“I know, but I feel guilty.” She blinks, looking down at her feet.
“Don’t feel guilty because I can promise you, he feels the same way right now,” I point out, looking at his grumpy face.
“Amelia, get over here,” a makeup artist yells, waving me over once she spots me.
If looks could kill, I would be dead.
“The devils are calling me. I must go,” I joke.
I roll my eyes, and she pats me on the back.
“Good luck. I’ll be your cheerleader on the sidelines.”
As several artists cover my body in a light dusting of glitter, I force the weakness I feel within not to show on my face. Weakness makes you vulnerable, and being vulnerable makes people feel stronger. Before taking my place in front of the camera, they make sure half my cleavage is hanging out of my top, and let’s not forget about my ass as well. The first time I shrank into myself as I stood half-naked at my first shoot, they waved me off and told me that’s what makes money and that I should be proud of myself.
Proud that people are looking at my body like that’s all I’m good for?
I barfed for the first time that day.
“All right, Times Three, let’s get started right away. We have a tight schedule today,” a random lady with a clipboard says. Mumbling into her earpiece, she skitters away on her high heels.
For what feels like hours, my brothers and I get blinded by a giant studio light that beams at us. My ears buzz from all the yelling and directing.
CHAPTER13
LEVI
The thing I hate most about being famous is how everyone thinks they know who I am based on what they see in the tabloids. The shit they write about me couldn’t be any faker, yet people are so stupid that they believe anything they read.
Like gossip magazines are their religion.
Today, my phone ringing nonstop woke me up. I ignored it the first time, hoping it wouldn’t ring again. However, the fifth time it rang, I questioned my sanity, and I answered it. And was only greeted with a curt demand that I head to the studio. At seven in the morning and with no available babysitter for my little sister.
I try not to bring Stella around the team as much as I can, but I have no choice today. So, when I got myself ready and had to wake up sleeping beauty and saw the distress of being woken up early on her face, I felt like a burden.
But there’s clearly something wrong at the studio. I could tell by the thirty-second call before getting hung up on. I’m not sure if the boys got a call as well, but I bet whatever the situation is, it isn’t worth what they’re making it out to be. Our record label has a tendency to overreact to the smallest problems.
But when I arrive with my sleepy sister on my hip, I discover my other bandmates weren’t called to come in. Just me. The air is thick with tension. I almost run out through the door, immediately feeling suffocated and on edge.
A thousand thoughts go through my head, pondering if I upset the team, a fan, or the paparazzi. But I can’t remember acting out and causing a scene. I have just been lying low these past few weeks.
“Fay, can you explain why I’m here so early?” I whisper, sitting across from her as she types away frantically on her laptop.
I would be the richest man in the world if you gave me three dollars for every time she’s pinched her nose in frustration these past few minutes I’ve been sitting here. Fay is the team’s rock. She’s the only one I can say who’s levelheaded and relaxed. So, this must be bad, seeing as she’s clearly in distress.
“Poor thing,” she swoons, looking over at my baby sister, cuddled in my arms, sleeping.
She refused to let me put her down to rest on the couch even though it’s a couple of feet away from where I sit. Lately, she’s been clingy. I hoped it was a phase, but now, she cries in the morning when I leave for work. I can’t imagine the separation anxiety that will come when she starts school next year.
“She had a rough night, only slept three hours, tops,” I mutter, stroking my thumb on her tiny cheek.
Fay folds her hands together with a small smile. “Little ones are difficult to take care of. I have a lot of respect for you, Levi.”
I send her a smirk. “What? You doubted a twenty-four-year-old man could take care of another life?”
“When I first met you years ago, I doubted you could take care of a goldfish. Let alone your sister.”
Honestly, I don’t blame her. I wonder how I haven’t messed up either.
