Fangs And Fame (13 page)

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Authors: Heather Jensen

BOOK: Fangs And Fame
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                            Chapter 21

 

 

Aurora

 

TREY GAVE ME A
cocky smile as he leaned back in the white chaise lounge, his lean, muscular frame stretched out before me. I took a step forward, lifting my foot up to rest one high heel on the leather next to him. He watched intently as I bent forward, slowly sweeping the bristles of the long paint brush I was holding down the skin of his exposed chest, leaving a thick trail of paint that matched the color of the blue guitar propped up nearby.


Perfect,” the photographer called out from behind the giant lens he was shooting us with. “Tip the angle of the palette you’re holding a little toward me, Aurora,” he directed. I did as he asked, trying to incorporate everything he’d asked me to do for this pose, all while forcing myself to breathe for appearances sake.

Hey
, Trey called to me in my thoughts. My eyes locked with his.
Keep your eyes right here
, he encouraged.

That
’s the easy part
, I thought back, giving him a coy smile. And it was.

Forget about them
, he added.
Guitars and painting is kind of our thing. It’s just you and me
. He turned it up a notch just then, and the smoldering intensity in his gaze made it easier to pretend we were the only ones in the room. One by one, all the people behind the scenes who were scrutinizing our every move disappeared, including the photographer and the incessant clicking of his camera.

I love this dress on you
, Trey thought. I felt the heat of his gaze as he looked me up and down.
I wonder if they’d let you keep it
. The dress he spoke of was black chiffon, running to the floor and parting where a single slit ran up my left leg.
Do you remember the last time you smeared paint all over me?
he silently added. I hadn’t forgotten. I pulled the memory of Trey’s first painting lesson to the surface easily enough and projected it back to him. I hadn’t known it at the time, but that was the night everything would change. The power Trey’s kiss held over me had been new, exciting, and confusing all at once. I bit my lip at the thought of it, at how those things still hadn’t changed.


We got the shot,” the photographer called out, pulling my focus back from the memory. Trey blinked a few times to clear his head, and I straightened, putting both feet on the ground. “Someone get Trey a towel to wash that paint off with,” the photographer said to a group of his assistants nearby. Then he turned his attention back to Trey and I. “Great work, you two,” he said. “Let’s get you back into hair and makeup, and I’ll have the crew set up for the next shot.”

I handed the paintbrush and palette I
’d been holding to the first person who approached me while Trey wiped the blue paint from his chest.


Can I get you anything to drink?” one of the assistants asked Trey.


No, thank you,” he said, silently adding, I doubt you have what I’m craving. I smiled at his internal dialogue and also politely turned down the offer.

We were whisked away to change our clothes and I spent only a few minutes in the hair and makeup chair having a touch-up. I was relieved to find that I would be allowed to don a simple white tank top and some designer jeans for the next shot. The heels were even taller than the last pair, but I loved the metal studs on them. The setup for this shot was very true to life, which I hoped meant it would be easy. The photographer hung a lanyard with a backstage pass around my neck and directed me to stand in front of an easel that held a blank canvas. Everything around me was designed to look like a typical backstage lounge at a venue. There was a couch, a coffee table, and a huge flat screen TV on the wall.

“We’ll digitally add Trey to that TV screen for the final print,” the photographer explained as he handed me a paintbrush. “Our readers are really intrigued by your story and how you spend your time on the road supporting Trey, and still manage to create pieces of art. All you have to do is appear to be painting backstage while Trey is performing.”


Easy enough,” I replied. It was a little tricky figuring out how to stand so that it looked like I was focused on the canvas, but not hiding behind it. After a few shots, the director asked one of his assistants to come and add some paint to my white tank top to make it all a little messier. “I could have done that,” I said with a grin as a woman in her early thirties strategically added a little smear of paint to my cheek and one arm just below the shoulder. “I never paint without making a mess.”


Got it,” she said, stepping back to admire me. “You just stand there and look beautiful.”


Much better,” the photographer called out as he stepped closer and began shooting again. “Lift your chin a little. Perfect.”

I felt Trey
’s presence when he entered the room, finding a place to watch from the back. I bit my lip and painted the word Catalyst horizontally across the canvas just to give myself something to do while the lights flashed.


