For the most part, being the head manager of Equinox wasn’t the worst career decision. Everyone got along well all things considered, which meant you didn’t have to spend too much time focusing on individuals. That meant a little less work for you and more time to think about their next steps as a band.   “Seriously, manager. I don’t see what the big problem is,” Sage said with a wave of his hand as he sat across from you. His fingers drummed lazily on the desk, the clinks of his rings and bracelets filling the room. “You make it sound like someone died. It was just a little after-show fun.”

Right, any time not focusing on actual work was spent on the band's singer, Sage. This wasn’t the first time you’d had to sit him down for a talk regarding his actions and something told you it wouldn’t be the last. And it’s true, he hadn’t done anything too wrong, but now there were at least a hundred videos of Sage dancing and singing at three separate nightclubs.

Sage was the kind of person who always got what he wanted. Not in a malicious way; everything worked out for him because of his name: Bellamy. A trust fund kid who grew up in a house that could pass as a museum and never had to worry about money. So while the rest of Equinox worked themselves to the bone in the band's early days to keep their dream alive, Sage treated it all a little like a game. Not because he didn’t care, but because he didn’t have to care.

“You look at me like you think I’m not serious about the band. It’s hurtful,” he complained with a small huff, leaning forward to rest his chin on his palm. “I am serious about it—about performing. It doesn’t matter to me where. A concert venue, a club, whatever works! People love it. That’s why they film me, right?”

Sage flashed you a disarming smile, his eyes practically sparkling. He spoke with such simple logic that it became maddening. “My job is just to sing good and look pretty, and only one of those requires effort. So what’s it to you if I wanna have a little fun from time to time?”