by Nikki Wild
“Alright!” He clasped his hands together loudly. “Let’s do this thing!”
Nicole was standing behind the main camera, watching us through the screen. “Act natural, guys! You’ve got the look. This is gonna be a hit. I’ll be rootin’ for you!”
The photo shoot lasted about ninety minutes overall. In that timeframe, it looked like dozens of photos had been snapped of us, both collectively as a unified band and as single showcase shots. We had been positioned in a few different spots to put us all in frame together, and each of us was put in separate, distinct locations for follow-up promotional photography. Most of those were against cracked, yellow railings, in dark corners beneath red lighting, or near a long-forgotten control console. Each one had been meticulously chosen and prepared before we even arrived.
The entire time, Nicole had been giving us encouraging advice between answering emails and calling the Snow Leopard promo website staff. She seemed to always know the best time to cover her phone’s mic, rush over to quickly peer in the camera’s viewfinder, and flash us an enthusiastic thumbs up.
“Phoenix, Aiden, Dylan, I want one more shot with just the three of you,” Stefan said, drawing us all in close as one of his assistants bathed us in red light.
I tried to keep my cool as he placed me between them, walking us all through the pose he was looking for. Dylan was asked to lace his fingers through my hair and lock eyes with me while Aiden stepped up behind me, bringing his lips just shy of my shoulder and sending shivers down my spine as his hot breath played across my exposed neck.
It was raw torture as the camera fired off picture after picture. Aiden’s strong hand pressed up against my side, resting just above my hip and gripping me hard enough that he was tugging at my miniskirt. Dylan seemed to notice the distraction in my eyes, his fingers closing tighter through my hair and pulling at my scalp, making it clear that he wanted my undivided attention.
“Good job, everyone!” Stefan beamed as he turned off the main camera and signaled his assistants. I let out a huge sigh of relief and frustration as I pulled away from the twins. The camera assistants began scurrying about, breaking down backdrop lighting as we all took a collective sigh.
“So, when do we get to see these?” I asked, wandering over to Stefan.
He was busy dismantling the camera and its stand, but cast a warm grin my way. “The best ones will be up on the website in a couple of days, along with your interview.”
“Interview?” Carter asked, strolling up. “I thought you said that wasn’t an interview earlier. Does knowing my favourite animal do it for the social media stuff these days?”
“You’d be surprised,” Stefan raised an eyebrow. “But no, not that interview. Wait… you guys didn’t know about that?”
Nicole cut in, walking back over and slipping her phone back into her pocket. “No, I thought I’d let them have lunch first. But we…” She glanced at her wristwatch. “Oh fuck. Yeah, we’ve gotta cut and run!”
She gave Stefan a warm side-hug, affectionately messing with his curly hair with her free hand. “Thanks for doing this on short notice. You know I owe ya.”
“Anything for an old friend,” he smiled. “Besides. I’ve got a feeling that getting my name attached to this is gonna pay for itself in due time…”
“Such faith!” Nicole laughed. “That’s exactly the kind of spirit I need to make this thing happen. Until next time, dear… and tell Mario I send my love.”
“Absolutely. Good luck with everything!”
We thanked the photographer and his team for the opportunity, and Nicole quickly scooted us outside.
“Interview?” I asked curiously, still trying to ignore the rising heat between my thighs
“You guys did keep your day free, right?” She lifted an eyebrow in mock concern. “Jeremy was supposed to tell you about that. Guess not. That man, I swear…”
“So, we’re getting lunch next, right?” Trevor asked. “I remember somebody saying ‘lunch’ and, let me tell you, I am starving.”
She glanced at her watch.
“Yeah, it’s that time. I’ve gone ahead and already put something together. Anyone got a problem with Mexican food?”
When nobody objected, she led the way.
It was already hitting early afternoon, so we piled in the van and followed her red little coupe down the main street of town. We pulled in behind her at a pretty awesome place called El Mexicano (super original, I know) that had been popping for ages.
