Page 61 of Backstage

Give people something to hold against you so they won’t focus on what you want to hide. Simple and effective, I must admit.

“And a complaint from a photographer could get your record exposed,” Luke says out loud.

“That’s right.”

“Couldn’t you have told us this before?” Martin asks, saying out loud what everyone here is thinking.

“It’s not like people always react well if they know you’ve been in jail...”

Martin shrugs, and Taylor echoes him. “It’s not a problem for us.”

I can see the four guys’ faces relax a bit, and look younger than they are. Now I understand their bodies covered in tattoos, their muscles, and the fact that they seem to protect each other with an unspoken agreement. It’s probably what they did as kids when they were forced to grow up fast.

“So doesn’t that freak you guys out?” Damian is a little bit suspicious.

“Why should it?” The words come out of my lips honestly. “You fucked up when you were young, you paid for it, now you’re respectable adults. I don’t see why we should have a problem with you. It’s not up to us to judge you or make you feel bad about it.”

Damian can’t hold back the smile on his face. “Good.”

“Hey, hold it right there, bad boy. I said it’s okay if you’ve been in jail, but I haven’t forgiven you for treating me like shit. You’ve still got a lot of work to do before I decide not to rip your balls off with my bare hands.” I point my finger at him before I move to the door.

Damian rolls his eyes and steps aside when I pass him without having the courage to look me in the eye.

“Shit, Damian, between her pissed off and prison, I’m pretty sure prison’s better,” whispers Michael as I grab the door handle, pull it open, and slam it, hearing the others laugh at his joke.

I watch her from afar as she prepares for a photoshoot that Evan has organized for the official launch of the Red Velvet Curtains with the record company. It’s a big commitment, and I can see she’s stressed and embarrassed in a skirt that’s too short and a very deep neckline. That’s not her; Lilly is a sweatshirt and jeans, tank top and running shorts kind of girl; or tracksuit pants with the Captain America t-shirt. Yet, she’s accepted the rules of this environment, which require her to look as sexy and glossy as possible.

It’s been four days since I left her, four days of agony where my mind regularly returns to her skin under my hands, my lips, my tongue. She’s not the only woman on earth I could fuck. I wish I was in New York, calling Loretta and fucking all night long, so I could forget Lilly.

“If you keep staring at her like that, you’ll set her on fire,” Thomas’ voice brings me back to reality.

“At least it warms her up, she’s practically naked.” I can’t stop looking at her from afar like a pervert.

My best friend snorts. “I never thought I’d meet a girl who could keep you on your toes like that,” he says, laughing.

I give him a stern look. “I’m just trying to see where she goes so I can avoid her. Sooner or later, voices will calm down if they don’t see us together.” The words come out of my mouth like a child trying to convince his parents he’s learned his lesson.

“Do you really believe that shit you’re saying, or are you trying to show me a good time? Because if it’s the latter, you’re doing just fine.” He raises an eyebrow, smiling.

“Look, I haven’t touched her, I haven’t been near her, I’ve been avoiding her, and she’s okay with that,” I admit with a twinge of anger in my stomach. I’ve never been one to worry about whether or not a girl misses me. In fact, if I’m honest, the idea never even crossed my mind, but the fact that she stays away from me too, and she’s okay with it, it bothers me. The worst thing is that I can’t understand if it’s because of my wounded pride or because I really care what she thinks about me.

“And that’s exactly what you shouldn’t do,” Thomas mumbles amusedly.

I turn to him and look at him, exasperated. “What the hell is wrong with you? First, you tell me not to touch her. Now that I’m away, you tell me not to. You’re about as consistent as a politician during an election,” I grumble angrily.

Thomas bursts out laughing, and it makes me even more irritated. “I’m just saying, you finally found a woman you care about besides yourself and our band. We are your brothers, and we will always be your brothers, you know, but you have to find a way to live your life and enjoy it a little bit...and not only in the physical way.”

His tone is too loving, too full of feelings, and I don’t want to listen. Weren’t drummers once all about sex and rock and roll? Why does he have to have a conscience? Luckily, Michael approaches, pulling us away from this conversation that’s getting too personal.

“She looks sexy in that outfit, doesn’t she? She’s always been a hottie, but now they’re getting her to the next level,” he says with an almost dreamy air as he undresses Lilly with his eyes.

Michael’s comment is so irritating that if it weren’t for the rest of the tour, I would have already ripped his limbs off with my bare hands. Thomas looks at us and giggles while Michael whitens when he looks at my angry face. Literally.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I was just thinking out loud. I swear I’ll never do it again...not even in my head. I’ll have the part of my brain that has dirty thoughts about Lilly removed, I swear...I’m not making it better, am I?” Michael says, stammering, embarrassed, and seriously concerned for his physical safety.

“No, I don’t think so. Shut up, Michael,” Thomas suggests laughing.

“Okay. Anyway, I just came by to see if you guys wanted to hang out tonight. It’s been ages since we’ve been out clubbing, and even longer since I got laid, so I need booze and women. Simon’s obviously a monk locked up in a convent. What about you?” he asks hopefully.

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