Not Another Boy Band

by Z. Allora

  The doorbell rang.

  “I’ll get it.” Zen hustled out of the music room.

  Within a minute, Zen strolled back in.

  “Who was it?” Wayuu asked.

  Zen shrugged. “Just some people.”

  “Some people?” Sage asked.

  “A few people who are running our fan club?”

  What? Since when did Kashi-sei have a fan club?

  “Fan club? Nice.” Haru gave a happy guitar riff.

  Sage wanted to ask how many there were, but he settled for “Where are they?”

  “In the other room. Why?” Zen squinted at him and made a “you’re losing it, bro” face.

  Nervousness that people would hear them practice tried to skitter through him, but it was probably only two or three people. Sage pointed out the obvious, “Shouldn’t we go talk to them?”

  “Nah, they said they’d enjoy some tea until we’re done. We’ve got two more songs in this set, don’t we?” Zen asked like he didn’t remember.

  Without rolling his eyes, which took an impressive amount of effort, Sage said, “Fine. If you don’t think it’s rude—”

  “I take people at their word.” Zen smiled at him, and then his gaze slid over to Wayuu.

  Wayuu immediately glued his stare onto Sage. “Ready?”

  What the…? As long as whatever Wayuu and Zen had going on didn’t affect the music, Sage would keep his mouth shut. He gave a nod and then tapped his sticks together. “Five, six, seven, eight.”

  The song slid into another seamlessly.

  Sage ended the fast beat by slamming to a hard stop.

  Applause flooded the room.

  Sage glanced at the door to find half a dozen people clapping and smiling. Shock smashed into him at the number of people who’d heard him play live. Was that Zen’s plan?

  “Zen?”

  Zen twirled over to him as if he wasn’t a scheming mastermind. “We’ll chat later about how you survived your first live performance. Right now, we should talk to our fan club.”

  A gush of excited squeals sounded as Haru, Wayuu, and Zen were swallowed up by the small crowd.

  Maybe Sage should be mad, but Zen had warned him he planned on helping Sage get desensitized to an audience any way he could.

  He had played knowing there were people listening, but he didn’t want to get carried away. After all, not too many people could fit in their apartment.

  Sage set his sticks down and joined his bandmates, who were mingling with not a dozen, but close to twenty people.

  Two guys and a girl stepped over to him. The taller guy said, “Man, you guys are so talented. The show is going to be fantastic.”

  “Thank you. My bandmates are great.”

  “Don’t be modest.” The other guy did an air drum solo ending with a flourish. “I cannot wait until tomorrow night.”

  “I watch your YouTube channel. I love your videos,” said the young woman in English.

  Many of the people came over and expressed similar positive affirmations. Every one of them promised to be at the show cheering for him.

  “Maybe this won’t be so bad,” Sage whispered to Haru.

  THE HOUSE lights were on, which allowed Sage a clear view of all the chairs and tables. So many! Anxiety tackled him. He wiped his forehead and turned back to the band. “It’s bad. It’s really bad.”

  “Take the medicine. You’ve had no side effects when you tried it, so let’s see if it helps,” Daiki suggested for the third time.

  Right, the medicine would calm him.

  He was having trouble catching his breath, so his thoughts weren’t quite coherent over the buzz in his brain. “Daiki, I—”

  Haru glared at him. “I thought Americans were all about therapy and enhanced living through herbal and chemical intervention. Or do you think people who need medication to control an issue are weak?”

  “It’s not that. Just….” Sage struggled to find the words. “It’s hard to reach for help.”

  “No reaching necessary. Open.” Daiki was there, and he dropped the tablet into Sage’s mouth and handed him water.

  He swallowed the damned little pill, and even that action made Sage feel he was more in control. Maybe he could do this.

  Wayuu shook his head and did some stretches. “You got this, Sage.”

  Sage opened his mouth, but Daiki stepped behind him. “You’ll probably start feeling a bit calmer by the end of your sound check.”

  “Just having you next to me is doing that.” This time around, while anxiety was riding him, having people in his corner, especially Daiki, made him more willing to believe he had a hope of overriding the pressure.

