Page 58 of Hard Rock Fling
I had to keep reminding myself that was all we were. That was all I wanted us to be.
And maybe if I kept on repeating it, I could convince myself that was true.
Chapter Twenty
Clothes fittings weren'tthe only thing I was tasked with. My most important assignment was to prepare for Darkest Days' first photoshoot.
Not only did we need pictures of the guys for their album artwork, we needed pictures for promotional purposes. Photos for the website, for social media, for flyers and posters and advertisements — these images were going to be everywhere.
The members were being photographed with their own individual backdrop. We created what was essentially an entire movie set for each of them. You'd think we were filming some Hollywood blockbuster with the level of detail we put into the construction.
Some of the sets had been easier to design than others. Ian and Damon shared the same set — a boudoir-style bedroom with torn sheets and broken glass everywhere.
Cameron's set was split in half — one section styled like the interior of a creepy haunted house for his "demon" side. The other section was styled like the interior of a prince's castle for his "gentleman" side.
The haunted mansion had a sweeping, spiral staircase leading to nowhere. The furniture was covered in fake dusty sheets, as if no one had lived there for years. Candelabras mounted to the walls held black candles, thick blobs of wax melting down the sides. Cobwebs lined every corner. It was as creepy a haunted house as I'd ever seen.
The castle side was something straight out of a Disney movie. The set up had crystal chandeliers, red velvet window dressings, and a gleaming marble floor. It was ready for a prince and princess to have their sweeping dance across the ballroom.
It was similar to some of the rooms in Cameron's own home, minus the empty beer bottles and trash on the floor.
Noah's was more difficult. We created a dark, forbidding forest in the middle of the photography studio. The only time I'd ever seen a tree indoors was during the Christmas season. It was like that multiplied by a dozens.
August's was the worst. Mydrowning in tearsconcept meant we needed to flood an entire set with several feet of water. I felt bad whenever he shivered, cold and soaking wet. The water couldn't have been warm. He never uttered a word of complaint, though.
We brought in two models to pose with the guys. August and Noah's shoots were solo, but Cameron, Ian and Damon needed to work with a partner in a few of the photos for their concept.
Two gorgeous, leggy women were escorted in. I was immediately self conscious. Their waists were slim, their skin was flawless and their hair had not a strand out of place. I'd been working since six in the morning and my face felt greasy. My own hair had been thrown up in a frazzled bun at the nape of my neck. I felt, and probably looked, like a mess.
I consoled myself that at least I had bigger boobs than they did.
It was fascinating to watch the guys pose for photos, both with the models and by themselves. The photographer would give them directions like,August, gaze up at the ceiling as if life has no meaning.The crazy thing was, the guys could do it. The range of emotions they conveyed was impressive. Any one of them could have gone into acting.
I was most impressed with Noah's performance. I'd rarely seen him look anything other than vaguely pissed off. But when he was told to fall to his knees, slump against a tree, and stare into the camera as ifhe'd rather die than ever open his heart, his face completely changed. His eyes went wide and empty, his expression lost, hopeless.
Then the photographer would finish snapping dozens of photos, give him a satisfied nod, and Noah would go back to being disgruntled.
The last photoshoot for the day was Ian and Damon's. They were both posing with the same girl, one in front of her, the other behind. Damon was directed to glare at her and pretend he was gripping her arm tight, ready to fling her away. Ian was directed to curl his arm around her waist and place soft kisses to the back of her neck.
He was supposed topretendto kiss her neck, but as I stood behind the photographer and watched the shoot, I saw his lips touch her skin, mouth moving lightly across her jaw, neck, and shoulders.
A slow burn of jealous rage ignited inside me at the sight. My fists clenched at my side, shaking. My lips pressed together in a firm line. The longer the scene went on, the angrier I got. I wanted to look away, but I couldn't tear my eyes off the two of them. It was like watching a train wreck.
Finally, the camera shutter stopping clicking. The photoshoot was done. The model shook out her limbs and stretched. All three of them had been stuck in a similar pose for a while. Damon did the same, rubbing at his neck and groaning.
Ian immediately zeroed in on me. He must have seen the furrow of my brow, the tightness of my lips, my balled fists. He tilted his head and winked.
Jealous? he mouthed.
I whirled around with a huff, turning my back to him. I didn't want him to see me like that.
I stalked to the table with catered food and drinks. I contemplated stuffing my face with food, but remembered Ian's lips all over the thin, slender model. I decided against it. I wasn't hungry anyway.
Two interns brushed by me and filled up their paper plates, sticking to fruits and vegetables.
"Were you watching Noah's photoshoot?" one of them, a blonde girl, asked.
Her friend shook her auburn head. "No, I was too busy watching August." She sighed. "He's so gorgeous."
