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LOGAN’S RANT
“My rant is nice people! Yes, nice people. I see the disbelief on your face and fuck you. You’re probably a nice person, well; guess what. I don’t like you. I like people who are smart-asses. I like feisty chicks. I like guys who beat the shit out of other people. Yeah. I said that. That’s what I like, because you know why? I can be an asshole then, and I’m still the good guy. And you know what’s really annoying about nice people? When you’re pissed off, and you’re having a day where you just literally want to put your fist through someone’s face, and then here comes along a nice person. Like they want to make me feel better, and they’re being all nice and kind, and saying sweet things to me, but I don’t want it. It’s an asshole day. I want to be an asshole that day and I can’t when these fucking nice little people come around. You want to know what I have to be then? Nice back to them! I can’t hit them. I can’t be mean to them. Fuck’s sakes. I’m going to hell if I rip on a kind person. Yes. So. Go away kind people. Let me be an asshole. Thank you.
That’s my rant. Nice people.
Who the fuck needs them?”
Sam’s mouth is hanging open.
Logan sees, narrows his eyes. “What? You’re not one of those nice people when I’m being an asshole. You don’t make me feel better.”
“What do I do then?”
“You tell me to stop being an asshole.” He pauses. “And then I stop being an asshole.”
She snorts. “Your rant made no sense.”
He shrugs. “Did to me. I feel better too.” He looks at the interviewer. “Thank you.”
SAMANTHA’S RANT
“My rant?” She frowns.
Logan rolls his eyes. “Her rant will be when her iPod turns off and she’s in the middle of a run.”
“It will not be.” She thinks about it, still frowning. “Oh! I have a rant.” She looks at Logan. “You.”
“Me?!” He jerks upright in his seat. “I’m your rant? We’re like family now.”
“No. It’s you because you can be mean sometimes.”
Logan’s mouth drops open. “Do you know who you’re screwing? I talk. Mason fights! He punches. He’s the mean one.” He snorts and gestures to the interviewer. “He doesn’t even talk during interviews. No. No way. Tijan said we have to do this shit, so we’re here. I talk. I told her my rant. This nice lady is going to ask Mason what his rant is and you know what his answer will be? Nothing. He’ll sit there, stare at her, and probably say, ‘these questions’.” He shakes his head. “No. No way. I’m being nice here. I’m annoying myself. I want to put my own fist through my own head. That’s the role I’m doing. No. You get a new rant. You can’t pick me. No fucking way.”
Sam narrows her eyes at him. “It’s still you.”
“Wha--”
She cuts him off, “Because all you do is goddamn talk. Your rant is against nice people? Are you kidding me? You’re being mean and you know it. Your girlfriend is one of the nicest people I know! And that’s why you love her. Because she loves you, even after all the shit you did when she broke up with you.”
“She broke up with me!”
“And you couldn’t keep your dick out of someone else for at least a few months? Make sure you couldn’t get her back? No. You didn’t. You screwed around and your nice girlfriend still loved you afterwards. She’s a goddamn saint compared to you.” Sam finishes, then looks at the interviewer. “Next question, please?”
Logan leans forward. “Can I change my rant?”
MASON’S RANT
“My rant?”
The interview nods her head. “Yes. If you had to rant about something, what would it be?”
He’s silent.
A few seconds pass.
More time passes.
A full minute has passed.
He says, “These interviews.”
The interviewer takes a breath. “And why’s that? Can you expand a little?”
He thinks about it.
He’s silent.
Another thirty seconds, and then, “No.”
Logan’s laughing in the background. “Told you!”
Mason only stares at the interviewer.
HEATHER’S RANT
“My rant? Oh my God. I don’t think we have enough time. Is there a time limit on these interviews? Do you have to go somewhere else? Because, honey, I could stay forever. I work. A lot. And I study. And this is my break time. And you’re here asking me these kind of questions?” She whistles. “You don’t know what Pandora box you just opened.” She holds up her hand, her fingers spread out. “I have so many things to rant about, but here’s just a few of them. My boyfriend.” One finger goes down. “My brother.” Another finger. “My boyfriend’s sister, or no, no, no. How my boyfriend is about his sister. Not his sister. Bren is fine, but how he is, that’s a whole other issue.” A third finger goes off. “I have to work all the time.” A fourth. Only one finger left. “And oh yeah, I’m still poor! You met my friends before, right? They’re loaded. They don’t understand what the poor person has to deal with. No, no. I’m going to love this interview.” She pauses, and cocks her head to the side. “You might want to get comfortable. We’re going to be here all day.”
NATE’S RANT
“Logan.”
The interviewer blinks. “Can you explain?”
“Mason.” He pauses, then adds, “And Sam. All of them. I want to rant about all of them.” He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Have you met them? I’m sure you did. They usually go first, and it’s because they’re the stars of this whole operation. Well, I’m sick of it. I want to be the star. When is it my turn? When am I the first to be interviewed? Why didn’t you interview me first? Oh. Wait. I know. Because I’m not the star, and they are.”
The interviewer doesn’t move. She doesn’t say anything. She’s not sure if she should even be looking at him.
And then, “And you want to know why they’re the stars? Because I’ll give it to them. They are. Everything surrounds them. Mason is loved. Holy fuck. All the girls want him. And all the same girls want to be friends with Sam. They feel bad for her, but they all love Logan too. And he’s got his own group. They’re super protective of him, almost to the part where they get bitter because they think he’s getting a raw deal. Everything’s about Mason. Logan’s the runner-up, but you know why that is, right? I mean, it’s obvious.” He pauses. The interviewer starts to ask, then he says it, “It’s because of how gorgeous they are. So that’s my rant. How beautiful my friends are. Because holy shit, you’ve seen ‘em. You know. You’re probably hot and bothered with me just talking about them right now. Gorgeous. And Mason with his muscles.” He whistles, shaking his head. “So goddamn hot. And his green eyes. I’ve never seen anything like them, but between you and me I don’t think he gets enough attention for his eyes, but they’re something. Aren’t they? Oh yeah. And Logan. Don’t even get me started on Logan, with his dark luscious hair, and his chocolatey, milk chocolatey eyes. Oh yeah.” He shakes his head, sighing. “Just stunning people. All of them.” He nods. “Yeah. That’s why they’re the stars, and who can really blame anyone? I’m getting affected right now. I should stop. I should get a tan for my book. I gotta look extra good. Yeah. That’s a good idea.” He stands up and holds up a finger. “This was lovely, but excuse me. I need to book a tanning salon.”
MATTEO’S RANT
“I’m supposed to rant about something?”
“Yes. It can be anything.”
He thinks about it, frowning. His forehead wrinkles, then he shakes his head. “Nope. We don’t do that in my culture. We’re all about the love, surfing, fishing, leis. Yeah. We don’t do that. We’re happy. I didn’t even know what that word meant until today.”
He pauses. “No, that’s not true. I learned it when I met Logan. He rants a lot. He could rant for me. Can we do that?” He doesn’t wait. He twists around and hollers, “Logan?! Can you do something for me?”
LOGAN’S ADVICE FOR LIFE
