Andrew Lieberman
"Hey, Dad!" I answered the phone,
"Son, is everything alright?" Dad said, concerned, and I took a deep breath. I managed to get Amalia´s family on the loop, but not my father.
"Why do you ask?" I said, and he took a deep breath.
"Because it is all over the news. You hurting a guy in a hotel room in Las Vegas?" Dad said ad my hand trembled with anger. Those f*****g reporters and papparazzi, constantly twisting stories to get better paid jobs. They don´t care if they ruin a career or if they are just spreading f*****g lies. They want the picture that sells, like vultures after the money.
"f**k," I mumbled,
"Is it true?" Dad asked, his voice stern, severe, as if trying to figure out a math problem impossible to solve.
"Yes, but it is out of context," I mumbled,
