by KT Strange
My uncle looked me up and down. It'd been hard to pick out what I wanted to wear. Over the last few months, my uncle had sent me shopping to pad out my wardrobe with clothing. He wanted me to have clothes that weren't dug out of the discount bin at the local thrift store. Even though I had a school uniform, it was nice to be able to wear clothing that wasn’t on its last threads. It made me feel a little bit more like I was on equal footing with the other kids at Hidden River, who all rocked clothes out of school like they were right off Net-A-Porter.
I finally had jeans that had holes in them on purpose, instead of because they were worn through. It always amused me that I was paying more for clothing that had been purposefully distressed in the factory. “You look like one of those, what are they? Tumblr goth fairies, I think the kids call them?”
I laughed. So, I did have a few flower pins in my hair, since I’d put it up. And my shirt had an adorable pastel skull screen-printed on the soft-knit jersey. That didn't make me a Tumblr fairy, but he didn’t know the difference. I rolled my eyes at my uncle and leaned in to give him a hug. He embraced me hard.
“Do you still think I’m being corrupted?” I asked. “I think I’ve probably seen worse than anything that Shawn or Buck could put me through.” My uncle sighed and shook his head.
“They better do right by you,” was all he said. Then he frowned. “I’m not sure if I'm a fan of the eyeliner.”
I couldn't blame him for judging me on my liner game. I’d been going for a cat eye, and that hadn’t worked out too well. My hand-eye coordination wasn’t great, and my patience was less than stellar when it came to doing makeup. So I'd tried to correct it to make each side match. It was frustrating, to be sure. I was probably not the first or last woman have difficulty lining her eyes. Or to turn herself into a baby raccoon in the process.
“Well, I think I look great,” I lied. I was nervous about it, but what was Shawn going to do? Bitch about my liner not being right? If he did, I’d just text Buck, and Buck’d deal with him. These were the perks of having two boyfriends, I guess.
Moving to the door, I looked outside. Dust followed Shawn’s truck as he pulled into the driveway.
“I’ll be back in a few hours, don't wait up. And don't worry I'll be good, et cetera, et cetera,” I said as I darted through the front door. It seemed like the most nerve-racking first date that I’d ever go on. I wasn’t really sure which worry was more intense: knowing that Buck was waiting for me to text afterward to tell him how it went, or being nervous about the date itself.
Somehow, Buck knowing, and even being okay with it—and his encouragement to date Shawn—made me feel like I was under a microscope. What if it didn't work? What if I got really close to Shawn, and it wasn't anything like my relationship with Buck? What if it was different, but I hated it? What if I ended up loving him more than Buck? There was so much going on in my head that I felt a bit ill. Nausea, excitement… both of those things were what I wanted to feel on a first date with my best friend's ex-boyfriend.
I was pretty sure that I was going to go to Hell. Just saying.
I went to the truck, and Shawn leaned over, opening the door for me from the inside.
“Hey, gorgeous,” he said. He gave me a lazy grin and reached for my hand as I slid into my seat. “My competition takes you out to the diner in town. So I thought of something a little bit different for us.”
I raised an eyebrow at him.
“I like diners. And Buck is great at dates,” I replied. Shawn smiled and shook his head.
“Buckle up, we’re heading out,” he said.
I sank back into my seat and put my seatbelt on. The trees slid away as we moved onto the highway toward the city. I opened my window, letting my fingers trail in the warm wind as it rushed through them. It snagged my hair, and I had to tame the thick, dark strands with my other hand.
“Don’t lose your flowers,” Shawn said, when we came to a red light. He leaned over to grab one of my hair-pins before it worked it’s way out of my hair.
“I always end up losing these things,” I said. “My hair's so slippery. It hates keeping pins in.” His fingers brushed mine as he passed me the hairpin. I put the window up so the wind wouldn’t wreck my hair any more than it already had. Then I had to say it, because keeping it to myself wasn’t helping my nerves.