  Haru called out, “Sound check.”

  Zen hurried after him. “Right behind you, Butterscotch.”

  Ichika folded her arms over her chest, stepped in front of Zen, and glared. “We discussed this.”

  Shaking his head, Zen claimed, “I’m only teasing.”

  “I’m the only one who may call him that.” Her sharp words weren’t dulled by the sweet smile she gave him.

  Sage had learned great respect for Ichika. She was all cuddly bunny with Haru and killer rabbit with anyone who messed with him.

  Growling, Haru glared at Zen as he strapped on his bass.

  Sage moved behind the drums, and the sound check went without a hitch.

  AFTER TOO short a time, Wayuu stopped jumping and announced, “It’s showtime.”

  Already?

  Sage swallowed hard and peered into the bar. Every seat was filled, and people lined the walls. The room grew. Too big.

  “Hey, only a little bit more than you already played for… right?” Zen’s concerned smile didn’t reach his eyes.

  “Not helping.” Sage backed around behind the boxes that doubled as a privacy wall. He focused on his breathing. His chest hurt, and it was hot.

  Daiki rubbed his shoulders. “Think past the show to later….”

  “Later?” Sage tried to put a purr in his voice.

  Daiki had promised in great detail that whatever happened on stage wouldn’t affect their private aftershow party.

  “Yes, later.” Daiki smirked at him and stepped in front of him. With all the boldness of one of his characters, Daiki grazed his hand over Sage’s erection.

  Right here… behind some boxes. They weren’t even behind a curtain!

  Sage tried to say something, but his words came out as grumbled desperation. Another first with Daiki.

  Daiki gave him a hungry look.

  “Daiki, I—”

  Zen grabbed Sage’s wrists as if suspicious he would flee. Okay, probably a good precaution, with his record. “Hey, Daiki. You’ve got the blindfold?”

  Daiki pulled a strip of black fabric from his pocket.

  As Sage leaned in, he inhaled the leather jacket Daiki wore, along with everything he was.

  “Keep me in your head. You’re playing for just me.” Daiki secured the fabric around Sage’s eyes and then gave him a deep, toe-curling kiss.

  Display of affection in public?

  Wishing he could see Daiki’s cheeks tint, Sage muttered in English, “Well, damn. Fuck me.”

  “Whenever you want. All you’ve got to do is ask,” Daiki reminded him, as if he didn’t recall the offer.

  Images of Daiki taking him flashed through his mind. “Oh, um—”

  “I wonder if you’ll ask me tonight… or if we won’t make it out of the club. You haven’t been blown in a club bathroom in far too long.” Daiki sounded like he was reading from one of his mangas. Maybe he was, but wow, that was a book Sage wanted to read.

  Daiki swiped a wet finger over Sage’s lower lip.

  Lust barreled into Sage. “You’re trying to kill me.”

  “No, simply reminding you of priorities.” Daiki hugged him, which allowed them to be pressed together.

  Sage shivered. He turned his head and dragged his lips against Daiki’s neck.

  Zen cleared his throat. “Sage,
just ’cause you can’t see us doesn’t mean we can’t see you.”

  Haru chuckled.

  “But hey, way to solve stage fright.” Zen snorted right next to Sage and then shoulder-bumped him.

  “Do you want Daiki to walk you out, or one of us?” Wayuu asked in his serious band-related voice.

  “Daiki.” Sage wanted the excuse to wrap an arm around him.

  Daiki guided him around the boxes and onto the darkened stage to his seat behind the drums. He kept sliding his hand over Sage’s ass.

  “You going to put this in the manga too?” If Sage could think past his interest in later, he might be curious.

  The chuckle Daiki gave him was dark and lit him on fire. “I’m going to put something somewhere.”

  An “Oh” escaped Sage because he didn’t see the slap on the side of his ass coming when Daiki’s hand connected to his butt.

  Daiki rested his hands on Sage’s thighs and leaned in. “Later. Whatever happens out here won’t change…. See you in a bit.”

