With the Band

by Natasha Preston

  I ache in every bone, every joint, and every muscle. My thighs feel like they're bleeding from the inside. Not going to lie, I fucking love it, but it's taking a toll. Thankfully, after the next two shows, we'll have a day off.

  That day will be dedicated to Texas.

  It's been much harder than I thought. I used to think people were lying when they said they didn't have time to send a text. I thought it was an excuse because they'd had enough. But it's not an excuse. I miss her so much that I'm constantly looking for her. She should be here. I shouldn't have to get in this bed alone.

  Chucking back the covers, I strip and get straight in. It's four a.m., so it's eleven a.m. for Texas. I lie down, and immediately, I'm being pulled under. My body sinks into the mattress, and my eyes feel like they're being weighted.

  Groaning, I lazily tap the screen, missing her name a few times, and call her.

  Come on, pick up.

  I jab my free hand into one eye and then the next.

  Stay the fuck awake.

  Fucking hell, I miss her calls because I'm sleeping. It's almost midday over there.

  What's keeping her?

  The phone rings again, mocking me. I click it off and growl. This sucks beyond measure. I feel her absence every second. She might as well be living on another planet. I can't even get to her in less than ten hours, if I needed to.

  Why would you need to, dick?

  Tex isn't the most independent. She's on her own. Jennifer has never been much of a mum. The thought of Tex feeling lonely without anyone to talk to tears me to shreds. Everyone Texas holds dear and can confide in is in America.

  Tomorrow, I'll get a snotty text about how I haven't bothered. But she won't directly say it. Oh no, that would be far too easy.

  She'll ask what I was up to. What've you been up to then? She's not asking what I've been up to, not really. It's a woman's way of saying, You're in the shit, you prick.

  With a deep sigh I feel right down to my feet, I close my eyes. I can't call again. I don't have the energy to force my eyelids open.

  Hard work, I signed up for. I'm not afraid of it, and I never have been, but Tex is hard work on crack.

  SUNDAY, JULY 19

  PHOENIX, ARIZONA

  "So, Kitt, can we talk about Texas?" Vanessa, the host, asks.

  Even the sound of her name has my heart thumping.

  We're on a talk show before heading to the arena here in Phoenix.

  So far, Vanessa has covered pretty safe topics, such as the British accent, our favourite song to work on, and who gets the loudest screams--me. She knows not to broach the pregnant-whore situation. Lindsay and Jodie have taken care of that.

  My statement is out there, and that's all the time I'm giving it until I'm required to do something else.

  I sit forward, resting my arms on my legs. "Please do."

  "She's back in England now? Do you miss her?"

  "Yeah, she had a few things to do back home, but I'm hoping she'll be able to join me in Australia."

  "What was it like to tell Mark Knight that you were dating his daughter?"

  I laugh and sit back. "Terrifying, but it went a lot better than I'd thought. I still have all my body parts."

  Cooper snorts. "Debatable."

  I shove his arm.

  Vanessa adds, "So, he was fine about it?"

  "I mean, he didn't do cartwheels around the bus, but he can see how much I love her."

  "Aw," Vanessa coos. "She's a lucky girl. And you're a lucky guy!"

  Milo laughs. "He hit the jackpot, and he'll spend every day hoping she doesn't realise what she's done."

  I roll my eyes. Don't mention Lexi. It will make you the world's biggest tosser.

  "Cooper, what's the best part of being a rock star?" Vanessa asks, giving him a flirty smile.

  I tense and feel Milo's body stiffen beside me.

  Fuck. He wouldn't.

  His eyes darken. "It's before the watershed, so I'll say the music, Vanessa."

  Wow. His filter is on.

  But I suppose, after saying fuck not once but four times on live radio, he's learned his lesson. Or he just doesn't want another punch in the gut for being a dick.

  She throws her head back and laughs. "Thank you for censoring there, Cooper."

  Oh God, he's going to shag her.

  Milo chuckles, thinking the same thing.

  Vanessa is in her late forties, but you wouldn't be able to tell. She must have a very good plastic surgeon who's stopped her aging at thirty.