“Hi there! Reservation for seven… should be under Fisher,” Nicole confirmed with the hostess.
It was only halfway to our spot, a round table in a quieter, private seating room, that the obvious problem in the math pinged back an error to my brain. Judging by their faces, the others seemed to be thinking the same thing.
Once we arrived, a curious man I that can only describe as a thin, snappily dressed lumberjack was sitting at our booth.
“Meet Jack,” Nicole introduced our guest, who rose to shake our hands. “He’s gonna be conducting the interview on behalf of Snow Leopard. But I thought we’d do it after a nice, delicious meal first!”
“Happy to meet you guys!” Jack told us. “Steven hasn’t sounded this damn excited about a new band in a while, so I’m eager to see what I can do to help.”
First – a national tour.
Second – a big photo shoot.
Third – a private interview?
“I’m hoping we can live up to the hype,” Dylan shook his head with a confused smile as we all took our seats.
“Hah!” The interviewer had such a casual air to him, even in a moment of laughter. I couldn’t help but be totally at ease.
My gaze slid over all the others as we got comfortable. Aiden slipped into the booth first, and I followed, scooting round the table. A few seconds later, I felt Dylan slide up beside me, and I realized I’d just put myself right between them again.
Nicole was glancing around for the waitress. Carter was cool as always but surprisingly relaxed. Trevor had an impish, anticipatory look on his face. I turned my head a bit further to the right.
Aiden…
Aiden’s gaze instantly met mine, and he smiled wickedly. I felt a moment’s warmth burn in my core, and I swallowed quickly.
His smile just noticeably grew bigger, and my skin jumped as Aiden’s hand grasped strongly onto my thigh just beneath the table. I spun my head left to hide my reaction from his dominating eyes.
Of course, that put my eyes firmly on Dylan, who was flashing me a sexy, serene smile as his own fingertips softly brushed up and over the skin just above my knee, slipping upward and settling at the edge of my skirt. It took every fiber of my being not to reach under the table and force his hand even higher.
My heat level was reaching critical mass. What the fuck are these guys doing to me? Get your shit together, girl…
“We can wait until after we’ve eaten,” Jack was saying as the waitress walked into view. “I say, let’s just get to know each other a little first. After that, we can absolutely get down to business.”
Luckily, we’d shown up after the lunch rush was over. In that twenty minutes, we got to know Jack pretty well, and I found myself desperately trying not to beg for release as the twins held me in place.
I focused on the task at hand.
Jack lived less than an hour away, in the next major city over. After getting his degree in journalism, he wound up becoming what sounded like a professional reporter for the local music scene. He even wrote a column in a major national magazine and contributed material to a few of the bigger websites.
In short, the guy was pretty awesome.
Food finally arrived, and I breathed deeply as Aiden and Dylan brought their hands back up above the table to dig in. There were large plates of beef tacos, cheesy enchiladas, thick chimichangas, and sizzling chicken and shrimp fajitas. I was thankful to hit pause on the getting to know you stage and dug right in.
It was about ten minutes
later that we had all eaten our fill. The waitress came back with takeaway boxes, and we quickly started packing up the leftovers.
“Alright,” Jack wiped his hands clean with a napkin afterwards. He dug out a notepad and pen from his jacket pockets. “We’ve got some work to do. Just answer to the best of your abilities. This isn’t my first time doing this, so I’ll bring out the best in you guys…”
Phoenix
“Welcome to the next stage, kids.”
There was a massive, satisfied grin on Jeremy’s face as the five of us piled out of the van. I couldn’t possibly take my eyes off the monolithic bus behind him.
I knew that I wasn’t the only one.
“The record label got us a tour bus?” Trevor gasped aloud. “No way!”
Jeremy chuckled sheepishly. “Told you he was pulling out all the stops… But yeah, I’ve gotta admit. I was a little surprised too.”
“This is all a little too much,” Carter murmured. “Why are we being treated to all this lavish shit?”