  Dirty flashes of the promised later taunted Sage. Sexual frustration wasn’t pleasant, but it sure beat brain-eating anxiety. The medicine must have kicked in, or maybe it was his focus on later….

  A bit of laughter, the clinking of glasses, scraping of chairs, coughs, and snippets of conservation drifted from the audience. They were there, but not seeing them helped.

  “Count us in,” Zen demanded from somewhere in front of Sage.

  “One, two, three.” He tapped his sticks and then depended on muscle memory and the song to guide his hands.

  He cautiously opened his eyes behind the blindfold. The strip of fabric made seeing hard, but not impossible. He decided to close his eyes again—not out of fear but wanting to feel the connection with the music and his band.

  At the end of the first song, a million-year pause ensued between Haru’s last note on his bass and the crowd erupting in applause.

  After drinking in the love, Zen greeted the crowd. “We welcome you to the first real debut of all the members of Kashi-sei. The English word is visibility, and that’s what we want to accomplish. We want to make great music and allow fans to be themselves. Kashi-sei will lead by example. We will try to be our authentic selves, though between you and me, that might not look as expected. We hope not to disappoint, but Kashi-sei will be a band that celebrates the different and the uniqueness in all of us. Thank you for your open minds.”

  The audience applauded. Though in truth they would have clapped if Zen talked utter nonsense, because he was Suzuki Zen.

  He introduced himself and then Wayuu. As if the two idols wouldn’t be recognized. Then he handed the audience over to Wayuu.

  “In terms of being more me….” Wayuu must have taken off his leather jacket to reveal his sparkly purple T-shirt with a unicorn in bondage on it, if the gasps, then applause, were anything to go by. “Allow me to introduce Yamamoto Haru-san. He just needs to hear something once before it’s his.”

  Haru gave a small riff of agreement on his strings.

  Wayuu continued, “The man behind the drums is also the man behind Kashi-sei’s concept. He brought us all together.”

  The crowd clapped and chanted his name. “Sage! Sage! Sage!”

  Holy fuck! That didn’t happen in the studio. He felt pleased, humbled, and psyched all at the same time and waved his drumsticks.

  “Oh, yeah, about the blindfold. Sage is either shy or kinky.” Wayuu’s playfulness did have a way of making everything sexual.

  “Can’t he be both?” Zen asked, much to the audience’s elation.

  Sage gave a rim shot.

  “Most definitely. I hope he is,” Wayuu purred and then continued, “In light of that possibility, here’s our next song. You might have seen pics floating around, or if you were really lucky, a naughty little clip.”

  Way to own it, Way!

  Counting the band in felt good. Playing was awesome. Performing in front of an audience… well, the jury was still out. But he survived.

  When Sage stepped back around the boxes after their last encore, he sagged in relief and took off his blindfold.

  He’d done it.

  Daiki gave him a hungry look as he showed him a sign in scroll letters that read “Bathroom out of order. Please use other one.”

  Sage couldn’t think of a better way to celebrate surviving.

  The same could not be said for the soap dispenser in the bathroom. He or Daiki or maybe both of them backed into the container and slammed it off the wall. Luckily it had been out of soap for a while.

  Daiki looked shocked when Sage dropped to his knees. “What are you doing?”

  Why? “Didn’t you say it had been a while since you’ve been blown in a bathroom?”

  “No, I said—” Whatever Daiki meant to say was lost to his moans.

  Sage sucked harder.

  TIME’S BEAT kept ticking on, and the summer concert season was here.

  Sage glanced around. This was by far the biggest place the band had played. The venues had steadily grown in size, but this was much larger than their original debut, when he’d bolted.

  He poked his head back around the curtain to look out. There were at least twice as many people packed in as had attended the concert he’d ghosted. He shook his head—as if that would help him figure out what to do.

  “You did fine in sound check,” Haru reminded him.

  “Yeah, but now there’s people.” Sage frowned and pointed at the closed curtain.

  Zen arched his eyebrow. “That tends to happen, especially when you sell tickets.”

  Haru snapped his fingers. “That’s where we went wrong.”

  Even as his heart began to race, Sage couldn’t help laughing. “Shut up, both of you.”

