Behind the Lens (Boys of Fallout Book 2)

by Cassandra Giovanni

  I swallow hard as I think about Toby. He rubs me far worse than Kie does. He’s the typical metal guy; drugs, sex and rock and roll all mixed into an arrogant package of obscenities and tattoos. All that wouldn’t be unusual, or wrong, except Toby doesn’t have a passion for music. He has a passion for the lifestyle, but all the parts I hate. I’m going to need coffee, or really strong tea to get through this day. I look out the window as we pass by my favorite coffee place and groan, slumping down as my head goes into my hand.

  “We can stop somewhere if you want,” James says, nudging me.

  “Really?” I ask, glancing over at him.

  He looks up from the letter he’s writing to a fan and nods. “I’ll go ask if Joe can stop at the next one he sees. I could use some real coffee, too.”

  “A latte isn’t real coffee,” Brad says, looking at James and me through his bangs.

  “I’m pretty sure whatever you made this morning wasn’t either,” Aiden replies from the bench seat across the way where he’s playing on a tablet.

  “Whatever,” Brad says, and James squeezes his shoulder as he walks passed.

  When James comes back, he’s smiling, and I feel the bus slowing down. I glance out the window and sigh.

  “Thank you so much,” I say as I stand, going to grab my wallet.

  “Nope,” James says when he sees me pulling a ten out. “Remember, food is on me.”

  “Seriously, you don’t have to do that.”

  James waves me off. “Where did Brent go to? He likes lattes, too.”

  “That’s cause you’re all pussies,” Kie replies as he jumps out of his bunk.

  James blinks at him. “A frappe isn’t any better.”

  Kie purses his lips, shrugging as he heads to the door.

  “Not like there are too many places for him to go,” I say, heading towards the lounge. “I’ll go get him. Meet you inside.”

  When I open the door, Brent is sleeping on the couch with his mouth hanging open. I put my hand over my mouth to stifle the laugh, but it still wakes him. His eyelids flutter open, and he shoots up as I come into his line of sight. He wipes his mouth quickly, rubbing his hands through his hair.

  “How are you that light of a sleeper?” I ask, cocking my head at him.

  He yawns, shaking his head. “That’s why I’m asleep back here. Slept like crap last night…much like you.”

  “Which is exactly why we’re stopping for lattes or whatever fabulous caffeine filled concoction is available,” I reply, wiggling my eyebrows.

  “Sick,” Brent says, standing and stretching. He and all of the guys have changed out of their pajamas and Brent is now wearing black skinny jeans and a black v-neck, which teases the eye by just showing a portion of the words sketched across his chest. “Usually the guys just let me sleep and don’t bother to wake me up…well, sometimes James does.”

  “Huh?” I ask, catching myself staring.

  Get a hold of yourself!

  “Let’s go get something so we can both wake up,” Brent says, his eyes shifting to over my shoulder.

