“We’re not giving out any further information at the moment. I can confirm that Mr. Romero and his new wife married in Las Vegas as he mentioned. That’s all I can tell you at this time. Mr. Romero has stated that his priorities lie with tonight’s concert and giving the best performance he can for his fans. He’ll be issuing a statement after the show with more details, but for now, he asks you to, please, focus your reporting on the concert and the percentage of the ticket sales the band will be donating to local charities here in Houston. Their music continues to be the priority for Saving Tate,” Zoey repeats the speech she’s said numerous times now and hangs up the phone. Two seconds later, it rings again. “You know what, fuck this.” She presses a button to send the call to voicemail. “I’ve issued the statement enough times now and put it out online. If people can’t be bothered to read it and think by calling me directly they’ll get more information, then they’re surely mistaken. They can go fuck themselves.”
Zoey pops her phone onto silent and puts it in her pocket. She sees me watching her and comes over.
“Are you all right, Yivi? It’s not easy being put in the spotlight like that. I think I had the same look on my face when it first happened to me with Tate.”
“I’m just worried,”
“What’s worrying you? I’ll help in any way I can,” Zoey offers and motions for us to sit down on some soft chairs in the band’s dressing room area.
“I’ve looked at the internet, and my face is everywhere. I’m supposed to be hiding, but I’m worried I’ll be seen, and the Leader will come after me. I don’t want to go back.” I bite on my finger again and chip off another piece of nail polish.
“It won’t come to that, I promise. Do they even have the technology to see all this? Even if they do, we’re never alone. Guards always travel with us. Give them a description of what the Leader looks like, and he’ll never get near you. Even if he does, he’s going to have four very angry, rather scary band members to deal with. You’re one of us now and protected.”
“What Zoey said.” Tate walks into the room and goes straight to his fiancée for a kiss.
Liam is following him and does the same to me. Cameron and Austin enter last, and they’re bouncing and chatting together.
“Too damn right,” Liam adds. “I’m worried about you being in the headlines as well, but we’re going to look after you.”
“We’ll make sure someone’s with you at all times, Yivi. If Liam isn’t with you, then one of us will be.” Austin flops down on the sofa as he makes his announcement. “We each have our own bodyguard, so that’s extra protection. Even if Liam is good at giving his the slip and getting married.” He nods over to where I know the bodyguards are standing outside.
“You can’t do that all the time,” I inform the guys but shy back a little when they all stare me down and tell me in no uncertain terms they can.
“Have you thought about going to the police?” Zoey asks. “If you don’t want to go back there, then I don’t see how they can force you. Surely you can get an injunction or something against them to make them stay away from you?”
“N-no, I can’t,” I stutter my reply.
The thought of talking to the police about where I used to live scares me to death. I know the police have visited there a few times asking questions but to talk to them would be wrong. I just want to forget I came from there and live my new life.
“I’m sorry. I just want to forget the place. If it comes to it, I’ll consider going to the police, but I think I’m just a bit shocked to see my face plastered all over the headlines. I didn’t realize the extent of the band’s fame and that someone as boring as me would be of interest, because I’m associated with you.”
Liam pulls me close and kisses me on top of my forehead. “You are far from boring.”
I snort a laugh, wanting to try and stop everyone from worrying. I know the band has an important concert tonight, and they should be enjoying the build up. “You’re only saying that because I like sucking your dick.”
“See not boring at all.” Liam chuckles.
“What I would do to get my dick sucked before the concert.” Cameron grabs his groin. “I really need to let out some nervous energy.”
“I can assure you I’m not going to offer to help. My mouth is for one dick only.” I find myself teasing Cameron.
“It better be.” Liam throws a mock punch at Cameron. “We all know that happens when someone tries it on with my girl.”
“As if. I’d take you down in no time at all,” Cameron retorts.
“Then I’d knock you both out,” Austin adds, and the three guys look at Tate.
“I’ll just watch the blood and teeth fly as I get my dick sucked by Zoey, thank you.”
Everyone in the room bursts into fits of laughter, the solemn mood of earlier dispelled. It allows me to put my fears aside. I know each and every person in this room will do everything they can to protect me from my past.
“We better get ready for the concert,” Tate announces, breaking the hilarity of Liam, Cameron, and Austin, who are now play fighting.
All three stop throwing pretend punches and salute Tate. I’ve noticed he’s the unofficial leader of the band, and the others always support his decisions without question.
“That’s how I’ll get my dick sucked. I’m sure the costume department will have a nice little lady to get me off.” Cameron gets excited and heads to the door.
“Don’t upset anyone!” Zoey shouts after him.
Tate shakes his head. “Seriously, that guy needs to take a break from getting off. I bet his dick is crusty with chafing.”
“You can talk.” Austin laughs. “You and Zoey are like Energizer bunnies.”
“I can’t help it if I find my fiancée hot as fucking hell.” Tate smirks and grabs hold of Zoey’s backside. The two of them wander off together, probably to find somewhere to be alone.
Austin heads to the gaming console set up in the room. “I’m going to check out the latest challenges in my game. What are you two up to?”
I’ve learned this about the guys. In the last few hours before a concert, they all go into a mode where they stay apart from each other. Austin always games while Cameron goes around chatting to people. Tate and Zoey find some alone time, whether it’s spent going over songs, band business, or being intimate together.
Liam doesn’t have a set routine, though. Most times, he heads to the bus with his sticks and practices a few rhythms before having a shower and a nap. Occasionally, he’ll join Cameron chatting with people. One time, he even had a driver take us shopping. He doesn’t have a routine until five minutes before he’s due on stage. It’s at that time he’ll take up his drumsticks and fall silent. He’ll shut his eyes, and I know to leave him alone. All I’ll see is his body moving as he practices beats in his head. I watch him every time he does it because it’s mesmerizing, and I love it.
“I think we’ll head back to the bus and chill out,” Liam informs Austin and takes my hand. “Is that all right with you, Yivi? They should have the press under control by now, but obviously there’ll still be some there.”