A few hours later, the guys were on the stage for soundcheck, and I was finding it so hard to do my job and not just enjoy the show. I was and always had been a Tin Gods superfan. The guys were so damn talented. And it didn’t hurt that they were—aside from my brother—so yummy to look at.
If only I hadn’t been relegated to the little sister category. Friend zoned forever right here.
Shaking my head, I lifted my camera and took some photos of the guys running through their soundcheck. Some closeups of Chase singing, some wide photos showing the band in the immense and currently empty stadium. Noah wailing on his drums. Xander with his eyes closed and that intense expression on his face as he played his guitar. And of course more pictures of Jesse playing his bass guitar and moving around the stage than I probably should’ve taken.
“Which one are you with?”
I jumped at the voice. Dropping my camera to my side, I took in the woman standing on my right, and only about three inches away. Skintight jeans and a ripped tee, slim body, perfect little elfin features, and a barely-there application of eyeliner and gloss that only highlighted her beauty.
“Uh, none of them. I’m the band’s photographer.”
Her husky laughter came through despite Chase wailing the lyrics to ‘Torn Up Heart.’ “Aw, sweetie. I wasn’t born yesterday. Kiefer Brash has been the band’s photographer for years. And he’s over there.” She tipped her head toward the other side of the stadium where Kiefer was snapping his own pictures. Then she reached toward me and ran a long fingernail over the lanyard attached to my official all access crew pass. “But they don’t hand these out to just anyone. So, really, which one are you fucking?”
All my interest at making a new friend drained away at the naked hostility in her voice. I blinked a few times, then shook my head. “I’m the band’s social media photographer. I’ve been hired for the Corruption Tour. It’s my first day.”
I don’t know why I added that last part. But I knew the one thing I wasn’t going to admit to this harpy was that I was Chase’s little sister. I could tell it wouldn’t buy me any brownie points with Miss Tiny, Dark, and Hostile.
She smirked. “That’s literally never been a position on the tour. And I should know. This is my fourth time around with the boys.”
Innuendo was ripe in her tone. Like the tour wasn’t the only way she’d been around with “the boys.”
Barf.
“Well it’s my job, and I should get back to it.”
Ms. Hostile didn’t say another word, but her expression said it all.
I turned away and walked down to the front to get some closeups of the guys from the pit. Anything to get away from all that attitude.
The guys continued to play, pausing now and then to fine tune something at the engineer’s request. Another time because Xander’s in-ear monitor was acting up. The whole experience was new to me. I’d been to plenty of the guys’ concerts before, but I’d never seen the behind-the-scenes work that went into the shows.
Only now my wonder was marred by the ugly reminder of the kind of women I was surrounded by. And the hostility would only increase when they realized how close I really was with the guys. Yay.
I’d been through it time and again, so I should be used to it.
I tried to shake off my funk as I continued to snap pictures, but now all I could do was wonder which of the guys had been with her. And that was not a place I wanted to let my mind wander. Better to think of light and contrast and composition. It wasn’t a coincidence that the second half of my set of photos sucked. I was too in my head. It was better when I just turned shit off and snapped. My instincts were better than my over-analysis.
Something Harper didn’t have a problem pointing out when I met up with her later. As Wes’s assistant and a fan of the band, she was very familiar with the band’s social media pages.
“This one is good. I love the way you captured the guys’ emotion and showed the fact that the stadium is currently empty. It’ll be a great post to tease the tour. But what happened after that? All these other pictures are…”
“Crap?” I tossed out when it became clear she was struggling with a nice word to use.
She bit her lip and nodded slightly.
“I kinda got into it with some brunette chick in the stands. She wanted to know who in the band I was screwing, and then let it be known that she’d already peed in a circle around all four of them.”
“Ah, sounds like you met Rowan.”
I blinked. I hadn’t even given her that great of a description of this chick. “How the heck did you figure that out? And who is she, by the way? I’ve never met her, so she can’t be that serious with any of the guys.”
