Page 66 of Enjoying the Band in Lockdown

The band left him alone, busying themselves until the concert began and they could be fans before turning into rockstars.

Me? I ignored another dozen texts from Anon and tried to find a sign that last night meant something to Xavier. The glass vial had never felt so heavy around my neck.

Whether the concert was a spectacular failure or success depended on whether you were me, or the rest of the world.

Stormy Waters set the mood, the scene, and the standard that every other band had to lift to reach. By the time they came back on for their half hour set, the little Australian concert was making international news and breaking online platforms.

Deacon inviting Xav to jam a version of Be Still blew the concert apart. The brotherly comradery was second only to Xavier’s performance and when Deacon offered The Flying Monkeys the chance to do all four of their originals, we knew it was a mark of respect.

Deacon respected his brother’s talent.

The Flying Monkeys launched with Deluge of Darkness and followed it up with Scream it Green. Trent took over the microphone and captured hearts the world over with his hauntingly beautiful, Lost.

Everything was going well, until Dirty Blonde.

Of course, Xavier’s version had won the fan vote. But when he started his solo, shoving Devon away from the keyboard to bring it home, Devon decided to train one of the cameras onto me.

Me!

I wasn’t talent. I wasn’t a singer. I wasn’t even part of the band.

I wasn’t even Sydney.

But millions of people watched as Xavier made me his dirty blonde.

Within hours, we’d become a meme. Everyone’s favorite love under lockdown romance.

Girls were hating on me online for stealing a man they didn’t even know existed until an hour ago.

Media wanted to know me and our story.

I just wanted to know if last night had a repeat button because my insecurities were now in full flight. Seventeen fan clubs had been launched in Xavier’s name overnight. Plus another twelve for the band.

I might have seduced them. Played with them. Enjoyed every part of their bodies and gotten to know their hearts. But last night didn’t mean we had a future, sometimes a one-night stand only lasted for one night.

“Hey guys, check out the beast outside!”

The next morning, Trent was the first to spot the end of my life as I knew it. Although at the time, even I assumed the black limousine was for Australia’s new favorite rock band. All the overnight reviews were glowing and Xavier singing Be Still with his brother’s band was already being described as handing the mantle from one generation to the next.

“Get presentable, I’ll get the door,” I called out. The last thing the band needed was for the press or their future manager to meet Devon in nothing more than boxer shorts, or Xavier in less. Xavier had returned to our bed at some crazy time, closely followed by Devon. Sandwiching me in kisses before falling into a dead sleep. No opportunity or time for the conversation Xav and I needed. I’d promised to stay until after the concert. Today was the day after the concert, and it seemed almost fitting that a black limousine rolled up, likely to carry my band away.

“Good morning, I’m—” I froze.

No.

No.

No.

No.

Please, for the love of—NOOO!

The six-foot five heavy set Italian needed no introduction. I didn’t need him to flex his arms or click his fists together to remember his power. He only looked small against the two men at either side. Of course, they were wearing darkened glasses on a cloudy morning.

There was no point in running. He’d found me once, because of my stupidity. Whether it had been my voice over for the song challenge, or when the camera had panned to me while Xavier sang Dirty Blonde, it didn’t matter.

My life was now over.

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