“Not to bring up a sensitive topic, or anything, but how much are we going to tell Shiv? Or… what are you going to tell her?” I buried my fingers in the soft sweater in my lap. I’d brought it with me to keep warm; the black yarn knit had beads worked into it at random intervals. Even in the dim light, the beads were beautiful. They looked like solid oil slicks—all dark gem colors, like sea-green, galaxy purple, royal blue. It was the kind of thing that someone like me—the old me, anyway—would never have been able to afford. It looked like one of those fancy designer items in glossy magazines. A tiny thrill went through me as I stroked the soft yarn. I’d never been all that materialistic, but… it was nice to have nice things. I was starting to feel a tiny bit like it was okay for me to have something just because it made me smile.
“I never wanted to hurt her,” Shawn said, pulling me away from my thoughts. I bit my lip. “I still consider her one of my closest, best friends, even though it ended the way it did. I was lying to her and to myself for a long time about how I felt. That wasn't her fault. If you want me to talk to her, I will. It's my responsibility to tell her what I'm going through and what I'm doing now. With you.” He looked so serious as he drove, his eyes steady on the road. I mulled over his words, and nodded slowly.
“I don't think it's just for you to tell her all that, I mean… I’m in this too.”
“So’s Buck,” Shawn joked, but his words sounded empty. “I mean, I’m not expecting him to talk to her…”
I let out a soft laugh.
“I get what you mean. Seriously, though, I do need to talk to her myself.” I didn't want anyone to think that I was letting Shawn do all the dirty work, or that I didn't care about Shiv’s feelings. Our friendship was so fragile, and we were just falling back in with each other. I didn't want to give her any reason to hate me. But I knew the longer that Shawn and I did this, it would just mean more people knew about us. Garrett had probably already guessed, given all of the things he said to me. Shawn wasn’t going to be able to keep things from his twin brother for long. “I think I’d rather talk to her soon, rather than waiting,” I said. “It’ll be worse if we put it off. It’s not fair to her, either.”
“Do you want to let me know when you’re ready to tell her? Maybe we could go talk to her together?” He let out a sigh.
“I know, this isn’t exactly the kind of conversation you were expecting from me on our first date,” I said, but I didn’t feel bad about it. This was important. Us having something real together? It depended on these kinds of honest conversations. Shawn laughed, a low huffing noise.
“You don't do anything the same way as anybody else, so… in a way I was already expecting something different? I have no idea. I'm just grateful to be able to spend time with you.” He shot me a little look, the smile spreading across his face.
His red hair was getting on the longer side, though still not nearly as long as Buck’s. It was tousled, sweeping low over his eyes. I itched to run my fingers through it, to push it off his brow. I wondered if he’d let me. Buck seemed to like a certain amount of physical affection, and enjoyed it when I touched him. Shawn was different, and I hadn’t figured him out yet. I couldn't take the same liberties with him that I was used to taking with Buck. On the inside, I was reveling in the whole new experience—everything about what we were doing was different.
“Do you mind? I just wanna…” he asked, reaching for my hand, pulling it into his lap to balance on his thigh, and just holding it there. My insides trembled, and I sat back in my seat, letting the feeling of him holding my hand wash over me.
Twelve
The line to get in the venue wrapped around the
block, but Shawn grabbed me by the wrist, a wild grin on his face.
“I said backstage passes, didn’t I?” he asked, and my heart skipped as he dragged me through the crowd. “Excuse me, veeps coming through,” he said, ducking around a guy smothering his girlfriend in a hot kiss. I stared for a moment, before he tugged me along.
“Shawn,” I laughed, “stop, stop, it’s too crowded.” I had to apologize to a girl as I stumbled over her foot. She flashed me an annoyed look, and Shawn pulled me into his side.
“Do I need to put you over my shoulder?” His words puffed into the shell of my ear, warming my skin. I shivered and shook my head. He pushed us through the crowd on the sidewalk, his arm curving around my shoulders protectively to keep me from falling over anyone, and anyone from stepping on me.
Finally, we got to the corner of the building where the people thinned out, and we were able to breathe without bumping into anyone.
“Down this way,” he said, kicking a can down a narrow space between the venue and the next building over. A door half-way along stuck out, propped open with a brick. Before we could even look inside, a burly man appeared. He topped Shawn by a foot, and both his size and his expression were intimidating..