  Coop won't care that she's more than double his age and could've given birth to him.

  If you're honest, you'll admit the pre-Texas you would've had a second look.

  "How is touring together? Didn't you do most of Europe in a bus?"

  "We did," I say. "It was incredible, but I have no desire to be stuck in close quarters with these idiots for a month again."

  Milo scoffs, "He loved it."

  "How are you enjoying the States?"

  Coop grins and pats his stomach. "The food is amazing."

  Vanessa laughs, keeping her eyes on him for a fraction longer than she does with me and Milo. He had better be discreet about this.

  What am I saying? He's going to shout it from the rooftops.

  "Well, thank you, boys." She turns to the camera and holds up our album cover. "Filthy Sound is at the Gila River Arena tonight at seven thirty p.m., and the album is out now."

  We wait until we're told to move.

  When they cut to a break, Jodie wanders over. "Thank you, Vanessa."

  "You're welcome. It was a pleasure having them on the show."

  Cooper's gaze locks on Vanessa, eye-fucking her in front of a roomful of people.

  I clear my throat. "Yeah, thanks. We should be going though, right?"

  We need to get Cooper out of here before he takes her on the fucking sofa.

  Jodie's hand snatches Coop's upper arm. "Absolutely. We can't be late!"

  Scowling, Coop lets Jodie pull him off the set.

  "Honestly, Jack, I don't know where your head is sometimes. If you must, call her after you've given the performance of a lifetime."

  She lets go, and he throws his arm over her shoulder.

  "I plan to, Jodie! She's even hotter in the flesh. And I want to see her flesh. And call me Cooper!"

  "I bet you're glad you took on a band, right?" Milo says to Jodie.

  "Best thing I've ever done," she mutters sarcastically.

  Four hours later, Enigma is performing their encore. I watch Mark in awe, still envious of the way he owns the arena and every person in it. Watching him is a privilege. I try to memorise how he does it, but it's not something that can be replicated. It's pure talent that bleeds on the stage every time he stands upon it. We all have our own way of doing things, and I'd never want to be a carbon copy of him, not really. But I can't help wish that I'd gotten there first.

  I take my phone out of my pocket and send a message to my girl. She didn't text or try to call me back after my failed attempt last night, and I'm trying not to analyse why.

  She's starting to get bored of your lifestyle. It was different when it was her dad. Everything about this is different for her.

  Holding my phone in a death grip, I type. My heart is burning with the need to say what I want, but I hold back. Creating an argument isn't going to help us.

  Going on soon. I miss you.

  While I wait for a reply that might or might not come, I text my nan, too.

  About to rock the fuck out of Arizona. Hope you and G are okay.

  Milo slaps me on the back. "A watched phone never beeps."

  "She's ignoring me."

  "She's probably busy. Do you think all Tex is doing is sitting down, waiting for contact? She'll be off with Jennifer, partying, and sleeping with--"

  Fucker. I plant my fist in his arm. "You're a dick."

  He laughs and rubs the spot where I hit. "Come on, mate, get your head together. We need you focused out
there."

  My phone buzzes in my hand. "I'm all here, Milo."

  I look down and sigh. It's from my nan. She can manage to reply early in the morning over there, but Tex can't.

  Watch your language. I can still put you over my knee. We're fine. We love you, and we're so proud. Grandad says rock on or rock hard or something to that effect. Stay safe.

  They will always be there. No matter what happens, what I do, how often I manage to get in touch, they will always be at home, and I will always be welcome.

  I love you guys.

  After I reply, I hand my phone to Jodie.

  Blowing out a breath, I close my eyes to regroup. When the band started getting recognised, I made a promise to myself and the band. We will never let the fans down. As heavily twisted up I am over Texas and our dwindling relationship, I have to do this.

  No one will ever leave saying our performance was shit. No one will ever want their money back.

  I rock back and forth on my feet as the crowd counts down from ten. Adrenaline pumps through my body, replacing blood, thought, and breath. I survive on the buzz, the performance, and the crowd alone.

  Nodding as I'm handed my mic, I walk ahead of Milo and Cooper and raise my hand in the air. The first wave of screams shakes the arena as we make our appearance.

