by Shawn Bailey
Tory sat down on the front row between Tommy and their manager Harley. Adam sat down next to him, followed by Jonas and Luke.
“Vizio, you’re up,” Tory said. “Impress me.”
Brenton and the others rose and walked up the stairs and got in place on stage to perform their new songs. Tory and the others took notes while Vizio performed the ones Tommy had written for them.
Jonas joined them on stage for the ballad he’d helped Brenton with. He sat down at the piano next to him, and the next thing he knew, he and Jonas were singing to each other. Their voices blended beautifully together. Adam and Luke clapped and whistled when the song ended.
“Very nice, gentlemen,” Tory said. “Is there more?”
Jonas returned to his chair and Vizio continued with the songs that they had written, their crossover songs. The last one was the one Jonas wrote for them, titled “Remember Me When,” a heavy rock ballad. He and Carson sang lead vocals, and Brenton hadn’t heard his old friend sing so beautifully in years.
A terrible silence fell over the room when they finished.
Tory rose after several seconds and gave them a standing ovation. The rest of the guys in the room did the same thing.
“Congratulations, gentlemen. That last song was the bomb. I love the new sound and can’t wait to hear them after you record the CD.”
Carson and Randall hugged each other, and Brenton and Preston slapped hands.
“We’d like to think Tommy and Jonas for writing such kick-ass lyrics,” Preston said.
“Did Jonas write another song besides the one he helped Brenton with?” Tory asked.
Brenton nodded. “The last one we sang.”
“Ah!” Tory said loudly. “What am I going to do with that kid? Jonas, sweetie, that song rocked. If you don’t watch it, you and Tommy are going to go down in music history as two of the best songwriters in the world.”
“Congratulations, Jonas,” Tommy said. “I look forward to working with you in the future.”
“Be serious, guys. Jonas is a singer,” Adam said. “He’ll be too busy on the road to write songs.”
“He can do both, Adam,” Tory said. “He is nominated for a Grammy already for his songwriting. Stop being so selfish and hogging Jonas all for yourself. I will still pay you handsomely for your managing skills.”
Brenton smirked. This was the first time he’d ever seen Tory’s golden-boy manager squirm.
Adam turned to Jonas. “Do you think you can write more Grammy-winning songs?”
“I don’t know, but I’ll try,” Jonas said. “What are you going to promise me?”
“Smart-aleck,” Adam said. “Frankie hasn’t won that Grammy yet.”
Brenton had no clue what the two of them were talking about.
The door opened, and Gerard and Frankie entered. Brenton had nearly forgotten that The Kerrys were auditioning their new songs for Tory, too.
“Okay, Vizio, it’s time for you guys to give up the studio for the kiddies,” Tory said. “But don’t go anywhere. I want you to listen to their new sound and tell me what you think.”
Like clockwork, the roadies appeared to remove Vizio’s instruments and replace them with the ones belonging to The Kerrys. The piano remained. The Kerrys walked up one side of the stage, and the members of Vizio went down the other and sat. Frankie sat at the piano, and Jonas went to the other side of the stage by his guitar.
“You may begin,” Tory said to them.
For the next thirty minutes, The Kerrys performed their crossover songs. Most of them were lively and cute, and they took turns singing. Then Frankie sang solo on a ballad, with Jonas and Gerard singing backup. Gerard got his turn at the mic, surprising everyone with his smooth tenor voice and proving that he wasn’t just a drummer. Frankie sang the next song. The kid had a great set of lungs and range. So far, Brenton liked all the songs that they performed.
Jonas moved to the piano and Frankie went to the other side of the stage and picked up his violin.
This must be a solo for Jonas. Brenton sat up straight and put his eyes on the pianist. He and Frankie played the intro, a classical piece, and then Frankie put his violin aside while Jonas continued to play. Frankie sidled over to the keyboard, and the song changed to a more soulful sound. Jonas adjusted the mic and began to sing. His new voice was smoother, silkier, and, at the moment, making him the proudest man in the room. It was a song about losing a lover and trying to go on with life.
