Total pages in book: 32
Estimated words: 32051 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 160(@200wpm)___ 128(@250wpm)___ 107(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 32051 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 160(@200wpm)___ 128(@250wpm)___ 107(@300wpm)
I don’t let myself think about him because even though we decided years ago we were doing the right thing, it has always felt wrong.
Hooking up with other guys has always left me with a sense of guilt and emptiness. My body’s there for it, but my mind is somewhere else. Trying to have relationships is even worse. I can never give myself fully when I’ve always belonged to someone else. So I don’t even try anymore.
I wrap my lower half in a towel and open the door to find Thorne holding up my least favorite pair of leather pants.
“No,” I complain.
“They make your ass look great.”
“They cut off circulation to my balls.”
“It’s not like you’re going to reproduce anyway.” He throws them at me.
“How homophobic of you. Lots of gay people are parents.”
“I meant that because you’re you, not because you’re gay, asshole.”
“Yes, my asshole is very gay.”
“Get dressed already.”
I huff and then start the arduous task of slipping into these pants. I try jumping, getting on the floor and wiggling them up my legs, and when all that doesn’t work, I kick around and hope for a miracle.
The guys find my struggle hilarious, but none of them come to try and help me.
“I hate you all.” I grunt.
Seb’s the one to come to my rescue.
He gets me off the ground and tells me to hold on to the doorframe of the bathroom. His big, guitar-playing hands yank the pants up, but they move maybe an inch.
At least they’re up to my thighs now.
By the time they’re finally in place, we’re both sweaty and breathing heavy.
“Was it good for you?” Seb slaps my shoulder.
I shove him away from me. “Not even a little bit. Which I’m sure you’ve heard a lot.”
He waggles his fingers. “Whatever. These are magic.”
“I’ll take your word for it.”
We have one rule in our band: no fucking around with each other. Pretty easy for Greg and Jasper, the straight boys. Seb and I agreed early on not to get involved in band drama. The music always comes first.
I know some acts do their VIP meet and greets after their show, but we like to get it out of the way. After the set is for relaxing and partying. By that time, I’m done being on.
It means we have to be at the arena stupidly early, like midafternoon. That’s still the middle of the goddamn night if you ask me.
I slip on a black button-up but leave it undone, run some product through my long messy hair, apply a thin layer of eyeliner, and then turn to everyone. “Done.”
“You’re so pretty,” Jasper says, and I flip him off.
We take our time meeting with fans and taking photos, but my head’s not in it. The guys pick up the slack for me, doing most of the talking and charming everyone.
I can fake smiles and answer questions, but my personality is flat.
At one point, Seb leans in close. “Why are you being weird?”
“Why are you being weird?” I bite.
“I’m always weird.”
“True.”
“You’re not … yourself.”
“And what is myself?”
“Lively. Happy. A pain in the ass. You’re not quiet.”
Sebastian came into my life after I’d given up on Sherlock. He’s my best friend, and there isn’t much I don’t tell him. But Sherlock … I don’t speak about him. Most days, I pretend he doesn’t exist, just like his internet presence.
“We’ll talk later?”
He throws his arm around my shoulder for a photo. “Pull it together, man.”
I do. Mostly.
It’s not until we’re stage side, ready to go on, that it hits me again.
I flash back to those first few years without him. I ran a blog called Operation: Death Valley. It basically documented the highs and lows of trying to make it in the biz, all with the end goal of making it to the festival where my high school love and I had agreed to meet.
I kept it going for a year after Sherlock disappeared.
Then I got mad and deleted it all.
And now the opportunity to go to Death Valley is here. Seven years later than I thought I would be.
I stare out at the packed stadium of tonight’s show. Our current tour is going well, and our fan base is growing daily. Our singles regularly hit number one in rock on iTunes, and as soon as this tour’s over, we’re going to be cutting our third studio album. Two albums in three years have been pushing us and working us until we’re bone-tired, but right now … this moment …
“Ever experience one of those times where you realize everything you’ve been working for is right in front of you?” I blurt out.
My bandmates look at me as if I’m crazy.
To be fair, if I’m only now realizing we’re famous, I might be a little slow. But it’s the first time I’ve actually thought … Holy shit. This is my life now.