Rich had managed to find a seemingly vacant spot near the elevator, glad to escape the noise of the hotel hallways to speak on the phone with the music video casting director. “The desert where Coachella is hosted? Yeah that sounds phenomenal,” he spoke into the receiver, when suddenly he noticed a shadow behind him. “Er, I’ve got to go, thanks sir - Dad - I mean Dad,” he covered quickly, instantly becoming nervous. As he hung up, he turned around. “Can I help you with something?”












