I check in at security and give them my ID, and they print me off a badge, with my face on it. The security guard points me through the doors.
"Go ahead," he says. "Your escort will be there in a minute, but you can wait inside past that checkpoint."
A cool hipster guy with a hat collects me and whisks me off to hair and makeup where Kai is finishing off. He waves to me from the chair, and I look around the room. Bright lights around every mirror and three makeup girls are rushing around the room, trying to get everything done in time on the time that they've got.
He straightens up in the chair when she comes back.
"Three minutes," she says. "Come on. I think you're done."
He smiles at her through the mirror. "Don't let the match near my hair," he says, and she rolls her eyes.
"You don't want anything to move while you're up there, do you?"
With a shake of her head, she leaves us. And he gets up, stretching. I get a slight peek of a treasure trail of hair on his stomach. And I resist the urge to rake my fingers through it. God, I'm such a different person than I was a month ago.
He bends down and presses a warm kiss to my lips.
"I'm so glad you're here," he says.
"I've missed you the last few days," I admit.
He sighs and runs his hands down my back, fingers working into my muscles. I groan and close my eyes.
"Well, maybe we'll spend a little bit more time together," he says. "What do you think about taking a vacation, just you and me, leave these suckers behind?"
I know he's talking about Vince and Everett.
"That might be nice."
"One minute," the stage manager comes over, headset on and clipboard in sight. She looks like a menace and I don't want to get between her and the show.
"All right, all right," he says, lifting up his hands in surrender. "Let's do this thing."
I settle myself into a seat in the front row off to the side, checking my phone as technicians run back and forth on the stage.
"In five," someone holds up their hand and the audience goes quiet. The host pair, two women who look more shellacked than even poor Kai's hair is, smile into the camera, saying their quick greetings - Shelly and Porky. I've never even heard of them, but there are screams from the audience. And I guess they have a big fan base.
I look around in surprise. And the cool hipster guy who comes sits next to me shoots me a sly grin.
"Never recorded a taping?" he asks.
I shake my head. I didn't really have a TV. Netflix, but no cable.
"Right," he says. "You've had quite a stratospheric change in societal stature, huh?"
I frown and look at him. What does that mean? How does he even know who I am?
I catch Kai's name on Porky's lips as he is introduced, and the crowd jumps to their feet, screaming as he walks into the room waving. My attention is dragged away. He is so fucking hot. There's a reason he has a room full of screaming women. And he sits down, leaning forward his elbows on his knees.
"So, Kai," Shelly says, "we're so happy that you could take time out of your busy recording schedule to meet with us."
He shrugs. "It's no big deal. I'm always happy to spend time," he replies, casual as anything.
I notice that he's looking a little paler than he did a few minutes ago. And I'm wondering if he actually had the guts to wipe his makeup off in the back room. He didn't seem like the kind of guy who felt like his masculinity was threatened by a little makeup and hair product. But even still, the artists had been excessive.
They ask him the usual questions about how the recording is going, his new album, what he thinks is the secret to his breakout success.
"Rock hard abs," he says with a wink. That gets the crowd screaming again.