“Rowan is more of a love the one you’re with kinda girl. She’s on the tour as a stylist for the guys—wardrobe, occasionally helps with guyliner, and anything else the guys ask, if you get my drift.”
“Wow. I, uh, never thought…” I wasn’t even sure I wanted to finish that sentence. I didn’t want to be one to slut shame. If Rowan was happy with her situation, more power to her. I did not, however, appreciate all her judgement about me and my job.
“Yeah, some of the guys ignore that whole don’t shit where you eat axiom. But then again, I guess rules don’t really apply when you’re a rock star.”
There was so much I wanted to unpack about what Harper had just said, but I didn’t know her well enough to pry. Did she have a crush on one of the guys in the past? Had she had a fling with one that maybe didn’t end well? It wasn’t any of my business. Plus, I couldn’t ask in the off chance my brother’s name came up.
The last thing I wanted to hear about was someone fawning all over him. I’d had more than my share of it in high school, and that shit should’ve ended since he’d found his happily ever after with Shay. The fawning hadn’t ended, but at least Shay wasn’t so graphic with her praise.
“So yeah, Rowan can be a little prickly at first. Maybe steer clear if you can. Anyway, back to the pictures, I think you should post this one after working up a little caption for it.”
We brainstormed a little blurb about the Corruption Tour kicking off in LA, then Harper helped me post it all over social media with some variations depending on the platform.
“Tyler probably went through it with you, but he’ll want video as well as photos of the concert tonight, particularly backstage both before and after. And I’m sure you know the kinds of things they don’t need photographic evidence of.”
She paused and gave me a searing look, like I didn’t know the crazy shit the guys got up to. I just nodded my reply.
“Great. I’ll leave it all in your capable hands. Here’s the laptop. All the passwords are saved. Just send me a text if you run into any problems.”
“Wait, what? You’re giving me a laptop? I thought this was yours. Where are you going?”
“Nah, Tyler sent the laptop for you. I just accepted delivery and set it up for you since I had a minute. I have other things to take care of now that you’ve taken this off my hands. And day after tomorrow, I’m flying ahead to Vegas to take care of any last-minute logistics.”
“So you won’t be on the road with us? At all?”
“Nope. No bus life for me. I’ll be around for maybe the first show then flying to the next stop ahead of you guys.”
I nodded slowly. Between Shay’s restaurant schedule stajing at different restaurants around the country while we were on tour and Harper’s flight schedule, the two people I’d clicked with were leaving me high and dry. Alone with the boys and their legions of fangirls.
Awesome.
The jitter factor was high as the crowd heaved backstage. I’d been backstage plenty before, but the energy this time was so heightened. Most likely due to my own nerves.
I wanted this job to be the one. I loved taking pictures. But could I really make a career of it? Judging by the hostile looks from Kiefer and Rowan when I ran into each of them, they believed that I didn’t deserve to be here.
I was determined to prove them wrong.
“Ella!” Chase yelled as he bumped into my shoulder as I lingered on the edge of the greenroom. “Where the hell have you been?”
“Working.” I held up my camera and gave my brother a what-the-hell look. “Remember? During soundcheck I was the one clicking away in the stands?”
“I meant after that. Shay and I were hoping to take you out to an early dinner to celebrate your new job. I texted you, Shay texted you, and no one could find you.”
Right. That would’ve been when I was wandering around the event center and having an existential crisis about my life. Something I definitely wasn’t mentioning to my overprotective brother. But my expression must’ve given me away because Chase immediately went on the defensive.
“What happened? Whose ass do I need to kick?”
“Oh my god, Chase. You gotta lay off. Treat me like a normal employee and not your sister. Please.”
“Yeah, I don’t know how to do that. It’s literally been my job your whole life to look out for you. Just ask Mom.”
“Where is she, by the way?” I dropped the fight I knew I’d never win and swung my gaze around the bustling, packed room. “She’s usually here on kickoff night.”
I should know; she’d dragged me along enough times.
“She’s coming to the last concert this round. She said something about handing over the reins to Shay. Whatever that means.”
