by R H Tucker
“Thank you,” I reply, trying to sound confident.
“Don’t you think Maddox is so hot? Will you see him a lot? I mean, Derrik is hot, too, but I guess he’s going out with some girl he knew back in high school or something, but I’d still go out with him. Maddox has that dark appeal, though, you know? Mysterious, but he's also into partying and everything. He’s so—”
“Yeah,” I chuckle nervously, taking back my keychain from her. I leave a twenty-dollar bill on the counter. “He’s, uh, something. Keep the change.”
“Oh.” She stares pointedly down at the counter. “Do you need your receipt?”
“Nope, I’m good,” I call back, waving at her, and I exit the store.
I chuckle to myself, walking away. I don’t know that we’ll ever reach the heights of fame as the Kings, and I don’t know that I ever want to. Don’t get me wrong, it’s amazing they have fans all over the world who seem to worship the ground they walk on, but that much fame and power? It’s … unsettling.
With my keychain in hand, I head into a small clothing store that’s covered in garments featuring a bunch of the eighties and nineties nostalgia. I love that stuff. My mom turned me on to the original Star Wars when I was younger since she’s a huge nerd, and some of that’s transferred over to me through the years. Then, she sat me down one night a few years back and introduced me to the classics of the nineties teen shows. Who knew the original 90210 could grasp a girl’s heart with Brandon Walsh’s dimples and Dylan McKay’s smoldering stares like they did, let alone, her daughter’s years later?
Taking a T-shirt from a shelf displaying the entire cast of the show, I hold it up, deciding if I want to get it. As I stare at it, someone rushes in behind me, bumping into my back, almost knocking me into the shelf.
“Hey!” I yell, turning around to see the guy scrambling behind me and ducking into a huge, circular rack of clothes. “What’s your problem?”
“Shh!” he yells back, waving his finger at me, the only body part I can see of him since he’s now standing in the middle of the rack of clothes.
“What are you doing?” I ask more sternly, putting a hand to my hip. “I’m gonna have the store call security if this is some kind of gross fetish—”
“Please!” He pokes his head out, and my eyes pop open. It’s EJ Tyler. One of the Kings of Karmichael. “Please, please, please. I’ll sign whatever you want, but please! Just act like I’m not here for two minutes.”
“What?”
He doesn’t answer. Instead, he slips back into the middle of the rack and vanishes into the line of hanging shirts. Then I hear screaming. Spinning around, I see a mob of shrieking girls, all of them with their hands in the air, holding posters, toy guitars, and other items while shouting into the indoor alley.
Most of them run by the small store, but a few slow down, eagerly peering into the windows. One stares at me, while a couple more walk inside, searching frantically for someone, apparently EJ.
“Maddox and Jade just ran across the street!” I hear a distant yell.
All of the girls that are inside immediately perk up, then spin around, chasing after the rest of the crowd. After another minute, the screaming starts to subside, but EJ remains hidden.
“They're gone,” I whisper to him, but he doesn’t come out.
I have no idea what’s happening, but as terrifying as that mass of howling fans was, a small smirk crosses my lips. This is insane.
He finally pokes his head out. His eyes dart around the store, then they find me. Offering a sheepish smile, he slowly makes his way out. Pulling at his shirt and adjusting his pants, he tries to come off as a calm and sane individual, not someone who just dove into a rack of clothes to hide from a screaming load of fans.
He’s cute. I mean, I’ve always thought he was cute. Not like his brother or drummer, who give off more of a hot vibe. EJ seems like the kind of guy that likes to hang out on the beach, while Derrik and Maddox have always come off as the party guys. Not that I’d known from firsthand experience. I’ve never met any of them personally.
He brushes his coffee-colored hair to the side, his light brown eyes continuing to dodge back and forth, ready to run at a moment's notice. His face reddens, and he bites his bottom lip. I’m not sure if he’s nervous about what just happened, or he thinks I’m going to be one of the crazed fans that were just chasing after him. Either way, his cute, sheepish expression keeps my smile locked in place.