  “Yeah,” I reply as I nod a little too hard.

  ~~~

  The coffee saves me from falling asleep, but it doesn’t keep me from the task of going to see each of the bands before the signings. Granted, I can just introduce myself there, but the fans will have most of their attention, and a signing isn’t the most professional choice to meet them. I heave a sigh as I drop my spent latte in the trash and head towards the door.

  “Where are you going?” Brent asks, and I smile over my shoulder at him.

  “I do have to pay attention to the other bands on tour with you guys,” I reply before pushing the door open and almost running head on into James, who has a camera pointed at his face.

  The press.

  Brent rams into me as I stop, stunned as the camera turns to me.

  “Hey, Nat–Brent–we were just about to give them a tour of the bus!” James says, smiling at me and then the camera.

  I wave at it. “The tour photographer.”

  “And behind her is Brent, our other front man,” Jame says, his tone light and friendly.

  I glance over at Brent as he scratches the back of his neck. I have a feeling he’s supposed to be helping James but doesn’t want to.

  Brent smiles at the camera. “Hi, there! I was just helping Nat. She’s going to meet up with the other bands on the tour. See ya!”

  James is facing us, and his eyes widened. Instead of changing his mind, Brent pats him on the shoulder.

  “Yeah, I–we should get going,” I say as the camera turns to me.

  We rush away, and I glance over at Brent. “I better not get the brunt for whatever stunt you just pulled.”

  He shrugs. “It wasn’t a stunt–I’m just not as good at being a front man as James is.”

  I press my tongue against the top of my mouth as I blink at him, but he keeps his eyes ahead.

  “So who are you going to meet first?” he asks.

  “Fade Burn,” I reply, shaking my head at his changing of the subject. I try to fight the tingling in my arms at the idea of not having to meet the other bands alone. It’s the most nerve-racking part of the job. I don’t always get along with my clients, but I definitely need to act like I do. I know having Brent there will make it easier. “I’m pretty stoked to get to meet them, though.”

  “They’re from Boston, right?”

  “Exactly.”

  “I hear Beckerson is easy on the eyes, ” Brent says, his thumbs in his back pockets.

  So are you.

  I grit my teeth to keep from saying it, and instead go with, “Some people say Kie is too.”

  Brent chuckles to himself, his shoulders loosening as he takes his hands out of his pockets and his stride matches mine. “So looks aren’t everything?”

  I stop as we near where the other bus is parked, turning to face Brent.

  “Wait.” I point at him. “Shouldn’t you have met them already? I mean you’re the headliner.”

  Brent’s eyes go to the sky before dropping back to me as his cheeks dimple. “Who says I haven’t?”

  “You’re–” adorable; “a pain in the ass.”

  “You shouldn’t say that to the person who’s going to warn you that Fade Burn is sharing a bus with Saints for Sinners.”

  “Warn me?” I ask as my chest tightens.

  Brent scratches behind his ear. “You’ll see.”

  “Tell me!” I say, but Brent just walks passed me.

  “Hey, man!” he says to someone, and I turn slowly to see Brent shaking Adam Beckerson’s hand.

  Adam’s attractive with soft brown hair and eyes that match. His slim build is enhanced by the blue and black plaid over shirt he’s wearing, and he turns to offer me his hand. A busty blonde woman is standing next to him, and she gives me the once over before looking at Brent.

  “Natalie,” I say as I shake his hand. “And you’re the notorious Adam Beckerson; screamer and singer.”

  Adam gives a nod. “Sure am, but I promise I’m not as moody as most people think I am.”

  “Hey, I don’t have to live with you, so you can be as moody as you want,” I reply with a smile.

  The woman next to him reaches her hand out. “Tara. I help manage Fade Burn — social media and such. Skylar let me know you’d be coming.”

  Adam glances over at her, and his eyes dilate. I’m pretty sure she’s more than a manager from the way he’s looking at her, and from the way she’s eyeing me like I’m competition.

  I smile as I shake her hand. “She’s great, huh?”

  “Very organized,” Tara replies, and her voice is flat.

  We stand in quiet for a moment before Adam points over his shoulder. “Uh, the rest of the guys are on the bus. Fade Burn is a four piece, so we bunked up with Saints for Sinners.”

  Adam’s lip twitches and I watch as Tara’s body tenses.

  “Not a fan?” I ask.

  “Better than bunking