I knew exactly what she meant. Mom always tried to have a big presence during Chase’s LA concerts to remind him to behave. Not that it ever really worked. I had more than a few traumatic memories of walking in on my brother embarrassing the family name. And an equal number of memories of our mom kicking his ass in concert venues. Metaphorically speaking of course—no literal asses were kicked. Although that probably would’ve been less painful.
I shook my head and tried to stay in the present, despite how much I loved remembering my mom yelling at my brother. Good times. “Where is Shay? I haven’t seen her.”
“Looking for you, probably.” Chase craned his neck as he looked around the greenroom for his missing wife. I knew it had to’ve been killing him not to have his wife at his side. They’d been practically attached at the hip from day one. This tour was going to be so hard on him.
“Ella!” Shay hollered just before I was enveloped in a whirling mass of hair and arms. “I’ve looked for you everywhere! Why didn’t you answer your phone?”
I laughed as I leaned into my bestie’s hug.
But then I caught a glimpse of Kiefer’s sneer on the other side of the room, and I remembered I was supposed to be working. That this was a job, and not a family reunion. Hell, I lived with Shay and Chase; it wasn’t like it’d been a while since I’d seen them.
Stepping back, I lifted my camera as my explanation. “I took some photos of Xander skateboarding backstage after soundcheck. Thought they might look good on social media later.”
Which was all true. I just failed to mention my whole existential crisis bit.
“All right!” Xander shouted as he jumped atop of the bar. “It’s time for the band’s traditional shot. Everyone grab a drink.”
I waved Shay off as she tried to hand me a drink, and I lifted my camera again. “I’m on the clock.”
“It’s tradition.” Chase overruled me and shoved a shot in my hand.
Looking around, I could see he was right. Everyone around me—band members, roadies, crew, media, celebrities—all had a drink in their hands. Even Kiefer. So I took the shot.
As drinks filtered through the crowd, I noticed the opening act, Exempty, having an argument of some kind. The longhaired guy gestured wildly at the bearded guy who full on shoved Longhair. Longhair went back a step, then charged and swung on Beardy.
Shouts went up and others waded in to separate them.
Chase sighed heavily next to me. “What’s the odds of them pulling their shit together before the show?”
“With your guys’ track record with opening acts?” I snorted. “Unlikely.”
“Fuck,” Chase muttered as Longhair staggered by shirtless, holding his wadded up t-shirt against his heavily bleeding nose.
“Hundred bucks says one of them swings on the other onstage tonight.” I held my hand out for Chase to shake on it.
“Yeah, I’m not taking that bet,” he said, laughing cynically. “Come on. Let’s go huddle up.”
We all pressed closer to the bar until Chase stood next to Jesse and Noah. They exchanged fist bumps and gave Shay and I nods.
“All right!” Xander hollered again. “Everyone got a drink? Good! So this is our little preshow ritual. Before every show, one of the four of us sponsors the kickoff shot. I drew the short straw tonight. Thanks to Wes Tippman our tour manager, Tyler Worthington our manager, and Stolly Records for all the work they do behind the scenes. We really appreciate all the roadies, light, sound, and instrument techs, bus drivers, and promotors, for all the work you guys do.”
“Don’t forget photographers!” Chase yelled, pointing at me.
I wanted to hide. Seriously? Why?
Xander smiled down at me. “And of course, our hardworking photographers. Can’t forget to thank them. Don’t want a picture of me drooling on the bus to show up on social media next week. So thank you, Ella.”
I smiled and nodded even as I felt like hiding. Seriously couldn’t believe Chase. He really couldn’t treat me like any other employee. Gah.
“Let’s kick this tour off right!” Xander yelled holding his shot glass aloft. “All hail the Tin Gods!”
“Hail!” Everyone hollered back before we clinked our glasses together and downed the shot. Then raucous cheering pulsed through the room.
I shuddered as the alcohol slammed into my empty stomach. I probably should’ve eaten something, but between my angst over Jesse and my nerves over my job, I couldn’t.
And it would have to wait.
I shoved my shot glass onto the bar and got to work.