Yeah, I was jaded with thisshit.
The creeper guys who were gonna try to touch Elle’s baby bump? Had to watch out for those, too. Groupies came in allforms.
And I was definitely not adverse to tossing someone out if they gave off the slightest whiff of crazy ordisrespectful.
Truly, the members of Dirty were way nicer to the fans than I everwas.
Which was why they neededme.
If it were left up to them, they’d be eaten alive. Drained dry from stopping to “be nice” and talk to every damn fan who ever tried to talk tothem.
Here was the problem with being nice. Once you got to a certain level of fame, you just couldn’t afford to bethatnice anymore. It’d bleed youdry.
When it came to the fans, the members of Dirty were grateful, appreciative and gracious. Which was exactly how they should be. They knew if it wasn’t for the fans, we’d havenothing.
Literally.
Zane, Jesse and me would still be living in that crap-ass apartment. Or maybe I’d be living at the Kings clubhouse or, if I was really lucky, I’d be in prison or dead by now. Zane would probably be drowning at the bottom of a bottle and Jesse would be playing dive bars and delivering pizzas, still believing he could make it, even if he didn’t. Dylan and Elle would’ve stayed at home with their parents as long as they could, gotten more education and maybe some soul-sucking desk job. Brody would be living in his mansion, because Brody was rich as fuck without us, but would he ever have ended up with Jessa? And Seth… I didn’t even want to think about where Seth would’ve endedup.
Without the music and the fans who loved the music, we’d all benobody.
I knew that as well as any of usdid.
But I was wary of everyone always trying to take a piece of them. It was my job to keep the members of Dirty safe, which meant sane, too. It meant doing my best to keep themwhole.
Sometimes, that meant protecting them fromthemselves.
“Five minutes,” I told my guys, when we let a dozen or so carefully chosen fans backstage to meet the band just before we started shooting. It was good for the shoot to dole out a few passes, let a few people back to talk to the band and get excited about it, bring that energy back out into the crowd. But I was selective asfuck.
Picked a handful of girls and guys who actually looked like they might be decent conversationalists, not just groupies who’d be begging Zane to bend themover.
Even Zane was getting weary of that shit thesedays.
* * *
Just before theband hit the stage to start shooting, I was hanging with Jesse backstage when he asked me, “So, you meet someone orwhat?”
“What?”
“You’ve been sending guys to fill in for you a lot lately, at night. Every time I ask you to come down, someone else shows up. I’d say I miss you, but even when you’re around lately, you’re shit for conversationanyway.”
Really?
“Yeah,” I said, because what was I gonna do, lie to Jesse’s face about it? “Metsomeone.”
“Yeah?” He gave me his brilliant, superstar smile, and I actually felt kinda bad for being so secretive about it. “When do I get to meether?”
“I’ll let you know if it becomesimportant.”
His smile dropped a few watts; maybe he was really that jazzed that I was seeing someone? Probably wanting me to do date nights with him andKatie.
Yeah… really didn’t think Roni would be up for that anytimesoon.
“Alright, brother,” hesaid.
I clapped him on the shoulder and went to check on everyone else. But even after I’d said those words and walked away, they tasted bad in mymouth.
Ifit becameimportant.