The camera loves you.” The photographer paused long enough to study the screen on the back of his camera briefly before announcing that I was finished. Trey was leaning against the wall, hands in his pockets, grinning like a handsome idiot, when I approached.


What are you looking so snide about?” I asked while assistants scurried around nearby, hauling props away. He was looking good in a dark gray button-up shirt and jeans.


Nothing,” he said, straightening. I raised an accusing eyebrow at him and he shrugged. “It’s just that I bet you never thought you’d be doing a photo shoot for
Rolling Stone
,” he stated. “A few months ago you were nervous about walking the red carpet at the VMA’s with me. Now ... well, look at you.”


Yeah, well, I guess it’s the price I pay for being with my rock star husband.”


You’ve always been a rock star in your own right,” he said, taking my hand in his. “Now the rest of the world might just get a glimpse of what I see in you.”


I’d kiss you right now, but I’m pretty sure lipstick on your face isn’t part of the plan for your next photo.”


I don’t know,” he said, his voice lined with that rough edge that drives me crazy. “A kiss would be worth another round in the makeup chair.”


Over here guys,” someone called from behind, and I glanced over my shoulder to see the photographer waving us over.

Trey waved back in acknowledgement and frowned at me.
“Rain check?”

I nodded and walked with him to the next room where a mock stage had been created, or at least the lighting of one.

“You’re up,” the photographer told him.

I found a spot to stand behind the monitor where the images would appear as the camera captured them. Trey strapped on Liza and stepped up to the mic that was strategically placed on a stand for him.

“I know this isn’t your first rodeo,” the photographer said to him. “We’re going to use the lights behind you to emulate a live show effect. Remember to stay off the mic enough that we can see your face. Other than that, just be natural.”


I can do that,” Trey said, raising and dropping his shoulders a few times to loosen up. “But I’m going to need some tunes.”


Got it,” an assistant to my right responded with impressive speed for a human. She pulled out her phone and attached a pair of speakers to it.


Just give me something with a guitar and a great beat,” Trey said to her.

The girl frantically scrolled through her music, silently debating about whether or not to play Trey some of his own music before saying,
“I have some Jimmy Eat World?” She phrased it as a question, hesitantly awaiting Trey’s response.


Crank it up,” he said, giving her a victorious smile that made her heart shift gears. He bobbed his head slightly with the beat as the music blasted, and then it was all business as he pulled his guitar to the left and tipped the mic stand forward, leaning toward the camera and singing along. I shook my head, grinning as he practically oozed charm all over the fake stage. The photographer snapped away, not wanting to miss a single beat of Trey’s performance. I glanced around, seeing how impressed the rest of the crew was as the lights flashed. I’d seen Trey do a magazine shoot before, but it was easier to appreciate just how simple he made it seem now that I’d been on that side of the camera myself. I knew that being a vampire gave me a certain kind of grace and magnetism that people were drawn to, but Trey had never needed it to command the attention of everyone around him. Armed only with his favorite guitar, he churned out an alarmingly high number of useable shots in a variety of poses during the duration of the song.

When the last note rang out the photographer stood up from the crouching position he
’d taken and said, “Can’t ask for more than that.” Trey slid the guitar to his back and came around to where I stood to get a better look at the monitor. “We definitely got the shot,” the photographer assured Trey as we glanced through the stills quickly. Trey nodded, apparently satisfied.


That’s a wrap, people!” the photographer announced, and he led everyone in a round of applause for Trey and I before shaking Trey’s hand and kissing my cheek.


Thanks everyone,” Trey said, and I echoed the sentiment. We changed our clothes and then took our time leaving so Trey could sign a few autographs and take a few pictures with some of the assistants. For at least three of them, it clearly made their day. “That wasn’t so bad now, was it?” Trey asked me as we climbed into the waiting car outside.


You make it look easy,” I told him.


Today was easy,” he stated. “Taking pictures with my smoking hot wife isn’t exactly what I’d call a grueling day at work.”

