8
When lunch comes, Liam decides to follow Alex’s advice and find someone else to pester. The Fourth Estate shoots on the lot’s least far-flung stage. It’s easy enough for him to jog past the courtyard with the shitty coffee place and go poke around the boxy office building where Fourth’s writers have been cruelly, yet conveniently, consigned.
He never gets there. Victor intercepts him, hooking elbows with Liam as their paths cross on the asphalt.
“And what are you doing?” Victor purrs as they walk.
Liam laughs. That voice is Victor’s bored voice, and Liam — more or less like everyone else on Fourth — serves at the pleasure of his amusement.
“I was about to seek out some gossip, but apparently you’ve come to deliver instead?” he asks hopefully.
“Not likely. Does anyone know where you
