“Why not?” My face contorts unintentionally, and Niki shrugs.
“No clue.”
I don’t even want to think about how social media savvy a bunch of rockstars are without professional help.With a groan, I reach for my phone. “Am I going to regret this?”
Hell yeah, I am. But I’m going to do it anyway.
Social media is my special interest. Branding is in my blood. I’ve spent the last three years immersed in the world of online marketing, and I hate seeing wasted potential because of bad graphics or wonky aesthetics.
I’m curious to see what Emrys and that jerkass drummer came up with?—
“What…is…this?” I glare at the screen in horror as I scroll, looking at the mismatched photos and clear lack of direction. This could be a random fan account by the looks of it. “Why are half these photos blurry?”
I grimace. It’s such a shame. I bet those masks could photograph great on stage.
Niki peers over to see what I’m looking at and smiles. “Leave them alone. They tried.”
I scoff and check their follower count.
Two-hundred thousand. Cute.
Then I check the date of their most recent post, and my disappointment intensifies.
“They haven’t posted in three weeks?” I look up at Niki. No wonder their follower count is so low. Their consistency sucks.
She smiles awkwardly. “Did I mention they tried?”
“Barely.” I check their other platforms, looking at their numbers, their follower count, their content. Silently critiquing everything as I go.
On the upside, the band is very appealing, and the few things they post do well as far as likes. But they need to be doing more. They should be posting once a day, ifnot two or three times. There’s no reason why these guys shouldn’t be on the verge of half a million by now.
Well, besides their crappy social media presence. That’s a good reason.
“Are you really analyzing their marketing right now?” Niki takes a sip of her drink and pushes it away.
“This is your fault.” I level her with a stare. “You said I had to see it.”
She groans. “Okay, I take it back. Forget I said anything.”
“Too late.” I pause on a picture of Tobias haloed in blue light, looking like some kind of terrifying rock god playing his drums. “What happened to this photographer?” I flash her my phone screen. “Why don’t they have any recent professional shots?”
“Well, they booked a photographer to take some pictures today, and they didn’t show up. I don’t know what their plan is now.”
I take a deep breath and set my phone down on the table to massage both my temples.
“These guys don’t have a social media marketer or a photographer?” I ask, the thought grating on my brain. “What the hell are they doing?”
Niki laughs softly and shakes her head. “Jamming, Jos. They just want to play music and tour. And I don’t have the energy to invest in helping them, so I’m pretty much useless.”
“You’re not useless, you’re pregnant.” I narrow my eyes on her. “Besides, it’s not your job.”
“But it’s yours.” She wiggles her eyebrows at me.
I freeze, considering the implication of her words. Yes, it is my job, and yes I could definitely help them get their socials on track. But that’s not what I signed up for by coming here.
I’m here for Niki, no one else.
“Is this really why you brought me out here?” I smirk. “You wanted to con me into helping your boyfriend’s band.”