Jeremy scratched the back of his head. “The way I’ve been told, they simply reallocated the resources from that failed band straight to you guys. Apparently, Steven Stone is a man of faith.”
Carter didn’t look convinced.
“Nicole probably knew a little more than I did, honestly,” he shrugged. “But since she was only around for a one-day deal and is already out of town for some private gigs, all I can say is just to pinch your arms and if you don’t wake up… go with it, guys.”
That was as sound advice as any.
Jeremy turned over his shoulder to glance at our home for the next two months. “It’s a beauty, isn’t it? As I’ve been told, this baby’s only seen three tours so far. You kids are lucky number four.”
“I can’t wait to see inside this thing!” Trevor laughed, pushing past us for the bus.
“Uh-uh, sport,” Jeremy stopped him in his tracks, grabbing him by the scruff of his jacket. “Equipment first, then the shiny new digs. Got it?”
It was funny to watch the punk put on his thickest pouting face, but he agreed.
I accidentally brushed against Aiden while reaching for my cases. It felt like a traitorous spark clicked inside, waiting to build into a flame like before...
Blowing it out with a sigh, I turned away.
Aiden didn’t say a word, but I knew he wanted to. Hell, I could feel his eyes burn into the back of my head as I scooped up my equipment and stepped away.
I felt another gaze, and knew that Dylan was watching me quietly. A slight turn of my head proved it when I saw him hide what looked like a loving glance.
Why can I always feel it when either twin is looking at me? I wondered to myself.
We grabbed our things and followed Jeremy over to the towering bus, careful to not drop or break anything. The crackling excitement was palpable in the air. All of us could feel it.
Even Aiden was visibly thrilled.
Once we were fifteen feet from the door, a large panel along the underside of the bus popped open and lifted. The driver wandered out and gave us a hand securing our equipment in the luggage area, then let us onto the tour bus.
I couldn’t believe my goddamn eyes.
The interior of the bus was outfitted as if it was made for goddamn royalty.
The first room was a den, featuring a couple of plush couches and recliners set along the right wall, with a comfortable booth table behind. The left space was dominated by an angled and mounted flat-screen television. Beneath the TV and along the wall was an entertainment center, stacked with video game consoles, games, and a ton of DVDs.
My bandmates, even Aiden, were all but salivating at the mere sight of it.
The next room was a kitchen area with upper and lower cabinets, countertop sinks, and a mini-refrigerator. There were two countertop burners, a toaster oven, and a regular toaster. But my eyes trailed back to those sinks.
“This thing has running water?” I asked Jeremy while the others were glancing around curiously.
“You might’ve noticed by now that this thing’s a little more advanced than your little band van,” he smiled knowingly.
We continued past the kitchen, where he pointed out the space efficient bathroom and shower, then opened the door to a small practice chamber. While there was enough room for the guitarists and a microphone, the space was just barely big enough for a drum kit spot.
“Sorry, man,” Jeremy turned to Carter, who was frowning at the room. “You’re not going to be able to do your arms-flailing shit with this space. But at least the kit will fit!”
Carter shook his head grumpily.
“And last but not least…”
Past one last door, eight comfortable bunks were positioned in two columns of two on either side. I spotted small televisions in the ceilings, and remotes that clipped into the wall. A new pair of earbuds was sitting on every bunk.
“Holy shit, no more sleeping on the floor!” Trevor laughed. I raised an eyebrow at him as the others fell in love with the bunks at first sight.
“Earphones plug into the bottom of the remote,” Jeremy noted before anybody asked. “Lets you enjoy a movie without disturbing any of the others.”
“And what’s through there?” I asked, pointing at the door just past the bunks.
“That’s the VIP room. Queen bed, closet, and a little en-suite bathroom. I’ll let you all fight over who gets that one,” Jeremy said.
“It’s mine,” I said loudly, throwing open the door and taking a flying leap onto the overstuffed mattress. “I called it, I claimed it.”
