The three of us ate quickly, polishing off our sandwiches before Killian, Jeramiah, and Tate had even made their way backstage. They arrived with minutes to spare before the reporter arrived.
* * *
My ears were still ringingwith applause as we stepped off the stage following our last song. Evan was practically bouncing off the wall, and even Calum had a grin on his face, the high of performing still flooding all our senses. Following each show, the label wanted us to mingle with press and fans backstage, so we headed straight back there.
More catered food was ordered, and opposite to the food table was a table set up with band merch for us to sign. There were six chairs on the other side of the table, where Killian, Jeramiah, and Tate already sat.
Jeramiah and Tate had opened for us, and they’d put on a damn good show. I’d watched from backstage with the rest of the guys, impressed with their stage presence.
When it was our turn to step out on stage, the crowd’s energy level was through the roof. Halfway through our set, Killian joined us and we played “Run for It,” the anticipated collaboration all our fans were clamoring for.
Their cheers had nearly brought down the house—my ears were still ringing.
Evan pulled out the chair beside Tate and sat down, flashing a grin at the waiting fans. Calum let out a breath as if bracing himself, then sat down beside Evan, leaving the last seat on the end open for me.
Once we were all situated, Tai got the line moving. For a while, I lost myself in the fan interactions. Fans had us sign albums and posters. They told us how much our music meant to them, listing off their favourite tracks. Told us how great the show had been, lamented about how “Run for It” was the hottest track of the year.
Things like this were an ego boost for sure, one that made us feel like true rock stars. Especially with the way most of our female fans threw themselves at us.
Following a particularly lewd suggestive invitation from a fan, Calum decided to call it a night early, heading back to the hotel.
One thing we could count on during tours was getting to stay in a hotel after shows. We’d spent a lot of time on the tour bus travelling, but Tai made sure we had real beds to sleep in after each concert. Performing took a lot of out of us, and it was nice to have a real bed for a change.
I could sense Cal needed the space, so Evan and I worked the crowd, trying to make up for the fact the notable fan favourite was gone. It didn’t bother either of us that Cal was the favourite. To our fans, he was the one wrapped up in mystery and intrigue. His broody personality capturing their hearts and they were obsessed with his air of mysterious intrigue.
Evan was the approachable one of the three of us. He was boisterous and loved having a good time. He made anyone feel like they were a part of the group. There was rarely a time when Evan wasn’t smiling or laughing.
I was the quiet one, I didn’t say much. I only really opened my mouth in interviews to talk about the process of songwriting, or about my musical influences. Sometimes, reporters would catch wind of an interesting tidbit on me and try to make it more than it was, like with my dad. They’d loved my father had been a part of a rock band in the 80s, but they hadn’t liked that I didn’t remember much about the guy.
He’d died when I was young, so the memories I have of him are foggy at best. My mom was my only remaining family, and I suppose by most people’s standards, she wasn’t very interesting either.
There wasn’t any real drama in my life, at least none anybody else knew about. For the umpteenth time that day, my thoughts drifted to Connor. I wondered who she was with and what she was doing, wondered if she was thinking of me and our night together.
CHAPTERNINE
April 2019
Connor
“Yousworeyou would come!”The pillow hit the back of my head with surprising force, jolting me forward. The papers I’d been scratching my pen against went everywhere, and I drew in a breath to center myself, spinning in my computer chair to face my assaulter.
Lara was dressed for the bar in a pair of black thigh-high boots, an adorable pink miniskirt that I personally couldneverpull off with my flaming red hair, and a sheer black shirt over a black bralette. Her makeup was smoky and dramatic, her thick chestnut hair hanging in perfect waves over her shoulders. She looked, as always, gorgeous and ready for a night of fun.
It was nine o’clock on a Friday night, and I was in my comfiest pair of leggings and a faded old band T-shirt. My hair hung over my shoulders in two tightly woven braids, and my face was free of makeup.
“I havesomany assignments I need to finish before next weekend, and I have a music theory test next week I have to study for.”
“That’sexactlywhy you’re going to go out with us. You’re going to burn yourself out at this rate. You need a night off. You need to do somethingfun!” she responded, crossing over to my closet to select an outfit. “Karaoke night issacred, and you are not missing it.”
I took a deep breath, knowing by the set of her shoulders she wasn’t going to back down. And honestly? She was right, I kind of needed a break. I’d been working myself so hard the past few years, trying to get perfect grades and graduate with honors so when I finally told my dad my revised career goals, he wouldn’t take it as a complete betrayal.
In my heart of hearts, I knew there wasn’t much I could do. My father would feel betrayed themomentI told him I intended on focusing on my own music career for a few years before teaching. Nan and Mom taught later on in life, both of them got to have a taste of the stage. I wanted that too, and I felt like I maybe stood a chance at reaching some level of success with my music.
I’d been songwriting for years, experimenting with different genres and types of music. Letting each one of my songs be a completely different experience, just to test the waters and see what style I preferred for myself.
My brother was the punk rocker, while my mother and grandmother had been folksingers. Gramps’s music was more East Coast folk too. I could sing in many different styles, and enjoyed many genres, depending on my mood. Although lately, my heart had been pulled in the rock direction, with influences like Joan Jett, Stevie Nicks, and Janis Joplin.
“Fine. But Ineedto be back before midnight,” I insisted. I was expecting a phone call I didn’t want to risk missing.