with Chaos Coma,” Adam replies as he pulls the bus door open. “Have you met them yet?”

  “I toured with Monsters Five before they broke up and Toby formed Chaos.”

  “Chaos is an accurate name,” Adam replies as we follow him inside.

  I smile but don’t comment any further. I’m not going to shit talk Toby or anyone for that matter. This is business.

  Adam nods to the three guys sitting at the table. “This is my crew. Joe, Mark and Aaron. Guitar, drums, bass.”

  Each looks up at me and greets me in some way, none of them look me up and down, and relief washes over me as Brent stands with me. Maybe I don’t need him.

  “Hey!” a tall guy, covered in tattoos drops down from a top bunk. “It’s the lady of the hour!”

  A knot tightens in my stomach as he smiles down at me with his gray-blue eyes running over my body. I step back as he gets closer. His hair is shaved except for the top that is slicked back. His grin doesn’t flatter me. Brent’s hand finds the small of my back, and my muscles relax a little.

  “This is Natalie, the photographer for Makeshift,” Adam says, nodding between me and this toolbox. He lets Tara sit down and then sits too as if to create a block between them.

  The guy’s brows lift into his forehead. “I thought you were working with the label.”

  “Not exactly. Makeshift hired me, and I do some stuff on the side for the label. Makeshift is my primary concentration,” I say as my hands form fists.

  His lips curl up, and I swallow as his eyes soften. “Awe, that’s a shame.”

  I don’t want to know what’s was running through his mind.

  “At any rate, I came to introduce myself since I’ll be shooting your sets tonight and on a few other occasions, depending on what Makeshift has on their schedule,” I say, and an uncomfortable tingle runs up my spine as his eyebrows rise.

  “So you got your own beautiful paparazzi, aye, Brent?” the guy says, nodding over my shoulder at him.

  Brent’s hand goes rigid against my back. “Not exactly. She’s a part of the crew.”

  The guy sucks in his lower lip. Saints for Sinners are a small time band, and I haven’t had much time to research them. I’m pretty sure this guy has to be the front man, Rich.

  “Ah.” he nods. “My crew is sleeping off last night.”

  My eyes fall to Adam who’s shaking his foot so hard I can feel the vibrations through the floor. He scratches the scruff on his chin as if he’s trying not to launch himself at the guy.

  “Okay,” I reply. “I’m assuming you’re Rich?”

  “Sure am, the sinner,” he replies with a wink.

  “Who’s the saint?” I ask, locking eyes with him. I’m not going to let him get under my skin. He may be a creeper, but I can kick his ass easily.

  “Sure as hell isn’t any of them,” Adam replies with a scoff.

  Brent chuckles behind me, and I bite my lip to keep from smiling. I’m pretty sure they won’t make it through the tour living together, especially with the woman Adam seems to be overprotective with on the bus. It appears Saints for Sinners would be much better suited for Chaos Coma–or at least Toby.

  I clear my throat. “So, I just wanted to meet you guys so you’d know who was running around the back of the stage. I try to stay as invisible as possible.”

  Rich glances down at me. “Oh, I doubt you could be invisible.”

  I blink at him before looking down at Adam who’s now openly glaring at him. An awkward silence sets in, and my insides turn between the way Rich is staring at me and the way Adam is staring him down. Brent stands stiffly behind me, and I’m pretty sure he’s looking at Rich in a way similar to Adam. There’s way too much testosterone on this bus.

  “We should probably go see Chaos Coma,” Brent says, and I smile in relief over my shoulder at him.

  “Right,” I reply, looking at Adam and his band. “Well, it was nice to meet you.”

  “You too,” Adam’s says, his eyes coming back to me.

  “Indeed,” Rich adds, and I grit my teeth before tossing him a fake smile.

  Brent lets me lead the way out, creating a protective wall between Rich and me.

  I exhale as we walk away, and Brent glances over at me. “You sure you want to go see Chaos? I mean you know Toby.”

  After just having to deal with Rich, I’m honestly not sure if I want to.

  “It’s more of a professional duty than anything. I try to treat every band the same,” I reply, tugging at the frayed hem of my shirt.

  “I know you can’t enjoy touring with all of us equally–even if you treat us all the same. Some band members are jackasses,” Brent says, watching me carefully from the corner of his eyes. “So which band member that you’ve toured with is your favorite?”

  You.