“Thanks,” he finally whispers.
“What the hell was that?”
5
EJ
Planet Rock is a new music and celebrity museum place that opened last year. They have spots in New York, London, Paris, Los Angeles, and now, Las Vegas. Last year while we were on tour, we held signings at all of the other locations, and now that their newest one is open, we’re the first to hold an event. It should’ve been a cakewalk. We knew the lines for this one would be crazy. It’s Friday, the music festival starts today, and everyone is rolling into town. We were expecting at least triple of the turnout we had at the music store the other day. What we weren’t expecting was for all hell to break loose.
It started simply enough. Our car dropped us off in front of the hotel with our security team, as is usually the case for big signings. We make our grand entrance through the venue, in today’s case, the New York, New York hotel, and head to the meet and greet. It didn’t seem like a crazy amount of people from the outside, but the minute we walked into the casino lobby, I think my eardrums almost burst from the shrieking of fans. They were everywhere. Literally, everywhere.
Derrik and Maddox played it up, as they usually do, and we were taken down to Planet Rock. It’s actually an impressive venue. The hotel built on a brand-new wing just for the museum, which houses rock and roll memorabilia from today and years past. Things like instruments used during Super Bowls, iconic apparel worn by megastars from the past, or anything else you could think of that would be a major music event.
Anyway, we got to the venue, and the line of fans that were waiting was endless. It might’ve wrapped around through the second and third floors, I have no idea. What I do know is that someone tried to cut someone else in line.
Signing for a nice girl, who was way too excited as she got to the table, I heard shouting from outside of the room we were sitting in. Glancing over at Jade, I gave a “what’s going on?” gesture, and she shrugged. One of our security personnel went out, and then there was more shouting. I overheard the guy yelling that a fight broke out because someone was trying to jump in front of the line, and the next thing I knew, more and more fans were cramming the doorway. The rest of our security—which was only two more guys dressed in black slacks and blazers— tried to hold them back, but it was no use. A few began crawling to get into the room, and when the security bent over to stop them, more started crawling on top. I swear, it was like a zombie apocalypse scene, only instead of raging undead, it was ferocious teenage girls.
All of us jumped out of our seats, and even Maddox was freaking out. One of the volunteers who was helping us by escorting the fans and the pieces we were signing down the line acted quickly, and thankfully so. Otherwise, we may have been torn to pieces. She escorted us to the side of the room and a small doorway that led to a hallway only employees for the hotel used, and we bolted. I don’t think I’ve ever run so fast in my life.
Unfortunately, we weren’t out of the fire yet. There was no place to go in the employee hallway, except finding a door at the end and having to embark through the casino. We knew hundreds and hundreds of fans were out on the loose, and if I’m honest, I thought I was too young to die. Even if it would’ve been by girls grasping at my clothes and probably other body parts.
“We have to split up,” Derrik shouted.
“Are you nuts?” I screamed back, and we stopped by an exit door, not knowing what was on the other side.
“He’s right,” Jade agreed with him. “If we split up, it’ll be easier to hide fro
m them.”
“No way in hell I’m leaving you alone,” Maddox told his sister.
“Okay,” Derrik shouted, then pulled the hoodie over his head. Maddox was also wearing one, and I shook my head at myself, wishing I had some cover. “Maddox and Jade, you two stick together. Once we get through these doors, we bolt. I’ll go left, you guys go straight, and you go right, EJ. Get out of the casino, and try to hop in the first taxi you can. Meet back up at the hotel. Cool?”
We all nodded frantically. Leaning against the door, he let out a deep breath, then started chuckling, looking over at me. “This is crazy.”
That was five minutes ago. A lot can happen in five minutes.
The instant he opened the door, all of us shot out of the hallway like we’d been shot from a cannon. And I immediately heard the screaming of teenage girls once again. If I thought I was running fast before, I feel like I’m a bolt of lightning now. I buzz through the crowd, all while still hearing the faint call of my name and words like “king,” “Maddox,” and “ohmygod” in the background.