Brenton had been waiting for the longest for the ball to drop on Jonas’s relationship with the guy named Sean. Though Jonas never mentioned the other man’s name in conversation, Brenton wasn’t a fool and knew he was still reeling from the repercussion of being the one left behind. Brenton had expected hysterics, but it never came. Maybe this song was Jonas’s way of dealing with the pain. By the time it ended, he had grown men wiping tears from their eyes, even Tory.
The talented trio went straight into another song—a happier one. Jonas, Frankie, and Gerard got down with a little pop rock, and Brenton finally got a chance to see Jonas wail on his guitar. Gerard was manning the keyboard and Frankie was center stage, giving the heavy-metal rockers a run for their money with his sexy voice and dance moves.
“You guys are just too much,” Tory said at the end of their audition. “Adam, remind me to hire more guards for the stage, because if Frankie is going to dance like that, he’s going to cause a riot.” Everyone laughed at his joke. Tory stood up. “I want both groups in the recording studios tomorrow.” He left the room.
“I guess this means the auditions are over,” Adam said.
The roadies returned to remove the instruments as The Kerrys left the stage.
“That song was beautiful,” Brenton said to Jonas.
“Thanks,” Jonas said.
“What’s it called?”
“‘No Tears, No Regrets,’” Jonas answered.
“I like it,” Brenton said.
Jonas winked at him and left the auditorium with his bandmates.
* * * *
“What do you know about designing costumes for rockers?” Randall asked Gerard as he stood over him in the room where Harley had deserted them in to go have lunch with Tory.
“You guys are no different from anyone else, except you’re taller and have more muscle,” Gerard said. Of course, he was being very brave while standing on a step stool so he could measure Randall’s neck, shoulders, and arms.
“You smell good,” Randall said.
“Thanks,” Gerard said. “Can you turn around? I need to measure you from shoulder to shoulder.”
Carson was stalking Frankie on the other side of the room, and Jonas was having the time of his life watching both Frankie and Gerard squirm from the overzealous attention.
Randall turned. The guy had a great butt, but not better than Brenton’s.
“Put him in a tuxedo,” Brenton teased from the seat next to Jonas.
“Do you want him to kill me?” Gerard asked. “Stop backseat designing. I know what I’m doing.”
“He’s cute,” Brenton whispered to Jonas. “Randall is totally checking him out.”
“Does he like guys?” Jonas whispered back.
Brenton shrugged. “I didn’t think so, but lately, I’m not so sure.”
Jonas tried to stifle a laughed. “Giovanni would just die.”
“Speaking of which,” Brenton pulled out his wallet, selected a card, and handed it to him. Jonas looked down at it. It was Brenton’s VIP pass to the exclusive gay nightclub in the French Quarter. Jonas handed it back.
“You and me, Saturday.”
“You’re on,” Jonas said happily.
“Carson, you’re up next,” Gerard said.
He climbed down off the step stool, and Randall tried to steal a kiss. Gerard ducked just in time.
“I have my eye on you, ducky,” Randall said as he changed places with Carson.
Frankie hurried out of the room.
“Where’s he going?” Br
enton asked.
“Probably to find Adam or to hide,” Jonas answered.
“I want something that is going to make me stand out in a crowd,” Carson said to Gerard.
“You’re six feet tall, rocking some serious, long, brown hair, and you can make a guitar sing. You’re going to stand out if I put you in a sack,” Gerard said.
Carson laughed. “You I like. Do you think you can squeeze me in to see Giovanni? I need a new suit.”
“Maybe,” Gerard said. “If you guys volunteer to work his upcoming fashion show as guest models.”
“What?” Preston asked.
“You heard me. I’ve been given the audacious task of trying to convince you guys to do it. He’s agreed to make each of you the suit of your dreams if you agree.”
“Count me in,” Preston said from his seat on the other side of the room.
“Me, too,” Randall said.
“Is Frankie in the fashion show?” Carson asked.
