Page 13 of Backstage

“You screwed up, you pay the consequences,” Evan shuts him up by pointing the finger at him.

“I have no idea why he should be punished, but why do I have to get involved?” I ask, astonished.

“Please. This is gonna be fun. And we can start getting to know each other musically with no stage pressure,” Luke begs me.

I can see the desperation in his eyes. He’s trying to convince me to give this a chance. I think back to the conversation we had the night we submitted to the competition, on the roof of our rehearsal room. I recall his dreams being far less frivolous than just getting easy fucks, and I feel the guilt hurling at me and making me give in.

“By doing this, we can also get a feel for how the audience will react to this novelty without succumbing to the pressure of a live show,” Even urges when he sees me surrender.

“Okay,” I hear myself whisper.

“I’ll tell Jordan to come to recording room four right now and bring one of the guys downstairs with the camera.” Evan gets up and walks out of the room like a speeding bullet, maybe for fear I’ll change my mind.

The others seem thrilled by what’s going on, but I can’t hear a single word. My brain is focusing on everything that can go wrong. I can feel Luke’s arms wrapping around me from behind.

“Everything’s gonna be okay,” he whispers in my ear as we walk down the hall to the recording studio where Evan’s already got the stools set up. On the other side, the sound engineer, Jordan, is adjusting the mixer.

I can’t answer him because of the knot in my stomach when they make me sit between Damian and Luke: the devil and the holy water. I have the impression that this choice is not random. The contrast between Luke’s angelic face and Damian’s sinful one seems almost planned on a drawing board. Me in the middle pretending to be indecisive between the two. What could possibly go wrong? Everything. But when Michael, Martin, and Simon start to accompany us on guitar while Taylor and Thomas add percussion, everything changes.

Music is my love. While with Luke I can sing naturally and on key, given the years of practice we have behind us, I feel my legs shaking when it comes to Damian’s part. He is a colossal asshole when he’s off stage, but when you’re in the middle of his song, everything else disappears. His eyes, like magnets, draw me. His rough and sensual voice caresses my skin, making me shiver. I forget the discussion we just had, the anger. I even forget to breathe. Singing with him is like making love without needing to touch each other. I find it extremely difficult to look away from him to Luke, who sings the next verse.

My friend’s eyes are sweet, in stark contrast to the sensual charge that Damian exudes, and when the song ends, and the heroine chooses the beautiful and damned, I can understand why. My body is a river of hot lava flowing under my skin, my heart pumps into my chest, and the excitement makes my head light.

Damian is staring at me as if we were alone in this room, the coldness he’s shown so far dissolved in a sensual, almost animalistic heat. I feel like the prey unable to escape the predator who wants to play with his dinner. My eyes slide down to his slightly open lips, and I struggle to shake off the desire to discover how they would feel on my skin while he kisses my neck. When I lift my eyes back to his, the lust I see almost makes me moan.

Damian is short of breath, and a slight smile curls one side of his mouth as if challenging me, inviting me to taste his lips like a forbidden fruit. Instinctively, I lick mine as if with that gesture I could taste him. His eyes follow my tongue and then up again to mine, nailing me to the spot with clear and irrepressible desire.

I’m panting. Damian didn’t even touch me, and I’m short of breath as though recovering from an orgasm after a night of wild sex. All he had to do was use that hoarse voice, the one that makes you vibrate all the way down to your insides. That same sensual charge he puts out on stage has me at his feet, right here and now. I’m embarrassed by my lack of control.

“Okay, we’ll do it a couple more times to make sure we have enough material to edit, but please don’t let go of the energy of this first version.” Evan’s voice sounds metallic through the microphone on the other side of the glass, bringing us back to reality.

It takes us at least three hours to finish the recordings. Evan makes us all play together because he wants the result not to be perfect, but to look like stolen moments during our initial meeting. I’m exhausted when we finally get our jackets and leave the building that has made us the heroes of one of the most surreal days of our lives.

This morning I woke up convinced that I would never, ever accept a contract with them, now I find myself with a pile of papers to read and a series of signatures to fill out. I had planned not to be persuaded for any reason in the world, not even by the begging faces of my friends.

Precisely what went wrong?

I walk into Evan’s office, and, by the time I see them all sitting there with a thirty-two-tooth smile on their faces, I realize my day’s off to a bad start. I already had my suspicions when our manager called and said I had to show up at the office to discuss the Red Velvet Curtains’ tour.

“Did you see that? In less than twenty-four hours, we have over five hundred thousand views and thousands of messages.” Evan looks overhyped like he’s been doing coke. If I wasn’t sure he’s not on drugs, I’d tell him to go home and sleep it off.

“No, I’m not glued to the internet like you. I have a life.” Considering I spent the evening watching a TV show on Netflix, I wouldn’t consider it too exciting, but they don’t need to know that. The truth is, I purposely avoided the damn video because I’m bothered by the media spectacle they’re creating around us.

“Apparently, you and Lilly are the new golden couple of music,” giggles Michael, making fun of me while I give him the stink eye. He loves to tease me.

I sit on the free chair and wait for our manager to explain what Michael just said. I suspect it has something to do with the comments he mentioned earlier.

“People are crazy about the video. They already love the Red Velvet Curtains, but mostly they love the chemistry between you and Lilly.”

I look at him thoughtfully, with a wrinkle on my forehead. “Chemistry? There’s no chemistry between her and me, how the hell did you edit the video?” Maybe I should have watched it and approved it before it got published.

“I can guarantee you there’s nothing fake about it. It looked like you guys were gonna get laid any minute. She was out of breath at the end of the song, it was like she had an orgasm just looking at you.” Thomas continues teasing me in that smart-ass tone that pisses me off. I can’t stand it when he makes me feel like an idiot because I can’t understand something he clearly sees as the absolute truth.

“We’ve decided to ride the wave of this contest’s success and get you gigs in small clubs here in Manhattan. Like exclusive VIP parties or meet and greets, so you and Lilly can sing a few songs alone.”

Everyone’s smiling at this idiotic proposal. Am I the only one who doesn’t see anything good in it? “What the hell are you thinking?” I blurt out angrily.

Evan comes over, puts his hand on my shoulder, and pushes me back into the chair. He points a finger in my face. “Do you have any idea how famous those kids are gonna be? I haven’t felt this way since I first set eyes on the four of you. I’m not gonna pass up an opportunity like this just because you’re acting out. You love being on stage with just your acoustic guitar, now you’re just acting like a spoiled brat because you want to bust my balls.”

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