Page 17 of Too Little Too Soon
Fuck it, he wasn’t going to think about her anymore. At least not until after the show.
Lacey announced their last song—which wasn’t really their last song because they had built in two encores—and the lights dimmed almost to nothing while the spotlight focused on Parker, who plucked the first deep notes of “Why Can’t We Be.”
The crowd went nuts. This song didn’t have a drum beat, so Travis got to sit this one out. He rested his sticks on his thigh and scanned the crowd, searching for a particular dark-haired beauty he tried to tell himself he didn’t care about and yet really wanted to see.
His gaze landed on a woman standing in the wings, swaying to the beat, and he did a double take. For a split second there, he’d thought he saw Ava, but no, that was Oz’s girlfriend. Although they did look a little alike. Same dark hair, similar features and stature.
Like they could be sisters.
Hey, hadn’t Maria said her sister would be here tonight? The third one, the eldest of the three.
She was probably with Holly, who was no doubt backstage, getting ready for her own performance once Demigoddess Revival was done.
The acoustic duet ended and the lights faded to nothing. The crowd went ballistic, calling for more.
It was Travis’s time to shine. They’d decided to cover one of Panic Station’s songs and hadn’t told the headlining band, which he figured would be good for a laugh later. This particular song was heavy hitting and drum forward, aptly named “Drum Me Away.”
He slammed his sticks onto the skins, and the lights flashed on, throbbing red and orange and green and blue. Oz joined in with his guitar, Parker stepped up with his thrumming bass, and Cash tapped on the keys, building and building and building until the spotlight flashed onto Lacey, and Travis by default, since she was standing behind him on his kit.
It was a fast-paced, hard-driving song. Travis loved every minute of it. It was a great way to get the crowd pumped for the next act and would hopefully leave them believing Demigoddess Revival was one of the best bands they’d ever seen live.
Once again the lights went out, and once again the crowd roared, begging for more. After a few minutes’ buildup, they gave their fans what they wanted, ending the show with the second single from their first album, “A Way Out.”
Finally, it was over. The band said their goodbyes and left the stage, and the lights came on so the strike crew could flip the set for Panic Station’s show.
Maria met them backstage, throwing herself into Oz’s arms despite how soaked in sweat he was.
“Hey, Maria,” Travis said as they made their way toward their shared dressing room—they weren’t big enough yet to warrant individual rooms like Panic Station—“remember that stalker I had a few months ago?”
“Weallremember that,” Parker said, walking backward to face Travis while he talked.
“Yeah, well, she’s here,” Travis said. “She was sitting in seats I’d left at will call for someone else.”
“What?” Maria yelped, already pulling out her phone and tapping on the screen. “Hadn’t we put a ban on her ever coming to another concert?”
Not that something like that was truly enforceable, but shit, she shouldn’t have been able to snap up tickets that had someone else’s name on them.
“She was right in the fucking front row,” Travis bit off. He didn’t mean to take out his frustration on Maria, but damn it, that stalker had really fucked with his life for a few months—spreading a rumor about him knocking her up when he hadn’t even touched the girl came to mind—and he wasn’t in a hurry for a repeat performance.
A door opened behind Parker, who was still walking backward. Before Travis could saywatch out, Holly stepped out of the room and Parker walked right into her.
While the two of them attempted to untangle, another woman stepped out of Holly’s dressing room, and Travis’s attention tunneled on that single person standing in the crowded hallway.
It was Ava. And she looked fucking amazing in tight linen slacks and a stretchy shirt that made her boobs look incredible. Her hair was down, tumbling over one shoulder in a mess of waves. Diamonds winked in her ears.
She was almost painfully beautiful.
And she was walking out of Holly’s dressing room.
“Hey,” Maria called out, grinning from ear to ear. She swung an arm around Holly and another around Ava’s shoulders. “Everybody, I want you to meet our oldest and coolest sister, Ava Hearsy. Ava, this is the band. Well, Oz’s band. Have you met Holly’s band yet? Anyway, that’s Oz, and Lacey, and Parker, Cash, and that guy who’s staring at you like he's seen a ghost is our drummer, Travis.”
Ava’s eyes widened to comical proportions while her mouth fell open. “Drummer,” she said before snapping her mouth closed.
“Sister,” Travis said dumbly.
No wonder he’d thought she looked like Maria.
Because they were fucking sisters.
