“I’ll have a beer,” Daniel tells her.
She looks down at me. “Screwdriver,” I say, unsure of why we’re drinking so soon after breakfast.
When she walks away, Daniel places his head in his hands, his elbows resting on the table. He rubs them over his head, looking stressed.
“What’s going on, Daniel? I mean, I know we’ve had a few people come up to us, but that’s nothing compared to how things are going to be.”
He looks at me and his eyes are bloodshot from rubbing them. “We’re supposed to be staying quiet about our relationship. Now those photos will probably be splashed all over social media,” he points out.
Oh. I didn’t think of that. Almost on cue, my phone rings and I pull it out of my back pocket to see Van’s name flashing on the screen. I show Daniel the screen so he’ll know to keep quiet.
“Hello?”
“Hey, what’s going on?”
“What do you mean?” I ask, mouthing the words thank you as the bartender puts my drink in front of me.
“Lane was just sitting here fucking with his phone and he found a picture of you and Daniel together. Someone tagged it with the band’s name. Are you guys messing around again?”
I roll my eyes. “No, we’re friends, Van. We’re having a meeting. That’s it.”
“A meeting? Does the rest of the band need to attend this meeting?” The way he says it annoys me. He obviously doesn’t trust me.
“No, Van, it’s nothing like that. We’re just talking about the tour and what he’ll be doing for the band while we’re gone. It’s cool.”
“All right, I just wanted to make sure that everything was okay. I know I probably sound like a jealous ex-boyfriend or something, but that’s not it at all, okay?”
“Sure, Van. I’ll see you at the show tonight.” I hang up the phone and slip it back into my pocket.
“So am I allowed to go to the show?”
“Of course. Please come. And now that the band knows we’re cool, we can be seen together without raising suspicion.”
We have our drinks and only stay long enough for the small crowd to disperse. We leave the bar and walk through town and go in and out of stores. We browse books, antiques, and random stores that sell body jewelry, records, and music merch. I find a cute silver bracelet with sparkly black beads but put it back down, not wanting to spend more until I’m actually making money. We leave the store ready to end our day. It’s going on 5 p.m. and I need to get ready for the show.
When we walk out, Daniel pulls me back by my hand. “I saw you looking at this and thought you’d like it,” he says, pulling the bracelet out of his pocket.
I gasp. “Did you steal this?” I ask, taking it from him. It’s not in a bag or anything, so what else am I supposed to think?
He laughs and takes it back. “No, I paid when you weren’t looking.” He places it on my wrist and clasps it.
I hold it out and turn it from side to side, watching as the sun causes the beads to sparkle. “It’s beautiful. Thank you.” I lean forward, pressing a kiss to his lips. “I’ll wear it always,” I promise. And I mean it.
Hours later, I’m backstage putting all the finishing touches on my face when I get a text from Daniel saying he’s here but security won’t let him back. I slip out of my private dressing room to get him.
I find him arguing with the security guard and wave him back.
“Are you sure?” the man asks. I smile and nod and he finally allows Daniel to join me.
“They’ve got this place locked up tighter than Fort Knox,” he jokes as he follows me back to my dressing room.
I laugh but open the door, allowing him to walk in ahead of me. He takes in the room, which is rather nice. There are flowers on the table and a tray of food sits next to a bowl with iced-down water bottles in it.
“Where’s the rest of the band?”
“Boys get one, girls get the other. Lucky for me, I’m the only girl,” I say, leaning in to kiss him. As it often goes when we kiss, one thing leads to another and I find myself held against a wall while he pumps in and out of me. My breathing is loud and labored, with soft moans slipping past my lips as he pushes me to the brink of shattering.
Someone knocks on the door. “Luna, let’s go. Time’s up!” Van shouts from the other side. Neither of us moves until we’re both completely spent. I fix my dress and slide my panties back in place while he fixes his clothing. He hides behind the door as I open it. Van is there to greet me.
“What the fuck were you doing in there? Sounded like you were having sex with all that moaning,” he jokes.
As I step into the hallway, I close the door behind me and shrug as we start walking to the stage. “I like to rub one out before a show. It helps with the nerves,” I lie, but even the lie is embarrassing.
His eyes double their usual size as his feet stop walking. “Did you just say you were masturbating in there?”
I roll my eyes. “What? You think guys are the only ones who do it?”
“No, but I thought we were the only ones who admitted to doing it,” he says as he forces his feet to get back to walking.
We’re at the side of the stage now and people are handing us our instruments.
“Hey guys,” Van says, getting the attention of the other two, “guess what Luna does before a show!” He’s smiling from ear to ear.
“What?” Lane asks, completely unaware of our previous conversation.
“She rubs one out,” he says.
The guys’ mouths drop open as their eyes land on mine. My face is on fire, but what else can I do? I can’t say I was having sex with Daniel in there.
“What? No way!” Lane says.
“Her exact words,” Van laughs.
Ridge smiles and nods toward me. “That’s hot, Luna.”
“Ugh, shut up and get serious. We’re on.”
Suddenly we hear the club owner say, “Please give a warm welcome to the next big thing, The Wonder Kings!”
The lights go dark and the crowd gets quiet. My fingers start sliding across the strings. The crowd starts to scream and the pyrotechnics go off—fire shooting up in the air. Then we rush the stage. The music comes easy and it’s a song we’ve been playing for years, so it’s like my lips know the words and my fingers know the chords all on their own. I don’t even have to focus on this song, so I do my job of playing and singing, but my eyes are taking in the crowd before us. They’re screaming and jumping up and down, dancing with the music. Camera flashes are going off and there’s even a guy on the ground with a camera, recording the show.
We get exactly 20 minutes to play, and we need to have this crowd eating out of the palms of our hands before we leave. We want them buying T-shirts and digital downloads before they leave—pumping them up so they want to come and see us on tour and buy the vinyl once it’s released. The rest of our time is spent focusing on doing our jobs and putting on a hell of a show. This is nothing like our previous performances, but nothing compared to what the future will bring. This isn’t some small, smoke-filled bar. It’s a big amphitheater, holding thousands of people. Laser lights and fire dance around us. It’s a whole production.