriminating. He clears his throat, mind working in overtime; he never was any good at improv….
Lou’s voice is surprisingly gentle. “Who is he?”
“Just a friend,” Johnny says.
Lou laughs. “Don’t play coy with me. I’m your manager, Johnny. I need all the facts up front here. I’m the one they’re going to call about this. You’re just lucky the site’s updated so damn often, and no one’s really looking for shit on you yet. But the minute you’re back on top, and they start Googling you? Don’t you think someone’s going to find these?”
“We’re just playing around.” Even to his own ears, Johnny knows that sounds lame.
“Are you serious?” Lou asks. Johnny glances up, confused, but Lou nods at the photos in his hands and asks, “With him? Is it something I should know about?”