“No arguments from me,” Jeremy said as the rest of the band laughed. He reached out to grab my hand and helped me back up off the bed before corralling us forward to the den.
“So.” Our tour manager opened his arms out, “What do ya think?”
“I think I want to live on this bus for the rest of my fucking life,” Trevor blurted.
I’ve never heard all of us laugh like that. My eye briefly caught Dylan’s, and he simply drew his lips back into a warm smile.
“I think we’ll take it,” he replied, his eyes still on mine.
“Alright then, give me a quick second to let the label know we’re ready, and we’ll hit the road. Our first stop is Houston.”
“Houston?” I asked, catching him with my eyes. “We’re doing Houston first?”
“Goddamned right we are.” Jeremy dug his phone from his pocket as he walked back towards the front, a bounce in his step.
I heard dead weight falling and spun around. The rest of the band had dropped down onto the couches, their hands running over the soft material with star-struck looks in their eyes.
Thirsty, I walked over to the kitchen area and dug around in the cabinets for a glass. The available set was plastic, which was probably a good idea, especially considering how cumbersome and lumbering the bus was going to be on the road.
“Anyone want anything while I’m up?”
“Nah, I’m good,” Carter called out.
Aiden turned my way, lifting a limp, level hand and briefly disk jockeying it in the international standard for no.
Dylan shook his head too, taking a relaxing seat in the den.
I poured myself a glass of water while the boys enjoyed the new living space. Trevor, however, quickly leapt up and started digging through the games.
“Holy shit, these guys have Mario Kart!”
“Which Mario Kart?” Aiden asked.
“Let’s see… Super Nintendo… Nintendo 64… Gamecube… all of them?” He peered through the glass panels. “Hell, they’ve even got those old-school Game Boys up in this shit!”
I rolled my eyes.
I dropped down into one of the reclining chairs. Within seconds, I was marveling at how comfortable it was.
“Nice, isn’t it?” Aiden smiled at me.
“You’re telling me…”
“Makes me wonder why this is happening,” he thought aloud. “Carter had a point. We’ve
never even met this big label guy. He wasn’t there at the contract signings… why is he blowing all this stuff on us?”
“Learn to take good fortune every once in a while,” Dylan replied for me. “Dude, we’ve been putting in the legwork for years to get to this point. Maybe this is just our lucky break finally kicking in!”
I wasn’t sure I accepted that.
“I don’t know,” I chimed in. “I mean, it is odd that we were offered all this stuff based off a single performance.”
“Who can say?” Dylan shrugged. “We’ll meet this guy, sooner or later. Until then, I’m choosing to take it as it comes. No reason to put words in his mouth when he’s busy running an obviously successful record label half a country away.”
I thought on that for a moment, nodding lightly. Perhaps Dylan’s point was valid too. My gaze skimmed over Aiden. He merely raised his eyebrows and looked away.
Jeremy was back on the bus shortly after that, pulling up something on his phone. “Alright, everyone. I’ve got the itinerary now. First show is tomorrow night in Houston. We’ll be there in about twenty hours of driving.”
“Tomorrow night?” I exclaimed.
“That’s right,” our manager nodded. “So, get your rest if you need to, practice your scales. Unless you need your gear now, that can wait until after you’ve had lunch.”
“When’s the show?” Carter asked.
“You’ll need to be onstage for ten o’clock. Doors open at nine for the opener. You guys don’t have to worry about setting up the equipment or anything. The roadies will take care of that.”
“The roadies?” I raised an eyebrow.
“Yeah,” Jeremy smiled. “A tour van will be following us from that show and on. Stagehands and roadies, you name it. Steven Stone wants you to stay focused on the performances. You guys need anything from me?”
We all shook our heads in partial shock.
“Cool. I’m going to be taking some phone calls up front while we get going, so do your thing, and be ready to kill it tomorrow. This is the band’s first national tour show, so bring your best to that stage. Make us all proud.”
He turned to leave.