“No access to the public. Sorry, kids,” he said, frowning. Shawn pulled out a pair of tickets from his pocket.
“We’ve got backstage passes,” Shawn said. “That okay?” The guard looked at them before giving us the nod.
“IDs,” he demanded. I fished out my state ID; Shawn handed over his license. “No drinking,” the guard said, a felt pen appearing in his hand. He marked a giant black X on the back of both of our hands. “Go inside, the tour manager’s in there. Shorter girl, long, wavy brown hair. Name’s Darcy. She’ll send you in the right direction.”
I squirmed internally. I’d never heard of the band, but then I kind of ignored most of what was on the hot Spotify playlists in favor of oldies radio.
“Thanks, man,” Shawn said, clapping me on the shoulder and steering me around the bulky guard and into the darkness of backstage. Immediately, a coolness fell over me, and a thick scent clung to the air, like the ghost of a thousand smoke machines. Long, felt-like black curtains hung everywhere in giant sheets, muffling the noise. I could still hear a ghost of the crowd in the theater, the buzzy chatter of over a thousand people talking. It was going to be a huge show, if the crowd outside still waiting to get in was anything to go by.
“You take me to the best places,” I breathed as we walked, picking our way carefully in the darkness. I couldn’t help but feel a nervous quiver of excitement deep inside. I was meeting a real live rock band. These kinds of things didn’t happen to people like me.
Shawn’s hand wrapped around mine and squeezed as we turned a corner around a long curtain. A young woman in her mid-ish twenties paced a large open area off to the left of the stage, pinching the bridge of her nose as she spoke on the phone.
“Okay, okay, that’s fine, we’ll deal. Just… tell them that the next fuck up with a merch delivery means we’re switching companies, and I don’t give a hot shit who their CEO is fucking at Sony, okay?” Her voice was husky and irritated, and I swear she was surrounded by a faint, holy glow of light. She hung up her call and turned, seeing us for the first time. I blinked away the fuzz in my eyes, the trick of the light fading in the darkness of backstage.
Shawn held up his tickets before she had a chance to say anything.
“Darcy?” he asked. “We’re the backstage pass people.”
Instantly, the frown that had been hovering at the corners of her mouth turned into a million-watt grin.
“Oh, awesome, you came at just the right time. I’m about to get swamped with merch bullshit. The guys are in the green room, wolfing down food.” Her smile twitched for a moment, and she gave a half-snort, like that was a joke. I glanced up at Shawn, and he shrugged. “Do you want to eat and meet the band? Like, instead of a meet and greet it’s a meet and eat?” She tilted her head to the side, her eyes falling to where Shawn’s fingers laced through mine, and her smile went sweet and wistful. “C’mon. They’re nice guys. They don’t bite fans.”
“I’ve never heard of the band,” I said, unhelpfully, and a bit stupidly, as we followed her away from the stage and down a corridor. Shawn groaned under his breath, and I gave him an abashed oops grin. He shook his head and let me lead.
“That’s fine, it’ll be good for their huge egos to be humbled,” Darcy tossed the words over her shoulder with another snort, pushing open a door labeled PHOENIXCRY. “Hey, assholes, get presentable, you’ve got guests.”
I followed her, holding my breath, my nerves fizzing quietly.
“Don’t get any ideas, you’ve got me and Buck already,” Shawn murmured softly as we stepped inside. His words startled a shocked laugh out of me. I was just starting to get comfortable with the idea of me and Shawn and Buck being a thing. Did he think I’d be looking for… more? That was a wild thought. One I pushed out of my mind.
Inside the room was a series of black leather couches. Along one wall was what looked like a full catering spread that had been attacked by wild animals.
Wild… very sexy, obviously rockstar animals. One of them, tall, blond with shoulders so broad his torso resembled a tortilla chip, was standing right next to the food, his plate piled high with ribs and potato salad.
“Sorry, god, we were eating,” the guy closest to us apologized, sitting on the arm of one of the couches. He got to his feet, dusting his hands off on his jeans. “I’m Ace,” he said with a broad smile.
