Accidental Rock Star (17 page)

She wanted to lift them
and see his green eyes. She loved the color when he got
mischievous.

Tyler led them down
concrete steps and soda sloshed over her fingers as she stretched
to keep to his pace. He slowed down, matching her.

“Rain Spin are killer.”
Ethan had already shrugged off his movie T-shirt in favor of the
band’s black logo T-shirt. His old shirt hung from his back
pocket.

Aria had picked the
blue T-shirt with the rain-splatter artwork. “Yeah, love them.”

Tyler’s hand tightened
on hers. “Love me more?” His tone held confidence, a pout and a
command.

Shiver. Did he mean
that? Was he playing? “Maybe. While you’re here.”

She squealed as he
lifted her up and over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry down the
remaining steps to the front row. She’d lost half her soda, but
man, he was fun.

Tyler slowly set Aria
on her feet, taking his time letting her body slide down his. She
righted her shirt over her jeans and shook her mostly empty cup at
Tyler.

He grinned. “I’ll get
you a new soda.”

“Bud.” Dylan looked at
the stage, his jaw open. “How’d you score these seats?” Dylan
finished his own question with a flush. “Oh. Yeah. Forgot.” He
turned toward the stage.

Tyler punched Dylan’s
shoulder in that guy-friend way. “That’s why you suck, Dylan.”

Dylan grinned, and his
shoulders relaxed.

“Not me.” Ethan bounced
in place. “I didn’t forget any of it. And this rocks.”

Tyler repeated the
punch. “That’s why
you
suck, Ethan.”

Ethan grinned.

The opening act came
on, blaring out a rock song that had just taken off on the radio.
They got the crowd going.

Tyler nodded. “Good
mix. They’re gonna hit.”

The next band picked up
the pace. Tyler watched intently, totally into the show, but he
periodically touched her arm, or clasped her hand, or dropped his
arm around her waist, making sure she knew he was with her the
whole time.

By 8:00 p.m., the full
crowd was there, and the audience was primed to a heightened level
of anticipation. The stage lights dropped black and then blasted on
with strobe lights revealing the headliners, Rain Spin.

“These guys rock,”
Tyler said.

Rain Spin kicked off
with a kick-ass, hard bass line. The hit had the crowd singing
louder than the lead. They slowed it down after that, but never let
up the intensity, keeping the crowd amped until the last number and
the lights rose.

Tyler inclined his head
toward the restrooms off to the side of the outdoor arena. “Be
right back.”

“You’re gonna miss the
encores,” Ethan said.

Dylan rolled his eyes.
“Like he wants to wait in the line after the concert.”

A guy wait in line?
Right. He’d go in the woods on the way to the car.

Tyler gave her a quick
kiss. “See you in a sec.”

The guys made retching
noises, and Tyler strode off.

After ten minutes of
the crowd clapping, chanting “Rain Spin,” and waving their cell
phones in the air, Rain Spin’s lead singer came back on stage and
took the mic. The rest of the band took their spots. The singer
acknowledged each member while the fans cheered. Aria looked back
toward the exit. No Tyler.

The lead singer said,
“A friend of mine’s in town so I asked him to join us for a
number.”

The audience screamed.
Basically the guy could say, ‘Look, a clear plastic cup,’ and
they’d shriek like he’d invited them to ride in his limo.

The lights went out
again and the big screens on either side of the stage lit up.
Sax
flashed across the screen. Her heart flashed with
it.

Ethan pointed like she
hadn’t seen it.

Half the audience
pointed. Most of the audience screamed. Girls squealed like they
were trying to shatter glass. Aria clutched Dylan’s arm, but she
didn’t take her gaze from the big screen.

“I don’t know what he’s
doing,” Dylan said, as if she’d asked a question. Maybe she
had.

An enormous picture of
Sax appeared. Feet braced apart. Both hands around a microphone
pole. Overlong black hair, messy and in his face. Pierced eyebrow.
The photo was black-and-white except his eyes. Electric blue.

The strains of his
number one song began.

The audience screamed
even louder.

Aria’s heart rate
matched the tempo.
What the hell?

The stage stayed dark,
but the sound of Sax’s voice came through the speakers. “Hello,
Texas.”

