Brett takes a sip of his tea, and eyes me steadily above the rim of his cup. There's something about the intrusiveness of his gaze that does strange things to my stomach.
"The problem is....this means we're going to have to c***k on with putting the finishing touches to the album now. And we're gonna have to release the single sooner."
I look back at him blankly, and I see him bristle with agitation because I'm still non the wiser. I can't see why such a minor thing is causing him such great annoyance, and his terse reaction to my questioning is unprecedented and hurtful.
How am I supposed to know after all? Yet he's looking at me as if I'm a slow-witted child.
"I don't think I'll be able to record anything unless this clears up." He indicates towards his ear, and his expression grows