I smiled, and he touched my cheek softly, forcing me to meet his eyes.
“I’ll take that kiss now,” he said. Without hesitating, his lips came down on mine, bringing with them a flurry of emotions. I did the equivalent of mentally taking a deep breath, letting go completely as his emotions spun around inside of me. He was still coming down from the adrenaline of his last shoot. I even caught pieces of the lyrics from the song still swirling around in his thoughts if I listened. He smelled amazing, and he tasted even better. His fingers were in my hair, and I found myself gripping the collar of his leather jacket to anchor myself to him during the rush.


Where are we headed?” the driver of the car asked us, somehow managing to keep a straight face after glancing at the backseat.

Trey and I pulled apart briefly and he gazed at me, searching for the answer.

“Whatever hotel we’re staying at tonight,” I stated. Trey’s grin was completely genuine as I leaned into him again and kissed his mouth.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

                                          Chapter 22

 

Trey

 

I NOTICED HER DURING the opening number. She was in the front row to my left, and despite having instantly recognized her, I had to double and triple check that it was really her. I’d fed from Jes just nights ago, but here she was standing in the front row singing every word of “Midnight Poison” back at me. I was definitely still new to the whole vamp gig, but I was pretty sure the aversion wasn’t supposed to work like that. Still, she seemed genuinely interested in the show. In me. All these thoughts ran through my mind in the space of a few seconds, but as I finished the song I realized I really needed to know. Thanks to Jes, the front row was going to get a very up-close and personal show from me tonight.

I took care to make it seem random, but my interaction with the fans just off the stage was anything but accidental. I touched hands, made and held eye contact for several lines of a song at a time, and even held my mic out for the fans to sing in my place on and off during the show. None of this was new to my performance, but I turned it up several notches. When I reached out and took Jes
’s hand, I genuinely expected her to flinch, or at least grow uncomfortable and pull away. She did just the opposite, beaming up at me while I sang a line from “Making Waves.” Jes’s reaction, or lack of bad reaction, completely floored me. I wished I had shown Aurora her face in my head when I’d told her about feeding from her. That way she could be floored by this entire situation right along with me. I did the only thing I could think of to really put Jes to the test.


This is the part of the show where we slow it down for a bit,” I said into the mic after the song had ended. “Do you guys mind if we do a few acoustic songs for you?”

The crowd responded enthusiastically, shouting and whistling their approval.

O’Shea, Jonas and I switched out our guitars and took our seats on stools that were brought out near the edge of the stage. Chase climbed out of his drum cage and joined us, only he stood behind a pair of large wooden Congas. I loved jumping around and shredding on stage as much as the next guy, but I always felt like something special happened during these acoustic numbers. The fans quieted, except for their echoing chorus of the lyrics, and cell phones lit up the sea of people in a way that often reminds me of coral reefs glowing in the dark off the coast somewhere. The giant screens that made up the backdrop of our stage showed video clips and images to enhance the mood. During “Mirage” the screens shows pictures of me and the guys when we were in high school. There were shots of us surfing, having bonfires, skateboarding, and going to Football games that Chase played in. The fans reactions to the pictures were always entertaining to watch. I think they liked seeing that we’d been their age once, and we’d done normal teenage stuff, too. The pictures that filled the screens during “Save The Heroics,” a track from our sophomore record, were just as epic. They were pictures the fans from each city could submit to the Fan Club online to be played during the song. Some of the shots were of fans posing with us, and some were of them holding the new album, while still others were shots of
Until Sanity
parties that had been thrown all over the country on the night we’d released the album.

Jonas always prefaced the song by asking the crowd who had sent in pictures to appear on the screen that night. The response was near deafening on most nights.
“This is your part of the show,” he would add. “Without you guys, we wouldn’t be making music and doing what we love. This one’s for you.”

The last song of the acoustic set was
“Random Words” from the new record. I saw my chance and got to my feet before we started the song.


I want to try something a little different tonight,” I said. “Do you guys mind?” I glanced around at O’Shea, Chase and Jonas, who had no idea what I was planning, but nodded or shrugged in agreement, going along with me. I handed my guitar to O’Shea to hold for me, and I walked to the edge of the stage and hopped off. I was standing right in front of Jes. The look on her face was priceless as I offered her my hand. I’d seen that excitement in her eyes not long ago, but that time I’d been deceiving her. I leaned in so I could talk to her without the microphone.