  "Are you fucking ready, Arizona?" I shout.

  The second wave is louder, always louder. I laugh and face the crowd. It's packed to the rafters, every seat is taken, and every inch of space is inhabited. Flashes from cameras and stripes of colour from glow sticks attack my eyes.

  "You can do better than that!" Cooper shouts. "Ladies, shirts up. Gentlemen...what the hell? Go for it!"

  He lifts his shirt, too, and at least three women in the front row faint.

  He's such an exhibitionist.

  "Milo," I say, "'Quick'!"

  It's the title of one of our most popular songs, and the crowd goes fucking wild.

  This is my first love. Always will be.

  TEXAS

  MONDAY, JULY 20

  NOTTING HILL, ENGLAND

  It's been eight days since I've spoken to Kitt. I know what life is like on the road, so I know he's flat-out busy, but I'm still pissed off. Our talk-until-we-fall-asleep pact has been forgotten. Logically, I know better, but I feel like I've been forgotten.

  We keep missing each other, and it's not getting any easier.

  I press Cancel after another failed call and grit my teeth.

  You're the one who left him and told him to live it up. You can't be surprised that he is.

  Kitt means the world to me, and I want this experience to be epic for him, but I don't know how to keep our relationship solid when we never talk.

  It's terrifying.

  I understand I've been foolish and centred so much around him, but I can't change that. For the longest time, Kitt has been the grand ultimate prize, and he's not something I want to lose.

  But how would we cope if things fell apart like this every time he was away?

  I can give him space to do his thing, but I can't have radio silence, like we don't exist. There is no time off our relationship. No matter how much I love him, we're full-time or nothing at all. He has to make the effort to call at least every two days.

  "Texas, darling," Mother drawls, "are you ready?"

  I sigh and rub my forehead.

  I actually enjoyed watching her last shoot; it was enlightening. There's much more to it than sitting still and looking pretty. So, I agreed to go again today, but after my failed attempt to get ahold of Kitt, I'm not feeling all that up to leaving the house. Human contact will not be good for me today.

  "Sure," I reply, rolling over just as she comes into my room.

  "Oh, Texas," she says, staring at me like I'm a hobo.

  "What? Do I look that bad?" I look in the mirror. Yes, I do look that bad.

  "We have to leave in ten minutes," Jennifer says. "Sit down. I'll do your hair and makeup."

  She's going to make you into a mini her.

  At least she knows what she wants and goes after it. I can't even get my fucking boyfriend to have a conversation with me. Perhaps a mini Jennifer is exactly what I need to be for a while.

  I get up, pad over the thick pile carpet to my vanity table, and sit down on the romantic, chic stool. Not only do I not look good, I also don't look like me. Gone is the colour in my cheeks and the light from my eyes. I look lost and kind of like a scared child.

  You weren't brought up to pin everything on a man!

  Enough. Enough now.

  Swallowing shame and uncertainty, I straighten my back. "What are you going to do with my hair then, Mum?"

  "A few more curls. Your hair is naturally very beautiful, as is your face. We're just going to hide those sad eyes."

  I tear my eyes away from her reflection. Shit, it's obvious?

  "Don't be embarrassed, Texas. You love him, and you're allowed to be upset if things aren't happening the way you hoped."

  "I just wish he'd call." I need to hear his voice. "But if you see me wallowing again, please slap me across the head. Get me looking human, and let's do this shoot."

  She smiles and captures my long hair in her hands. "You want to try?"

  I shrug. "Think I'll be allowed?"

  "Do I think the photographer will want a mother-daughter shoot with Jennifer Star and Texas Knight?"

  Laughing, I pick up a hairbrush and hand it to her over my shoulder.

  She takes it and slowly drags it through my hair. "I've missed this over the years, haven't I?"

  It would've been nice. Dad picked up the slack on that one, too. It's probably why I don't bother much with it. He's a brush-it-or-tie-it-up kind of man. There is no in between, no fancy updos.

  She effortlessly curls my hair so fast that her arms look like she's doing the Macarena. It's stylishly messy and looks so good that I can't believe it's my hair. Some of it is up, and a few strands hang down, making it look like it's just been thrown together. It's the hair I hate on when I see it in a magazine because I could never get it to look right.