Running through the hotel, I get to a line of shops and start noticing they don’t look particularly busy. If I can get into one and maybe hide in a dressing room, then I might be able to lose the crowd, if only for a minute, and give myself more time to get out of the hotel. So that’s what I do.
I hurry into a clothing store and immediately scan the surroundings, searching for a dressing room, but find nothing. Three large, circular racks of clothes are erected in the middle, though, and I think I might be able to hide in the middle of one of those. Rushing over to one, I nearly knock over a girl who’s looking at a shelf of T-shirts, but can’t do anything about that. I’m running for my life here.
“Hey!” I hear her yell at me, but like I said, no time! I dive into the middle of the rack of shirts.
“What’s your problem?”
“Shh!” I yell back.
I wait patiently. Nervously. Not knowing if they’ll find me or who this girl is. Then a genuinely terrifying thought hits me. What if she’s a fan? Oh my God, what if she tells everyone?
“What are you doing? I’m gonna have the store call security if this is some kind of gross fetish—”
“Please!” I poke my head out from between the hanging clothes. She looks seriously pissed off for a split second, then I see her dark brown eyes widen. She knows me. Crap! “Please, please, please. I’ll sign whatever you want, but please! Just act like I’m not here for two minutes.”
“What?”
I don’t take another chance. I pull my head back behind the clothing and wait. This is like a horror movie that I never wanted to be a part of. I wait like a terrified victim from Dawn of the Dead, anticipating the horde of fans to break through the clothes any minute. It’ll be a massacre.
I catch a name from a distance that sounds like “Maddox," but can’t be sure. Still unwilling to chance it, I nervously chew on my thumbnail, wishing I could magically appear back in the penthouse and away from this craziness.
“They’re gone,” I hear her whisper from beyond the clothes. I shake my head to myself, unsure if I should believe her. What if she’s setting me up? Oh God, I’ve been transported from a zombie movie to a suspense thriller where I can’t trust anyone.
But I have to take a chance. I can’t stay in the store forever. Poking my head out, I nervously scan the store, then find her smirking down at me. I control my emotions because I am still in the middle of running for my life, but this girl is incredible. From my angle, since I’m ducking behind T-shirts, she looks like she’s about my height. Maybe a tad shorter. Light brown hair with highlights. Her jeans are slightly ripped, in the fashionable kind of way. Her form-fitting top is a light green shirt that shows off just a peek of her stomach, and more than a peek of her chest.
Get it together, EJ. You’re being hunted.
I hope I’m not blushing, and I doubly hope she didn’t notice me checking her out. Biting my lips, I scan the store again. “Thanks,” I whisper to her.
“What the hell was that?”
I’m taken aback by her bluntness. Not because it’s blunt, but because she doesn’t sound like a fan. As a matter of fact, she seems like she doesn’t even know me. Could I be that lucky to find someone who doesn’t know who I am, and I could get out of this and back to the hotel scot-free?
“Oh, it’s … complicated,” I reply, scratching the back of my head, stepping out from the rack of clothes.
She smirks. “Complicated? Yeah, when one of the Kings of Karmichael hides underneath a load of shirts from shrieking fans, it sounds a bit more than complicated.”
Damn it. She does know me. Before my brain can fire away, trying to think of some excuse to break away from her, hoping she doesn’t go insane like the ones chasing me, she extends her hand to me.
“Skye Robbins,” she says with a smile.
“Oh.” I stare at the hand, then back at her. A handshake? That’s new. “Um, I’m—”
“EJ Tyler. I know.”
I grimace. “You’re a fan?”
She laughs, setting off more alarms. Not because she might be, but because this entire interaction is so off. “Not exactly.” She giggles. “I mean, I do like your music, but I’m performing this month. I’m in The Electrocutes.”
My eyes widen, and a new sense of ease takes over. “Oh, I’ve heard of you guys. Nice. You got that song … what’s it called?” I snap my fingers, trying to remember. “‘Over the Hills,’ right?”