Oh, God.

More screams.

“Rain Spin said it’d be
okay if I sang a song or two for you.”

Howls.

The music picked up in
tempo.

“I’m visiting some
friends in Texas.”

Shrieks.

“So of course, I had to
get a haircut. Ditched my contacts, too. And I bought some new
boots.”

More squeals. These
sounded desperate. The brilliance of the move hit her. With the
stage dark, he’d created mystery, drama, and a desperation to see
his new look.

The lights flashed on
and the music rushed forward.
Sax Grayson.

Her ears buzzed from
the screaming.

And he sang. He sang
with skill and enthusiasm, perfect vocals and charisma. He wasn’t
Tyler. He was Sax. And he controlled the crowd from his first line
to his last. The audience was enthralled and she was right there
with them. When the last note died off, he shook hands with
everyone in Rain Spin. “Thanks, guys.” He returned the microphone
to the mic pole and leaned into it. “Can you stand one more?”

The audience
screamed.

Four security guards
moved into the aisle by their row and motioned for them to come
out. The one in front pointed along the aisle running in front of
the stage. “This way, you three. We gotta move.”

“Why?” Dylan said.

The guards didn’t
answer, just motioned for them to scoot out in front of him, so
they did. One of the guards took the lead. They walked between the
stage and a row of fans who stared at them as if wondering who they
were. The guard held out a blocking arm as several girls tried to
jump in with them. “These three only.”

Ethan bounced and
punched Dylan’s shoulder. “We get to go backstage.”

They were probably
meeting Tyler out by the car. The security guard led them to a gate
at the side, flashed his badge, and waved them up a set of steps
draped in black. Stairs that led to the wings. They were
backstage.

Backstage was a blur.
Two ladies rushed over to them. One got in front of her. “I’ve got
her.” She took Aria’s arm. “Hurry.” She led Aria to a tray of
makeup on top of a rolling cart. She brushed Aria’s hair, powdered
her face, added blusher, eyeliner, and red lipstick.

It was a fast,
unrequested makeover. The lady pulled out scissors.

Aria held up her hand.
“No. No haircut. Thanks.”

The lady laughed. “Your
hair’s gorg. It can stay.” She snipped the bottom of her T-shirt
and ripped, tearing it into a crop top.

What the hell? Aria
wanted to swipe at her hands, but she didn’t want to lose a finger.
“Back off, lady.”

The lady ignored her
and motioned at a guy dressed in black who was wearing a headset
mic. “This one’s good to go.”

The guy prodded her
toward Dylan and Ethan. They looked different. Edgy. Their hair had
been sprayed, styled, and they wore eyeliner. Aria’s mouth dropped
open.

The lady who’d styled
her rushed past and up to Dylan. “Drummer?”

He nodded and she
reached up to snip his sleeves off, leaving his arms bare. He let
her.

She looked at Ethan,
who bent his knees and tilted his shoulder toward her, ready for
her to take his sleeves off. She eyed his Rain Spin T-shirt.
“You’re good.”

“I’m good,” Ethan
said.

A sweaty, hard-looking,
tattooed guy appeared in front of her. Aria was about to demand
they make more sense out of their weirdness or at least get out of
the way so they could watch the end of the show. The guy put a
guitar strap over her head. “You’re wired into the amps.” He shoved
a smooth black guitar pick into her fingers. He patted the bass
guitar. “You don’t have to be gentle with her. She can take
it.”

Rain Spin’s bass
guitarist. OMG. Megan is going to die. He’s her favorite.

With that, he left
Aria. Two women in black ran to his side. One handed him a towel he
draped over his neck. One handed him a beer.

The headset guy made a
shooing motion. “You’re on.”

Ethan bounced. “Tyler’s
sending us out in style. He got When Worlds Appear a massive
kick-ass last gig.”

OMG.

She followed them on
stage and they fell into position like in rehearsal. But this was
nothing like rehearsal. Thousands of screaming fans were ten feet
away.

“
Dark Sky
,”
Tyler shouted.

She stared at him
because there was no way she could look out at the screaming
fans.

