8
Ithrew myself into my work as a distraction from what happened with Jayce.
It was difficult. The concert venues blurred into each other, one looking the same as all the rest. Frustration became a constant companion. It was hard to take interesting and unique pictures when the backdrop looked the same wherever we went.
Getting a peek behind the scenes sounded cool until you realized every backstage looked the same: bare hallways, a few offices, and a couple rooms with comfy chairs and sofas for the artists to relax in. It wasn’t the most exciting thing in the world. I mostly stuck to taking pictures of the guys.
Rehearsal was done, and the concert wasn’t for another few hours, so I took a bit of a break. One of the make-up girls and I had become friendly acquaintances, and she always had recommendations for me. She was giving me her opinion on which new brand of mascara I should try when that jerk walked toward me, the assistant producer who’d scowled at me to get out of his way without so much as a please or thank you.
“Hey Gabriella, is that guy really on the film crew?”
He still wasn’t wearing a staff badge. For all I knew,hewas the groupie sneaking in to see the band.
Gabriella raised her eyebrows. “Are you kidding me? You don’t recognize him?”
“I ran into him on my first day, but he was kind of an asshole. Why, who is he?”
“That’s Cornelius Conner. He’s one of the best up-and-coming producers. Feral Silence is lucky they snagged him. After this, he’ll probably be promoted from assistant to full producer.”
“I had no idea. Is he known for being grumpy?”
“I wouldn’t say he’s grumpy. He’s known for being a perfectionist. If you’re an asset to his work, you’ll stay on his good side. If you’re a hindrance, look out. And never,” she whispered as he came within hearing range, “call him by his first name. Use Connor.”
“Excuse me,” he said, coming up to the two of us, hands in his pocket. “Do you mind if I talk with your friend alone?”
“Sure, go ahead. I was just leaving.” Gabriella mouthedgood luckas she walked away.
“Yes? Can I help you?” I used the same words I had on the first day we met.
“I wanted to apologize.” His blue eyes were earnest and his messy brown hair made him look tousled and unkempt. I was a bit taken aback, not expecting to hear an apology from him.
“For?” Maybe it was petty of me, but I wanted to hear him say it.
“For being a jerk. When I got mad at you for stepping in front of my camera.”
“You called me a groupie.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “Even though I was the one wearing the staff badge, not you.”
He looked genuinely remorseful. “I’m sorry. I was just under a lot of pressure. I only had a few minutes to shoot the scene I needed.”
I didn’t want to leave him squirming for too long, so I uncrossed my arms and let them dangle at my sides. “Okay. Apology accepted. Although you’re going to get a bad reputation if you snap at people whenever you’re stressed.”
“I’m working on it.”
“At least you’re aware of your character flaws.”
He huffed out a rueful laugh. “I’m more than aware. One, I’m a perfectionist. Two, I don’t know how to delegate.” He ticked off each point with a finger. “Three, I always take on too much and end up overworked. Four—”
“There’s such a thing as being too hard on yourself,” I said, interrupting his monologue.
“I just want you to know that I’m aware I can be an asshole at times.” He stuck his hands back in the pockets of his tan slacks. “So, what do you do here?”
I hadn’t expected him to ask about my job, so I blurted out, “I’m the internet girl,” before I could stop and think about how that sounded.
Instead of laughing at me, he looked intrigued. “And what’s that, exactly?”
“I’m in charge of posting to the band’s social media accounts. Updates, pictures, answering questions, that sort of thing. I’m the direct line of communication between the band and their fans.”
“I know a girl who loves that stuff. She’d probably kill to have your job.” His eyes lit up, and he pulled out his phone in excitement. ”Hey, I know you don’t owe me any favors, but I want to film a scene where the guys respond to weird fan things. Like this.” He shoved his phone in my face. There was a screenshot of a fan sleeping with a body pillow. The pillowcase was printed with a picture of Kell’s shirtless body. “There’s so much junk on the internet, though, so I don’t have time to pick out the good stuff. Maybe you can help me?”