  I shrug. “Too early to tell.”

  Brent bumps shoulders with mine, smiling at me until my insides feel like they’re going to burst into butterflies. “I’ll just have to change that.”

  These are some damn big butterflies.

  I cough, looking down at my feet. “You have fun with that.”

  Brent chuckles. “And which band member of which band is your least favorite?”

  The butterflies contort, dropping dead as my stomach rolls. Jace Smith.

  Instead, I nod at the bus ahead of us. “We’re about to go see him. Toby.”

  Toby and Jace are different beasts. When I think of Jace there are least two redeeming qualities: his voice and his good looks. Neither are good enough to make up for the devil I brought out of him, though. Then there’s Toby. There aren’t any redeeming qualities I can think of for him. I shake the thought from my head, glancing over at Brent. He sucks in his cheeks as if he’s wondering if he should comment about one of the bands touring with them. I know I shouldn’t have said anything, but it’s hard not to be honest with him.

  “Yeah,” Brent finally replies. “He has no passion for the music. He’s all about the scene.”

  My insides jump again for a completely different reason as I glance over at him. “Exactly.”

  I can’t avoid locking eyes with him as he reaches the door to the tour bus, half the size of Makeshift’s. I wonder how they cram six guys on this one. Not comfortably, that’s for sure.

  “Don’t worry,” Brent says, his eyes reading my expression. “I’ll keep you safe.”

  “I’m pretty sure we all know I can take care of myself,” I reply as my heart hammers in my throat.

  He’s smiling.

  And I’m having trouble breathing.

  No favorites, Nat.

  Brent shrugs. “Alright, I’ll keep you from using Krav Maga to kick some sense into these jackasses.”

  I tip my head back, laughing before I glance back at him. He raises his eyebrows up and down, and I can’t help smiling.

  “Okay, that might be needed,” I admit with a nod.

  “Am I your favorite yet?” he asks as he knocks on the door.

  I roll my eyes as Toby flings the door open, reaching out and pulling me into a death grip of a hug that I don’t appreciate.

  “Getting there,” I say as I gasp, unable to breathe.

  Brent’s eyes widen knowingly as I think of how many ways I can flip Toby over my head and onto the ground.

  “I thought so,” Brent whispers back.

  Chapter 14

  When we get back to the bus James nods to the back at Brent, and I glance up at him with wide eyes. He looks at the ceiling and then follows James to the back as the bus moves to our next destination. We’re heading to a mall for the signing, and while the guys get gushed over by teenage girls, I plan on taking a nap or working out. I haven’t decided which yet, but figure if I can actually fall asleep that will be the deciding factor. I head back to my bunk and plop down on it, pulling my blanket over my feet.

  “The mall isn’t that far away,” Aiden says from his bunk where he’s reading a magazine with what looks like an atom on it.

  I crack op
en an eye. “I wasn’t planning on going in.”

  “Seriously, you’re not going to come with us?” Brad asks, pouting as he stares down at me in my bunk. “It’s a mall.”

  I smile, closing my eyes again. “Exactly.”

  “So you don’t like malls?” Kie asks, and I hear him jump down from his bunk.

  I open my eyes and stare up at him with his arms crossed. “No.”

  Brent and James come out from the back as Kie’s eyes run over me, and I try not to cringe. “You look like a girl, but I’m starting to wonder…”

  “Ha ha,” I reply, shaking my head. “Not all chicks like malls and I figured I’d get in a work out before the show–relieve some stress.”

  Aiden heaves a sigh, and he pouts, looking at James.

  “No way, man,” James replies, crossing his arms at him.

  Aiden shrugs, and I smile at him. “Some other time.”

  Kie rolls his eyes as he pulls on a leather jacket. “Seriously, you really want your ass to get kicked, Aiden?”

  Aiden’s head jerks backward as he chuckles to himself and then looks over at me. “Oh, I don’t know, I’m pretty good. I don’t have these pecs for nothing.”

  His chest muscles pulsate as he says it, and I gag in response, laughing.

  “Can you do that with yours?” Kie asks, cocking his head at me, so my laughing ceases abruptly.

  I bite the inside of my cheek as I glare at him, but don’t justify the question with a response. Brent comes over and punches Kie in the shoulder lightly.

  “Stop being such a pig,” he says to him, and Kie raises an eyebrow. Brent ignores him, looking down at me. “You should come with us.”