She smiles, easing more of my fears. She has a cute smile. “That’s the one. Our biggest hit yet. I mean, nothing like ‘Road to Z,’ or any of the hits you guys have had, but it’s climbing the charts for us.”
“That’s awesome,” I reply. “Who’s your bassist? She can rip. I think Jade got jealous the first time she heard that song.”
Biting the corner of her lips, her face turns crimson. “Um … me.”
A quiet moment floats between us. The red on her face turns pink, starting to fade a bit, and I could find it adorable, but my eyes glance over her shoulder, remembering why I’m in here in the first place. She must notice because she looks over her shoulder. “So, what’s going on?”
I let out an unbelieving chuckle. “A meet and greet gone horribly wrong. Our security got overthrown, we had to disappear like we were a band of ninjas. I think someone lost an arm.”
Exchanging a round of laughs, I glance around the store. “I need a hoodie. And some sunglasses. I still have to get out there and find a way back to my hotel.”
“Here.” She quickly grabs a gray hoodie that has E.T. on the front of it. I quirk an eyebrow. “What? Everyone loves E.T.”
I head to the cash register, but stop in my tracks. I can’t take the chance of the cashier knowing me. Looking back at Skye, I shrug. “Uh, can you pay for it?” A line crosses her brow. “Oh, no. Not like, pay for it. I’ll pay, but I don’t want to take the chance the cashier—”
“Oh, yeah. No problem.”
Pulling out my card, I give it to her, then remember my name’s on it. “Damn it,” I hiss. “What if they ask for a signature or see the card?”
“EJ, it’s fine. I got it.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, don’t worry.”
I nod, feeling bad that she’s paying for it, but we are talking about my life here. I nervously keep my eyes peeled and haven’t seen any more fans running by, so I hope that means they are all gone. When she returns, she hands me the sweatshirt, and I throw it on, pulling the hood over my hair.
“Thanks again,” I tell her. “I guess I should get going. I don’t know how I’m gonna make it to the Spotlight without being seen. Hopefully, I can grab a taxi without anyone noticing.”
“The Spotlight?” she asks, and I nod. “Oh, that’s where we’re staying. Which floor are you on?”
“We’re in the penthouse.”
She laughs, peeking over my shoulder. “Of course you are.” Smiling, she looks back a
t me. “I’ll go with you if you want? I can be a second pair of eyes.”
“Yeah, sure.” I shrug.
Taking off through the store, the nerves bounce around inside. As if I’m being tailed by spies, or committing an act of espionage, my head stays on a swivel with my senses up. All the worry starts to die as we end the row of restaurants and shops, and I can see the doors that’ll lead to the exit of the hotel. Fifty feet and I’ll be on the street. There are usually taxi cabs everywhere, so hopefully, the hardest part is behind us.
Skye glances back at me, smiling. I can only assume all of this is hysterical to her, but thankfully she doesn’t seem to be making a big deal out of it. She’s in a band, and even if they aren’t widely known like us, I’m sure she’s been around other celebrities and knows the chaos that can sometimes bring with it.
Her smile drops, and she stops walking. I almost bump into her, but stop just short, noting we’re in front of a small, Italian restaurant with a few tables sitting outside of the doors.
“What’s wrong? Hungry?” I joke.
“Uh … we might have a problem,” she whispers, glancing over my shoulder. I turn to see, but she grabs my face. “Don’t look. There are about fifteen girls, all with Kings shirts on. They’re peering into every shop window.”
“Crap.”
Her eyes jump around while I wonder how fast I can make a break for it out through the doors. She presses up against me, and I’m pushed against a small table with two chairs outside of the restaurant.
I look back at her, confused. “What are you doing?”
“Sit down,” she orders.
“This is not the time to sit down. This is the time to run,” I scold her through a clenched jaw.
Putting her hand against my chest, I have nowhere to go but take a seat in the chair and can feel my forehead begin to sweat. But any and all nerves from being stalked vanish, replaced with a brand-new set of nervousness when Skye plops down and sits in my lap.
I jerk my head back, unsure what’s happening, and she lets out a giggle that sounds rehearsed.