“Mia,” I said quietly when Shawn poked me.
“Shawn,” he introduced himself. “Your guys’ music totally slaps.” The blond man by the table snorted and looked over at another guy… who looked identical. Twins. I nudged Shawn.
“Hey, look, they’re twins too,” I said.
“You’ve got a twin brother?” Ace asked before throwing a grin over his shoulder at the twin musicians. “See, nothing special about you guys.”
“There’s loads special about them. They’re especially stubborn. Especially selfish when it comes to eating all the damn food. Especially big stage hogs. I could go on,” a dark-haired man drawled. He sat in the corner, tuning a guitar. Darcy had wandered over to him, her hand resting lightly on his shoulder. The touch was… intimate. I flushed and looked away when she caught my eye. It was obvious they were together. Was that allowed? Was it okay to date a member of the band while working for them? She seemed kind of scary, in a good way. Like, I wanted to ask her a billion questions about what her life was like, but I also didn’t want to say anything at all, because I knew I’d come across as a complete idiot.
“Twins, always think they’re so goddamn special. I’m Cash,” another dark haired man, one of the taller ones out of the bunch, held out his hand. “You like our music, Mia? We should get you a t-shirt.”
“Oh, uh,” I paused and glanced at Shawn. He hid a smile.
“Not a fan, huh? That’s fine, our stuff’s shit. I’m Eli.” One of the twins, the one not piling his plate up with food, walked over, giving me an easy smile. I was more than a little intimidated. They were all gigantic and I felt very… very small.
“More like the shit,” Shawn said. “I brought her to see you tonight, because she needed to see you guys live. I have all your records, even that limited edition pressing you put out last year, the 8 inch in transparent red?” I stared up at Shawn, surprised. He’d never mentioned that he had and interest in music before, but he was saying all these things like he knew what he was talking about.
“What size do you wear?” Ace was right next to me, his earnest blue eyes looking down into mine.
“Um, medium or large, I guess. Large is more comfy.” I hugged an arm around my waist. I wasn’t crazy curvy or anything, but I’d been eating so much at my uncle’s place that I’d put on a few pounds.
“I’ll get you one,” he said softly. I smiled back at him.
“Thanks
, you really don’t have to-”
“Nah, we do. You’ve never heard our stuff before, so it’s the least we can do,” he said. “Hang on, I’ll be back in a minute.”
Shawn was still talking with Eli and Cash, discussing their gear choices on the tour, using words I didn’t understand at all.
“Shit,” Shawn said, glancing at me. “Mia, I’m sorry. I’m being rude.”
“No, no, it’s okay, this is your thing,” I said. Honestly, it was nice to just see him light up. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the band guys exchanging discreet smiles, and I wondered what was so funny to them.
“Here,” Ace said, coming back with couple rolled up pieces of fabric in his hand. “T-shirts, for both of you.”
Shawn looked like he was going to pass out, so I grabbed his hand in mine, squeezing it.
“Thank you so much,” I said, and he echoed me a second later.
“Are you guys hungry?” The dark-haired guitarist in the corner called to us, looking up at Darcy. “Let’s get them some food, yeah, sweetheart?” So, she was totally with him. That cemented it.
“That’d be great,” I said, knowing that Shawn was about to run out of oxygen to speak.
“Epic,” Shawn breathed, almost wheezing. Cash laughed, turning to Eli.
“Good thing you ate earlier, cause it looks like we’ve got two more for dinner.”
Shawn couldn’t shut up about how amazing the guys in Phoenixcry were, and yeah, they were cool and all. But it was Darcy who I’d spent most of the meal with, trying not to ask her a bunch of questions about her life and failing miserably. As we’d said our goodbyes, Darcy gave me a tight hug at the exit.
“That fun for you?” I asked Shawn as we filtered into the audience. Our backstage passes gave us front stage access. There was a mosh-pit behind us, but there was a barrier between the people crushed in there and us. I wasn’t sure I could have handled the press of people, and was super grateful that Shawn had managed to get us tickets that meant we wouldn’t be crammed in with hundreds of other people.