  Ichika cleared her throat from the corner.

  “Oops. Sorry, Ichika. I was joking.”

  Her frown became a smile. “I know, Sage. I’m teasing.”

  Zen stomped his foot. “That’s not fair! Why does Sage get to—”

  She narrowed her eyes on Zen and then arched her eyebrow at him as if she was daring him to continue whining.

  Holding his hands out in front of him, Zen shook his head. “Fine.”

  “Are you pouting?” Sage teased as he tried to hold it together.

  “Of course not. But let’s admit she’s not being fair.” Zen sniffed.

  Teasing aside, reality seeped in, making Sage swallow hard. “There’s a lot of people out there.”

  Wayuu was doing his preshow jumping. He bounced over. “This feeling you have—”

  “You mean terror?” Sage wanted to be clear.

  “Yes, that. It’s actually excitement.”

  “Excitement?” Sage could feel the medicine trying to calm his ass down, but his anxiety still kept him wanting to scale the walls. He took the second pill, which was the limit.

  “Doesn’t matter how big or small the place we play in, you’re the drummer. Everything goes at your pace.” Zen gathered them in a huddle. “Besides, we are awesome. When we go out on that stage, whatever happens, happens.”

  “That’s what I’m worried about.” Sage pointed out the obvious, which seemed to be lost on these three.

  Wayuu and Zen stood on either side of Sage. They were in the idol zone, so nothing seemed to touch them. Even Haru seemed fascinated by the glitter and glam flowing from their aura.

  Zen glanced at Wayuu for a moment and then gave Sage a small smile. He seemed to understand what they were exuding. “You want to feel this… be this?”

  Who wouldn’t? Sage nodded.

  “Take it. No one is going to give you this feeling, not even the fans. You’ve got to know in your heart that this is what you were born to do,” Zen challenged him.

  Wayuu looked him dead in the eyes with all his idol power and said, “This is your dream. Live it.”

  Haru pointed at Wayuu and Zen. “Yes! This is what I’m talking about. I’m pumped. Sage?”

  Sage gave a halfhearted n
od.

  Zen gripped him tighter into the circle. “Have no doubt. We will screw up. Haru will miss a chord. You’ll come in slow, or I’ll miss a note. It doesn’t matter. Own. All of it. It’s part of us. This isn’t about being perfect. This is about showing the world who we are. Letting people know they can show who they are. If you were serious about making a difference, this is what we’ve been working for. You learn more from your mistakes than getting it right.”

  “Yes.” Sage nodded. He’d accept all the crazy shit that might happen and then embrace the imperfections. Their goal wasn’t to be perfect but to make mistakes and keep on going. If he wasn’t strong enough to do it, how could he encourage their fans to be who they were?

  “We’ve got each other’s back. Kashi-sei on three.” Zen counted for them.

  “Kashi-sei!”

  Where was Daiki? Sage turned.

  Daiki was there behind him. He blindfolded Sage and guided him onto the stage. Sage had taken the herbal a bit earlier, so it was kicking in right on time.

  “No wicked promises?” Sage found he didn’t need the distraction but wanted something to look forward to.

  “No promises, just a question. Can I be inside you after the show?”

  Sage tried to form a sentence, but since he couldn’t even get a word past his lips, he gave a nod. When Daiki hadn’t followed up on his original suggestion, he’d figured Daiki wasn’t into it… but apparently he’d been wrong.

  “I can’t wait,” Daiki said in Sage’s ear as one of his hands traced over Sage’s ass.

  Sage swallowed hard and tried to process everything.

  The crowd began chanting “Kashi-sei.”

  Daiki was going to top him. It had been a while, so—

  He opened his eyes. The light peeked through the blindfold. Though it might be a train coming at him. “Fuck, I might as well enjoy the ride.”

  “Later, I’ll give you whatever kind of ride you’d like.” Daiki’s breath caressed the side of Sage’s face, and then he disappeared.

  The stage lights came on, and the crowd went crazy.

  Sage was in his spot behind his drums, and he adjusted his blindfold. The fabric was stretched a little thin, so he could see the shadows of his bandmates.