Cynical, untrusting
Dylan dove in first. He clicked his drumsticks together, tapping
out a countdown.
Click. Click. Click.
The clicks kicked them
all into motion.

The instruments were
amazing. The acoustics incredible. The notes blended and boomed
into the air, pure, solid. OMG.

They sounded like pros.
Tyler controlled the stage, the lyrics. He played a little, but not
as much as he did at Ethan’s. And when he got to the chorus, he
came over and looked into her eyes. Green eyes. Perfect pitch.
Tyler.

He got closer, moving
the mic between them, nodding at her, and she added her voice to
his, singing to him. The lyrics blended into something more. Aria
finished the line. Tyler eased back, grinning widely at her, and
sang the final star-shattering notes.

Aria looked out.

The faces staring back
at the stage were shiny, glowing, beaming energy and enthusiasm at
Tyler. They screamed, hands in the air. Some clapping, some shaking
neon glow sticks, some holding up lit cell phones.

The moment was
amazing.

“Thanks, Texas!” Tyler
shouted.

Screams.

Tyler bounded over,
took the guitar strap off her head, and handed the guitar to a guy
behind her. “We gotta give the stage back.” He leaned down and
kissed her.

The rush of sensation
went from her mouth to her toes and spread. His kiss rocked every
part of her body.

Envious screams tore
through the stadium.

Tyler wrapped one arm
around her bare waist and threw the other out to the audience. “My
girlfriend,” he said into the mic and handed it off.

The screams were
ridiculous. No wonder the place used plastic cups. If they used
crystal, it would be shattered.

Tyler turned her, his
hand flat on her stomach. With his free one, he waved at the crowd
as they left the stage.

A bottle of water was
pressed at her, the same with the guys. A guy in black was talking
fast to Tyler. “The label wants you to call. They’ve booked studio
time and want to fly you in tonight.”

Tyler shook his head.
He waved the guy off and looked at Aria. “That’s not happening,” he
reassured her before she had time to freak out about him
leaving.

They moved further into
the blackness of backstage.

“Where are we going?”
Ethan asked, trailing them with Dylan.

Rain Spin kicked on one
of their older hits and the audience’s singing carried through to
the back.

“We’re going to miss
the encores,” Ethan said.

“We’ve got to take you
out back,” a security guard said. “You’re not going to make it
through that crowd.”

They emerged through
two industrial-sized doors and went down six steps to a
curtained-off outdoor area. A black stretch limousine waited for
them, a uniform-wearing chauffeur holding open the door. They
crawled inside, following Tyler like this made sense.

The car rolled into
motion. Dylan hit the minibar. Tyler tossed his arms out across the
seatback looking like he belonged there.

Ethan repeated
everything they’d just done, like a post-game re-capper.

“Bud, I was so off on
that first break. But then, we had it.” Ethan held out his fist for
Tyler to bump. “Thanks for the gig, bud.”

“
Fucking A.”
Dylan passed a beer to Tyler. “We went out with
style.”
He
offered one to Aria and Ethan, but they shook him off. She was too
high on the moment to want to tamp it down.

Ethan opened the moon
roof, letting the stars in.

Aria leaned her head
back on Tyler’s arm and turned her face toward him. “What happens
now?”

“Yeah.” Ethan popped
back down from peering out the moon roof. “I thought you had to be
like all incognito and shit.”

“That’s blown,” Dylan
said.

“I got notice before
the show that Gina’s been caught. No more hiding. I contacted the
label and they set up the gig.”

“
Are
you
leaving?” Aria’s voice came out quiet, her mood bouncing between
the high of tonight and confusion about how this would all play
out.

“I’m going to finish
the semester here, then go back. I’ll have regular security and
shit, but I don’t have to hide. Not like before.”

“That sounds… not very
realistic.”

“You and your
realistic.”

Aria knew he was
talking about her giving up music, without him having to say it.
She didn’t try to defend it. For him. With his voice and star
power, he was the exception. For the rest of the world a solid
career was a better goal.

“I know who you are,
Aria. You’re music. We’re music.”

He got her. Aria slid
her hand into his but didn’t answer. Tyler entwined his fingers
with hers and they let Ethan and Dylan carry the conversation,
which was basically another replay of everything they had seen from
their angle on stage.