“No, but he’s going to be there,” Gerard said. “He promised to perform a song.”
“Count me in,” Carson said.
Brenton chuckled. “Count me in, too. When’s the show?”
“The week before we leave for Vegas,” Gerard said. “After that, we’ll be busy preparing for the rest of the tour.”
Preston got fitted next. He too looked at Gerard like a steak dinner. “You’re pretty enough to be a girl.”
“Rude much?” Gerard said. “I have the same equipment you have, just in a smaller size.”
Jonas looked at Brenton for Preston’s sexual preference. Once again, Brenton shrugged. “Maybe there’s something in the air.”
“Oh, lord, let’s hope not,” Brenton said.
“You’re up next, B-Dog,” Gerard said.
Brenton left him, and Carson scooted over to the seat next to Jonas.
“Hey, pretty kitty. Loved the song. Were you singing from experience?”
“Yeah, I’ve had my heart broken a time or two.”
“Mine is being stepped on right now,” Carson said. “You do know that Brenton and I were…”
Jonas stopped him before he continued. “Yeah, I know. I have been informed.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t plan to give him up without a fight.”
Jonas chuckled. “Is that a threat?”
Carson nodded.
“I don’t take threats well, Carson. Makes me want to ruin a career or two.”
“Ooh, kitty has claws. You’re the soup of the day at the moment, but Brenton likes his guys rough and tough, not angelic.” He got up and walked away.
Jonas sighed. If he had a nickel for every ex-boyfriend that had said that to him, he’d be rich. He chuckled and put Carson out of his mind.
Gerard finally finished with measuring the guys and dismissed them. Jonas went over to chat with him. In the process, he eavesdropped on Vizio’s conversation, since all four of them were standing nearby, instead of listening to Gerard complain about Randall’s and Preston’s perusal of his person.
“What’s next on the agenda?” Randall asked Brenton.
“Lunch, and then another meeting with Tory.”
“What about?” Preston asked.
“Who knows,” Brenton said.
“Ignore it,” Jonas finally whispered to Gerard. “Giovanni is way sexier.”
Gerard chuckled and started out of the room. Jonas followed him.
Brenton grabbed him by the hand. “What are you doing for lunch?”
“Nothing, why?”
“How about having lunch with us? We’re just going downstairs to the cafeteria.”
Carson glared at Jonas.
Jonas chose to ignore him. “Sure. I have a break before meeting with Adam and Luke.” If it was a fight Carson wanted, then he better bring it.
* * * *
“You want us to do what?” Brenton asked Tory as he and the others sat in one of Tory’s smaller conference rooms.
“Join our other newer groups on their Asian tours.”
“But we just got back from a two-year tour,” Carson whined. “And we just agreed to go to Europe with them.”
“So?” Tory said. “You wanted a career in music, and I’m trying to give you what you asked for. Plus, you won’t be in Europe that long this time.”
“How many months total?” Preston asked.
“Two,” Tory answered. “I promise to have all of you guys home before the holiday season begins.”
“Which holiday season?” Brenton asked. He knew Tory very well, and the man had great manipulation skills.
“Halloween to New Year’s,” Tory answered.
Besides Tory, joining them were Adam Montgomery; Cinnamon’s manager, Ursula Smithfield; the hip-hop group Victory’s manager, Joseph Manning; and Noel Charles’s manager, Edward Green. Brenton looked at his bandmates. He wasn’t really ready for another tour, but he didn’t want to be separated from Jonas either. Their relationship was just beginning, and he didn’t want to give Jonas a chance to meet someone else and forget him. Call him selfish, but his cock and his heart were more important than his aching back and knees.
“I’m game.”
“What?” Carson asked. “Just a couple of months ago you were hellfire bent on retiring from the stage and raising azaleas or something in your garden.”
“Retire?” Adam asked. Man, you guys are still too young to retire, and you haven’t reached your musical prime. These tours are going to be fun. Think of all the new fans you’re going to get.”
