We play a packed show in Baltimore. The crowd screams, cheers, and brings out the best performance we’ve had so far this tour. When we finally make our way offstage after a second encore, we’re all soaked in sweat, both from the stage lights and the beast of a show we put in the books.
The compliments and congrats the crew offer on the way to our green room bolster my already soaring confidence.
Bedo’s inside waiting to greet us, his eyes trained on the cell phone that might as well be glued to his fingers. The thick rope of his gold chain glints with the illumination from the ceiling fluorescents. It rests against his white collared button down while his maroon corduroy pants bounce with a nervous beat. Bedo doesn’t travel with us on the bus, but he makes it to almost every performance. After a show like tonight he should be beaming with pride, with dollar signs in his eyes, because we rocked that packed arena. But the pinch of his lips gives me a suspicion this visit is going down like a trip to the principal’s office. My mind runs through the possible infractions but comes up blank ... Unless he discovered the reason behind our fresh eyebrow stylings.
Shit. I don’t think he’d appreciate the humor in our panty burglar escapades.
“I’m sure you can guess why I’m here, and while I can’t say I’m not surprised. I’m disappointed you didn’t tell me. As your manager I deserve honesty. Forthrightness. It’s the only way I stay ahead of these stories.”
I glance over to Sean and Austin, but they appear as lost as I am. Iz pulls a vape—the one Lexi got him—from his pocket and clicks it on, his inhale and exhale the only sounds in the room.
“Really? No one has anything to say?” Bedo sets his phone down.Oh, shit.That thing is an extra appendage. He’s not fucking around. I don’t know what he wants from us, though. So we pulled a prank? It’s not like we’re gonna rat each other out or blame it on one person.
Sean pulls his arms across his chest and flexes his arms. He’s a blockade. No one can break him.
But when my stare flicks to Austin, I realize we’re screwed. Sweat drips from his hairline, down his forehead, and the eyebrows Lexi helped reconstruct with a brown makeup pencil are starting to blur. He runs the back of his arm across his forehead, taking with it his perspiration and most of the eyebrow paint.
Bedo’s stare lands on Austin. “What in the fuck happened to your face?”
That’s all it takes for Austin to turn into Mr. Loose Lips. “It was the panties! Okay? It was the goddamn panties! Haven’t we suffered enough? We don’t need a verbal lashing from you, too! Look at me, man.” He scrubs his palms over his face and the rest of the makeup wipes clear. “I have no fucking eyebrows!”
Bedo blinks. That’s all he does. Doesn’t say a word. Doesn’t react in any other way and I wonder if Three Ugly Guys is just too much for one person to take. We aren’t the first band Bedo’s worked with; he’s been in the biz for thirty plus years. But maybe at some point there’s a limit for all the stupid shit one person can endure.
None of us speak as Bedo gathers his thoughts—or sanity, more likely—and it’s uncomfortably quiet with theclick click whooshof Iz’s vape the only background noise.
“One. I’m going to ignore the panty comment. I don’t even want to know what depravity that involves. Two. The lack of eyebrows? When you’re in public put on a damn hat.” He snaps the last part at Austin. “Now, what I came here for, and what I want to know, is why no one informed me that Sean and Lexi are dating.”
No fucking way.The green eyed monster within my mind rears its ugly head and I grip the couch cushion so I don’t leap across the room to punch Sean in the face.Him? Her? How? Why? When?It can’t be.
She should be with me.
Nervous laughter leaves Sean’s mouth and he rubs the knees of his jeans. All eyes are on him, and it’s not only Bedo staring at the man in the hot seat.
“We had a promise. No one fucks her.” I sound like a bitter loser, but I can’t seem to control the betrayal and disappointment that take over my thoughts.
“Dude.” Sean looks around, meets each of our stares, lands on me last. “Really? There’s nothing going on with me and Lex. If anyone one has been crossing that line, it’s you.”
Relief settles the coils of my muscles. I didn’t realize even my fists were clenched. “Sorry, Sean.” I mutter my apology, and Bedo’s pinched glare is now trained on me.Fuck.
He shakes his head and lifts his gaze to the ceiling as if it contains more answers. “I don’t get paid enough for this shit.” He shakes his head again and picks up his phone. “Well, the press is having a heyday with these photos.” He tosses the device to Sean.
Austin leans to the left to peer over his shoulder. “Fuck, look at you. Young and in love. When’s the wedding?” he teases and Sean shoves him back.
“Let me see,” I say and Sean tosses the phone to me. Crap.There it is. If I wasn’t a witness, I wouldn’t believe Sean. The way his head leans down to hers and they’re both smiling. Someone snapped these on our way back from the wing challenge, not far from the stadium.
“If this is nothing, that’s fine. But if it’s something, we need to prepare for damage control when you two inevitably break up. But we can use this to our advantage. Hype up ticket sales for the remaining tour dates. Budding romance between two young rock stars. It’s a story everyone loves.”
I hate it. And I hate the way Bedo talks about Lexi as if she’s some sort of prop. We sell out shows on our own.
“But we’re not a couple. We were just talking. I think I told her I had to shit. That’s why she’s laughing.” Sean nods to the phone still clenched in my fingers. Damn it. I hate these photos more than I should. My subconscious unleashes my vexation on the poor phone. Returning the cell to Bedo like a game of hot potato gone wrong, I attempt to get a handle on my feelings.
“I’m just saying if it were, it wouldn’t be the worst. Especially when they connect who she is.”
“I thought we weren’t supposed to say anything about that,” Austin says.
“You aren’t.” Bedo stands and just like that he’s done here. “And since you fuckers played two encores tonight and Austin decided to make love to his Fender during every one of his solos, you four only have ...” He glances at his phone. “One hour until the bus leaves. I’ll have dinner delivered.”
“What? We can’t go out? Who are you, our mother?” Austin complains, but my eyes stay on Bedo. Something in his dismissive attitude rubs me wrong. The guys continue to bitch and whine about the lack of celebration tonight, but when Bedo leaves the room, I follow.