Do you want to come up with me?” I asked. She nodded eagerly, and a guy working venue security moved the barrier so she could come through it. I hopped back up onto the stage and offered her my hand again to steady her while the security guy gave her a boost up. “Can we get another stool out here?” I asked into my microphone, looking to the side of the stage at the crew. Neon was grinning and shaking his head at me when someone produced a stool and set it up on the end next to mine. Jes’s grip on my hand was tight, almost like she was afraid if she let go she might magically disappear. I put my arm around her shoulders and she leaned into my embrace.


Everyone,” I said into the mic, “Say hi to Jes.” The crowd clapped and shouted, but in a controlled way that let me know they were just waiting to see what would happen next. Jes waved at the crowd, which at that point had to seem pretty intimidating. “If I’ve got the math right, then tonight is your fifth show on the tour?” I asked her. She nodded.


Thanks for that,” Chase added, and Jes and I turned to face the guys.


You’ve got the set memorized, then,” O’Shea said with a laugh.


Well, I didn’t see this coming,” Jes said into my mic, making everyone laugh.


I met Jes a few shows back, and I just thought that her dedication shouldn’t go unrewarded. What I didn’t say was that feeding from Jes had been eating away at my conscious ever since, and on top of testing out her weird lack of aversion to me, maybe I could ease my own guilt by actually doing something nice for her tonight. “Have a seat,” I said to her as I led her over to the fifth stool. She took a seat, and I got comfortable next to her. “Can we play you a song?”

She nodded again, and I took my guitar from O
’Shea and tested out the strings one at a time, checking the tuning. When I was ready I nodded to Chase and he counted us off on his Congas. We played “Random Words,” another song from the new album. I poured my heart out to Jes while I sang the words, watching her for signs of an aversion I knew wouldn’t come. She smiled, occasionally mouthing the words along with me. She tapped her foot on the floor, grinning in astonishment as she glanced out at the audience on occasion. When the song ended I asked the audience to give her a big hand, and they all cheered with only mildly less enthusiasm than usual. Jes went down the line, giving O’Shea, Jonas and Chase hugs and thanking them. I walked her over to the edge of the stage and gave her one last hug, earning a kiss on the cheek from her before she hopped back down off the stage, returning to her spot in the front row. I’d put her to the test, all right, but she’d held firm in her adoration. I didn’t quite dare to be relieved by her reaction just yet, but something a lot like redemption was taking residence in my core. The guys and I ditched the stools and the acoustic instruments and finished out the last two songs of regular set before heading backstage to get ugly.


I think that girl is in love with you,” Aurora said to me, a teasing smile playing on her lips as she started applying grey makeup to my face. “That was really sweet of you to pull her on stage like that. You totally made her night.”

My response was a silent one, only for her.
I fed from that girl a few nights back.

Aurora paused, makeup sponge in mid-air
, as she studied my face.
You’re certain it was her?

I
’m sure. I brought her backstage and everything. It’s her.

But she didn
’t-
Aurora’s train of thought trailed off as she realized what I was getting at.

I nodded.
Exactly.

How can that be?

I shrugged.
You tell me.

Aurora had been watching the show backstage. She
’d seen it all, the hand holding, the hugging, the kiss on the cheek, the adoring glances.
That’s why you brought her on stage....

I had to find out. Have you ever heard of this happening?

No,
she thought back as she began applying makeup to my face again.
But most vampires don’t have the same relationship with the human population that you do. It’s hard to make a real comparison.

Huh....
I didn’t know what to think.

Maybe it has something to do with your moon-given talent
, she offered.

Now that was something I hadn
’t considered.
Do you really think that could be it?

After what I just saw, I wouldn
’t rule it out.

I hope you
’re’ right
, I thought.
I’d take that as a moon-given talent any day.
I knew one thing for sure. I’d feel better about feeding from the occasional fan if I knew I wasn’t turning them away from the band. Maybe then it wouldn’t feel like I was betraying the fans and my brothers at the same time.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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