Page 3 of Backstage

Simon and Thomas sit on the sofa and laugh while I get out of bed without feeling the need to cover up.

“Jesus Christ! Damian, put on a pair of underwear! We don’t need to see your junk,” swears Simon with a disgusted face.

In response, I sit in the chair in front of him with my legs spread wide, one eyebrow raised in defiance. Thomas throws my shirt on my junk, covering it. I appreciate the drummer’s aim and leave it where it is.

“I’m sorry for the mess I made,” I admit with a grimace as Michael pours everyone a drink.

Simon laughs, and Thomas follows suit, leaving me surprised.

“You should have seen your face when Evan slammed the papers in front of you. Disgusted,” says Simon sipping from his glass.

“I really was. I didn’t want to have those girls’ tongues in my mouth. Jesus, I was petrified they’d think I have a dead fish instead of a tongue. They’re probably wondering how I got my reputation as the god of sex.” I can already see them tweeting:Damian kisses like my 14-year-old brotherand I’m embarrassed at the thought.

They burst out laughing. I’m here looking like an idiot and these assholes, who are supposed to be my friends, laugh out loud. I love them for it.

“It could have happened to any one of us. We were all wasted that night,” admits Michael, sitting in the chair next to mine.

“I wasn’t...” mumbles Simon.

“Yes, but it happened to me.”

“The problem’s gonna be with all those videos of our song. The contest has been open for less than two hours, and there are already 2,000 entries.”

“Wow, how efficient,” I say, disgusted by the speed with which the label burned us at the stake.

Thomas shrugs. “Today was just an ambush. They’d been setting everything up for days since those pictures came out or maybe even before. They wanted that contest, and they got it.”

We just keep quiet and suck it up.

“What song did they choose?” I ask worriedly.

“‘Jude,’” laughs Michael with his face to the ceiling.

“Holy shit, I love that song,” I admit with a grin.

“Not after we’ve listened to the worst possible covers a thousand times, trust me. Our ears will bleed,” laughs Simon. He’s the one taking this almost lightly.

Now that the morning’s anger has subsided, I’m happy to have my friends around. Seeing them all here together in this room helps lighten the weight I’ve been carrying on my chest for days. It’s as if by merely being here, they said, “Man, we’re here to help you out.”

“So? Are we going out tonight before they lock us in a studio indefinitely? I haven’t gotten laid in two nights already.” Michael is clearly worried about his celebrity life having a setback.

“Stop me from drinking before knocking myself out and make sure I get in the car with Max, please.”

Everyone’s laughing except Simon. “I’m the one who’ll be chugging gallons of soda tonight and having to babysit you idiots.” He’s complaining without too much conviction, as if he’s already accepted his role.

“You never drink alcohol when we go out. I feel like I’m living with a cloistered nun,” Michael says.

“Because you idiots don’t have any functioning neurons when you have alcohol in your system. You need someone sober, so you don’t make a mess. Look what happened the last time I took my eyes off Damian for five seconds. I ditched him for three fucking minutes to take a piss, and he was in a cab going who knows where.”

Michael laughs out loud, me a little less, as our drummer shakes his head and grabs the phone out of his pocket.

“Give me half an hour, I’ll book some clubs and make sure I have the cars ready for tonight. I can’t remember if Dave and Max are on shift. Please, low profile and no paparazzi, okay? I don’t want to have to deal with Evan banging newspapers all over the place again.” Thomas is begging us, especially nailing me with his eyes.

The party boy, the impulsive, the wise guy, and the planner. We make a good team when we’re sober. It’s too bad sometimes things get out of hand and we find ourselves in Evan’s office, all four of us united, as always, like the scared kids we were at the beginning who had each other’s backs.

“No, absolutely not. No way.”

I feel like I’m getting warmed up, and my stomach starts gurgling. I don’t know how long I can hold it off after hearing this news.

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