  "Turn around, please," she says. She kneels in front of me. Twisting the mascara brush, she gently slicks some on my lashes. "Just a little lipstick, and you'll be done. I envy your looks, Texas. You always look so flawless."

  I choke on the irony. "You've been voted Sexiest Woman of the Year twice, and you envy me for looking like I never try?" Is she for real?

  Jennifer never has a hair out of place. Everything about her is symmetrical and painfully perfect.

  "My looks take work, Texas. You're ready."

  She stands up and smiles. I dip my head. We've turned into mother and daughter.

  How the hell did that happen? The normalcy of it almost makes me feel uncomfortable.

  "Yep, let's go."

  My phone buzzes in my pocket.

  "I'll get my shoes on. You deal with that," she says, nodding to my phone.

  Heading to Vegas. Wish you were here.

  Short and sweet. In the beginning, I'd get essays from him and reply with a full-length book. Now, we boil everything down to the least amount of characters we can get away with as we update each other on our single lives.

  Heading to Jennifer's shoot. Hopefully speak later.

  Tears spark behind my eyes. I don't remember the last time we said, I love you.

  "Texas, we need to leave, darling!" Jennifer shouts from downstairs.

  Wiping my cheeks with the back of my hand, I'm grateful that Jennifer didn't try to put foundation on my face and that she used waterproof mascara.

  The driver takes us into Chelsea where Jennifer's shoot is. Houses around here are disgustingly expensive for the amount of space you get, but it's one of the places to be.

  Ted is invading my personal space as we walk into the studio. "This will be interesting," he mutters.

  "You'll love it, Teddy."

  He gives me a look. "Just behave yourself today. I'm tired, so don't give me a
lot to do."

  "Oh, yeah? Good night, was it?"

  "You're not cute. Go watch the modelling thing. I'll be here if you need me." He stops at the door and leans against the wall.

  This really isn't his thing at all.

  "Texas, this is Derek Woods," Jennifer says.

  I know Derek. He's worked with Dad and Enigma a couple of times. He's one of the most sought after photographers in the UK, so of course, Jennifer's shoot is with him.

  "Texas, last time I saw you was...oh, a good five years ago. You're beautiful, darling," he says. He air-kisses both cheeks.

  I awkwardly make a kissing sound and smile. "Yeah, it was a while."

  Okay, I can't do small talk.

  "So, Jen-Jen, can we have you sitting front-to-back on the chair over there? Clara will come and get your top once it's off."

  "This is a topless shoot?" I ask, my eyes widening in pure horror. Why would she bring me to this one?

  In the corner, Ted chuckles.

  "Nothing will be on show," Jennifer says, putting her hand on my arm in comfort. "All that will be visible is my back."

  I laugh nervously. "Okay."

  Derek's work is always very tasteful and classy, so I hope this will be no different. I'm not a prude, but I don't really want to see my mother's assets. I didn't even see them when I was an infant.

  Jennifer changes into the leather trousers she was given and keeps her top on until she's over at the chair. There is no hesitation. She tugs her top off and hands it to Clara. Hair and makeup people descend upon her, so she sits perfectly still and closes her eyes. She's a natural.

  No one is eyeing her up. They're all here for a job, and she's treated with the utmost respect. I stand behind the camera with Derek as he doles out instructions to Jen-Jen. Her eyes are alight when she's in front of the camera and not just because of the crazy amount of molten-hot lights beaming in her face.

  Maybe I genuinely do want to try it.

  "Beautiful!" Derek compliments. "You're perfect, darling. Head a little to the left. That's it! Hold it there."

  Jennifer's neck is craned around for her to look back at the camera. If it's uncomfortable, she's not showing it.

  "Okay, take five. Can someone bring me the Armani? Jen-Jen, you will love this dress. I'll need you over by the fireplace."

  The set is reworked, so the lighting is perfect, and everything is in place for round two.

  My feet start to ache.

  "Great! We're done," he says after no less than seven bloody thousand clicks of his camera.