“I’m in,” Preston said. “I love fans.”
Randall raised his hand. “I’m in, too.”
Carson still held out.
“Frankie’s going,” Brenton said.
Adam sat up straight in his chair, looked at him, and then stared at Carson.
“I’m in then,” Carson said.
Both Tory and Adam stared at Carson this time.
“Why the sudden change?” Adam asked Carson.
“Are you kidding me, mate? I can’t let my friends down. Plus, maybe I’ll get a chance to sing a duo with Frankie.”
Adam didn’t comment, but his emotions showed on his face. A little vein throbbed right between his eyes, and the frown was a dead giveaway to how much he didn’t like that idea.
“Good. I’m glad you’re all aboard on this,” Tory said. “He pulled out his cell phone and dialed a number. “Ruby, bring in the contracts for Vizio and their manager.” He disconnected the call and put his phone away.
Minutes later, his secretary appeared with a stack of folders. “Pardon the interruption,” Ruby said. She handed Tory the folders and pens, then left the room again.
Tory got up and passed out the contracts and then sat down again.
“How did you know we would agree?” Randall asked Tory as he thumbed through his.
“Because I know you guys. You love to perform in front of the audience. I know that you’re tired, but these next few tours will make you a lot of money. You’ll get to see Europe and Asia through the eyes of the newlings, do a bit of sightseeing, and stay in luxurious hotels.”
That would be a change. Some of the places they had to stay in the last two years weren’t fit for men, or beasts.
“Sounds like heaven,” Brenton said.
“I can go for that,” Randall said.
“Me, too,” Harley agreed.
“I thought you wanted to stay home and be with your family for a while,” Brenton said to their manager.
“That was before I saw the honey-do list my wife had waiting for me,” Harley said. “Plus, she’s dying to go to Europe and Asia.”
When Harley’s wife, Jean, wasn’t busy being Mrs. Harley Norwich, she worked as a makeup artist and a hair stylist.
“She’s coming with us?” Brenton asked.
“Hell yes,” Harley answered. “I get tired of sleeping alone. Plus, Tory’s hired her to help out with the young ladies.”
“Thanks, Tory,” Ursula said. “My girls are
going to love having their own personal stylist at their beck and call.”
“That means you can’t hang out with us at the clubs,” Preston said.
“What’s going to stop me?” Harley asked. “All that means is that I can take my pretty wife to the club with me.”
“Please try to stay out of trouble, you guys,” Tory said. “Some of the young people you’re accompanying aren’t old enough to drink in America, so I’m counting on you guys to set a good example while out of the country.”
“What kind of activities do you have lined up for us?” Carson asked.
“Fan meetings, television, and radio appearances, you know, the usual stuff,” Tory said.
“You’ll start off with Vegas,” Harley said.
Brenton continued reading his contract while the others talked. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Tory, but he didn’t want to find himself obligated to do something he couldn’t do. It did mention a concert in Lyon, France; a concert in Paris; a festival in Brighton, in the UK; and a festival in London. The Asian tour was just as impressive.
“Everything looks good,” Brenton said.
They did stand to make a lot of money. Plus, he wanted to take Jonas to see some sights. He signed his contract and passed it to Harley. The others followed suit.
“As a reminder, all dating rules apply,” Tory said.
“What dating rules?” Ursula asked.
“He just means we have to make sure our singers keep their pure images,” Adam said.
Yeah right. Tory meant no kissing, hand holding, or showing any kind of affection in public with their sweeties, and the rules only applied to some of them. Brenton frowned. He didn’t like it, but he would abide by them.
“Now on to other things,” Tory said. “You guys are scheduled to be on the morning news on Monday to help promote the concert in Vegas. You’ll get to perform two songs, preferably ones that are PG rated.” He paused. “And my notes say that you are going to be participating in Giovanni Bassett’s fashion show shortly before the concert. How did you losers manage that?”
“Gerard tricked us,” Preston said.
“What?” Tory asked. “Did he bully you guys?”