Page 46 of The Heartbreakers
“Yeah, and Cara’s.”
“Okay,” Xander said, frowning and scratching his head. “That’s way confusing. No more science talk.”
“Fine by me.” Talking about Cara and Drew made me think of home, and thinking of home made me feel a whole range of unwanted emotions. I hadn’t even been gone two full days, but my stomach churned with a pang of homesickness, and I blinked a few times to keep my eyes from watering.
Before either of us managed to change the topic, Courtney swept into the room. “You lot ready?” she asked, one hand on her hip, the other clutching the clipboard she always had with her. “It’s showtime.”
It took another fifteen minutes before the Heartbreakers actually stepped onstage. Before leaving, the boys huddled in a tight circle and Oliver led a quick prayer. Then Courtney ushered them out of the room and I tailed behind, receiving a crash course lesson on the who’s who involved with running a concert.
It was amazing how many people were actually required for the operation. There was Dan, the production manager, who ran the technical crew that dealt with the movement and setup of equipment. Fred, who the boys called Smiley, was the stage manager, and his job involved controlling the band and crew’s movement both onstage and off.
He directed the boys to their preshow spots, and then the back-line crew, who were in charge of the instruments, handed Oliver and Xander their guitars and Alec his bass. Ritvik was the sound engineer, and then there were Barry, the monitor engineer; Mr. P, the lighting operator; and dozens more employees whose names I couldn’t remember.
When it was finally time, the lights in the arena were brought down. The audience reacted instantly, the screams of thousands of girls melding together to form one giant roar, and the sheer volume made the hair on my arms rise.
“Excited?” Courtney shouted over the noise as a crew member handed us headsets to counter the sound of the show.
“Strangely nervous,” I admitted. As I pulled on the headset, I peered out at the crowd. It was a glowing, flashing mass of cameras and cell phones, and the thought of stepping onstage made my stomach drop.
“Just between you and me?” she said. “I always get preshow jitters.”
Her confession made me feel better, but I never got the chance to thank her. The stage lights flashed back on, revealing the Heartbreakers to the crowd. Cheers tripled, but the sound was suddenly overtaken by the band’s opening song as it blasted from the arena’s assembly of speakers.
The jitters, as Courtney called them, fell away the moment my eyes found Oliver. I sucked in a sharp breath, and for the next three and a half minutes I couldn’t look away.
“Thank you everyone for coming tonight,” Oliver shouted when the song ended and the crowd noise finally died down. “We’re so happy you could join us!” The thundering response of the audience made my head rattle, but the boys seemed unaffected. Oliver looked back at the rest of his bandmates. JJ nodded his head and raised his drumsticks over his head.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Oliver said. “We are the Heartbreakers.”
“A one, a two, and a one, two, three, four!”
• • •
“Stella Bear, don’t be such a party pooper.”
The concert had finished a half hour ago, and we were back in the dressing room. The boys were trying to convince me to go out and celebrate with them. Apparently there was an after-party at some dance club downtown, but I declined their invite.
“Are you trying to kill me my first day on the job?” I asked JJ. “I’m exhausted. I could curl up on the floor right here and sleep for the next week.”
It was both the truth and an excuse. My entire body ached. The band’s never-ending schedule wore me out, but that wasn’t the real reason I didn’t want to go to a party with the boys.
Today was my freebie, the one day I had to acclimate myself to the boys’ busy lifestyle. Now it was over and tomorrow was the real deal—I wouldn’t just be hanging out with the guys and goofing off. I had a job to do, and Paul expected me to produce results. The realization made my throat tight, and for the first time in my life, I worried that I wouldn’t be able to get a good enough shot.
What I needed now was to go back to my hotel room where I could decompress and try to prepare myself for tomorrow.
“Have a shot or two,” JJ said, swiping a bottle of whiskey off the counter and offering it to me. “Then you’ll be ready to go.” He’d pulled the dark-brown liquor out when we first returned to the room, and the boys were taking turns chugging straight from the mouth of the bottle.
“I better not,” I said, declining his outstretched hand. “Tomorrow is my official first day of work, and I don’t want to chance a hangover.” I didn’t mention that I’d never actually drank before. It wasn’t that I was a Goody Two-shoes, but with Cara’s cancer, partying was never on my priority list.
“Pretty please?”
“Give it a rest, JJ,” Alec said, turning away from the mirror. He’d spent the past ten minutes restyling his hair. I didn’t know he’d been listening, but I was thankful he had.
“But we’re—” JJ started to say.
“There’ll be plenty of other parties for her to go to,” Alec said and cut him off with a stern stare.
The two boys glared at each other, a silent battle of wills, but then JJ sighed and looked away. “Fine,” he said and crossed his arms. “But only if Stella promises to come out with us next time.”
