It's So Nice to Finally Meet You

Jack sighed and ruffled his hair up, taking a big gulp of Monster as he punched in.
"Morning Jack! You look rough."
He chuckled at the receptionist and nodded.
"I didn't get much sleep last night Sarah."
She smiled politely and handed him a file with everything he had to do that day in it, including all the paperwork that went with it.
"Thanks."

Sarah was the nicest person Jack had ever met. She always wore bright colours, today's choice was pink, and she was always happy. She had gleaming white teeth and bleach blonde hair that was always scraped back in to a tight, neat bun. Her bright blue eyes always seemed to shine and she was always perfect, her nails manicured and her skin tanned, not too dark but not too light, that perfect shade of golden brown. She always wore makeup, but looked stunning none the less, and her bright dresses were always tight and low cut, but she had the figure to pull it off. Her boobs were amazing, Jack loved them. If he wasn't gay he'd totally be fucking her.

He set off up the stairs, groaning as he plopped down in his black, leather office chair and looked in the mirror. His hair was stuck up all over the place, big black bags were under his eyes and his teeth were gross. His shirt was buttoned up wrong and his fly wasn't zipped up. Sarah was right, he did look rough.
As Jack flicked through his checklist, putting them in prioritised order, he started to think about his saviour. He should probably give him a name.
"Mr Barakat? Sam's here to see you. Sam Shore, Slippery When Wet."
Jack looked down the list of bands and members he had and smiled as he found Sam's name and profile. Sam was a guitarist, good.
"Yeah tell him to come in."

Sam was a pretty good name, and Sam and Saviour began with the same letter. He'd call him Sam.
Jack started to make questions in his head.
Who is Sam?
Where is Sam?
What's Sam's actual name?
It'd be really cool if it actually was Sam.
What does Sam want?
What is Sam? (Assuming he's not human of course)
Why Jack?
Why-

Jack's thought process was interrupted by a knock in the door followed by a thick Yorkshire accent.
"Hey, I'm Sam. I'm hear about the record deal, I've been told you're the one I need to see."
"Ah yeah. Come on in man."
Jack folded his legs up on his chair and smiled as Sam (band sam) took a seat across from him.

Sam was quite attractive. He had dirty blonde hair that hung over his brown eyebrows. His fringe swooped over to the left hand side, and the brighter blonde streaks that were in the front of his hair really brought out his eyes. His eyes were the brownest brown Jack had ever seen. They were almost black actually, a start contrast to the surfer boy mop on the top of his head. He had pale skin, covered in bright tattoos, and his nose ring shone in the sunlight. His eyebrow was pierced too, and his ears were stretched, not too big but still enough so that Jack could probably stick his finger through it. He wore tight, black skinny jeans with holes in the knees and leather boots. He wore a white shirt, a black leather jacket over it and a thin black tie hanging down from the collar. He looked hot, classy and rock and roll.

"So you're from England?"
"Yeah. Rotherham exactly."
"Awesome. We don't get many English people here, I like you."
Jack smiled and went over the band profile.
"Ok so you guys are new. You're the guitarist, good choice of instrument by the way, and you guys have been together for about three years. You write your own stuff, you all put towards lyrics... Urmmm... I've heard some of your stuff, pretty impressive actually, but I need to meet all of you guys so I can assign you a manager and crew."
Sam nodded, smiling politely as Jack handed him a white folder.
"Cos you guys are new that's sort of an introductary in to this label. As you can tell we're pretty laid back, but we do have quite strict deadlines and we won't deal with bullshit. Matt, one of out managers, is quite strict. But he's the nicest guy you'll ever meet. I'll warn you, you won't be getting away with any of that rock and roll shit here, ok? If you trash a hotel room you're the one that pays for it, if you get bad publicity we're the one that has to pay for it. No fucking about ok?"
Sam nodded, chuckling, and Jack grinned.
"Well that's great! Welcome to the team! Everything you need to know is in that folder, and Sarah will hand you your next meeting time with me on your way out. Bring the whole band this time though yeah?"
The pair chuckled and said their goodbyes, Jack slumping right down in to his chair again as soon as the door slammed.

Jack tipped his head back and looked around the room for something interesting. His next meeting wasn't for another two hours and he needed something to do.
The walls of his office were painfully white, and one wall was made entirely out of glass. The view was phenomenal, you could see the whole city from that window and at night it was beautiful. Pictures of his bands and him gave the plain walls a bit of colour and some disks hung off hooks near the door, achievements of clients etc... In the middle of the room was a huge, dark wooden desk. Jack's desk was as tidy as his life right now, paper work was dumped in messy piles metres high and there were pens, pencils, empty coffee cups, empty cans and bits off food dotted around in between the papers. Behind the desk was Jack's chair, a huge, old black leather one that was in the office before he'd got this job. It was cracked and stunk, but it was comfy and had swivel wheels, so Jack kept it. On the opposite side of the desk was three dull, plastic chairs and on the wall to the left of that (the opposite wall to the one with the door on) was a big black sofa. Jack loved that sofa, because you could see every important feature in the room when sat on it. If you sat on it, across from you was the wall with the door, which was also the wall with all the pictures and things on. To the left of you was the window wall and to the right was Jack's "wall of stuff". This was where Jack's pin board was, where he kept reminders and such.

Jack sighed, laying down on his sofa and biting his already short nails.
Back to Saviour Sam
Jack had to find him. He had to thank him, he had to get some answer and he at least had to know his name. Plus, this guy was hot from what Jack had seen, and he was liking it. Maybe this guy would be interested in Jack, that might be why he keeps saving his life. Maybe Jack really is special, because he means something to this dude, whoever he is. Jack has to find him. He needs to.

He ran down the glass, spiralled staircase as fast as he could, panting as he got to reception.
"Are you alright Jack?"
"Sarah, cancel all my appointments for the rest of the day, I'm busy."