He met Remington Santos at an friend’s event, a low-key, guest-listed, exclusive thing where the younger man opened with a few songs that caught his attention. Now, Cormac was no music executive, but he liked how Remington sounded, so he told him as much when they were introduced, and over the course of the evening (plus a handful of drinks), they became good friends. Good enough that they went out for dinner once, and that was enough for the rumor mill to start.
At least the photos were good. They had fun that evening, and he could see how their friendship could get misconstrued, with the way he was look at Rem.
"I’m sorry,” he said the moment his PA let Rem in. “I should’ve come with a waring. Paparazzi magnet. It’s been a little while since they had last caught me out with someone, and I didn’t think they’d brand you my boyfriend. I’m not even gay.” Chuckling, he shook his head and sat on the couch. “My people are talking to your guy about how to handle this, but I wanted to know how you feel about it first. Get our story straight, you know, not that there’s anything to hide.”