Page 8 of Finding Grey

FIVE

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SEAN

Nope, I was right the first time. This idea sucked.

With midnight fast approaching, there were still over a dozenGreysin front of us in the line. Gabi and I had headed for the door to the backstage area as soon as Dante’s concert ended, but our seats were on the far side of the arena so, by the time we found it, there were already at least fiftyGreyswaiting. Most were women, as Gabi had predicted, but there were plenty of guys mixed in as well. EachGreycould easily be identified by the birthday present they held in their hands.

My fingers tightened around my own gift-wrapped box. What the hell was I doing? I’d spent the last three years managing not to make a fool of myself over Dante Sinclair. Then one day, out of the blue, he crooks a single twitterish finger at me and where do I end up? Standing in line with a bunch of wannabes, waiting to prove myself something more than just another groupie. Even at eighteen, I knew this was a fucked up thing to do.

“Are you all right?” Gabi asked, drawing me out of my mental rant. “You look like you’re about to lay an egg, or vomit, or something.”

“This is ridiculous,” I growled. “I feel like Cinderella lining up to try on the glass slipper.”

She giggled at the idea. “Wedoseem to be surrounded by an abundance of slutty stepsisters,” she whispered, glancing at some of the barely dressed women standing in line with us. Half of them were all in grey, as if that would somehow make them eligible for the rock prince’s hand. Except this was mid-May, and with the start of winter only a few weeks away, they looked less like royalty and more like they were freezing their boobs off.

Gritting my teeth, I turned back towards the front of the line, where three security guards were dealing with eachGreyin turn. Only one of the guards seemed to be asking questions. The other two just stood there looking bored. Dante couldn’t have provided them with much information if they didn’t even know the gender of the person they were looking for. What the hell was that about? Did he get off on making me wait out here in the middle of the night like a freaking idiot? And why was I doing this again? “I’m not,” I muttered, shaking my head. “I’m not doing this.” Pushing the gift into Gabi’s hands, I stormed out of the line.

“Sean, wait.” Chasing after me, Gabi grabbed on to my arm and I allowed her to pull me to a stop. “I’m sorry. I thought it would be a bit of a lark, you know?” She pulled her jacket closer around her body, tucking her hands into her armpits. “But you’re right, it’s freezing out here and this is silly. It was an awesome concert, we had a great time, let’s leave it at that and go home.”

The concerthadbeen phenomenal. But it wasn’t because of the extravagant light show or the impressive set design. It wasn’t the dancers who had writhed around Dante on stage, or even the band who had so capably backed him. Those elements of the show had been fun, but they’d done nothing to detract from the man himself. It was during the parts of the show when Dante stood alone on stage, with nothing more than his guitar and a single microphone, that his star shone brightest. That’s when he seemed most relaxed, most like the boy I’d once met. And in those moments, the clarity of his voice made the ten-thousand people packed into the arena fall silent in awe.

For me personally, the night had been one of blissful discomfort. The nearness of his physical presence, together with the memory of those long, calloused fingers stroking their way down the outside of my thighs, had brought on some bizarre state of perpetual arousal that lasted for the entire two and a half hours Dante was on stage. A jolt of that same arousal coursed through me now, as I looked back over my shoulder at the stage door. Somewhere in that building, beyond the doors barred by the security guards, Dante waited… for me. My feet were in motion before I could even consider the consequences of my actions.

“Sean?” Gabi asked as she hurried to keep up with me. “What are you doing?”

“Putting an end to this fiasco.” I reached for her hand and she held on tight as we approached the front of the line.

“Whoa, there mate.” One of the security guards stepped forward to stop me before I reached the man in charge. “Where do you think you’re going?”

I looked the other man in the eye as I offered a friendly grin. “I’m here to save you another hour of pain. Whatever proof you need before letting someone through that door, I can give it to you.”

The security guard snorted a laugh as he looked me up and down. “I suppose you’re this Grey character then, are you?”

I nodded. “The one and only.”

“Sure you are, kid.” His tone was indulgent, but the added hint of aggression warned me not to push my luck. “Go on and join the end of the line like all the other freaks.”

“That’s what I’m trying to tell you,” I insisted with a liberal dose of good humour. “There won’tbea line anymore if you deal with me now.”

The guard took his time re-evaluating me. Something about my confidence must have convinced him to give me a chance, because he turned to speak in a low voice to the other security guard, the one who decided who did and didn’t get through the door.

“Sean,” Gabi whispered from beside me. “Are you really Grey?”

I winked at her but said nothing.

When the first guard turned back to me, his eyes were narrowed in warning. “You do know how pissed I’m going to be if you’re having me on?”

Another grin worked its way onto my face. “I’ve got a pretty good idea, yeah.”

The second security guard motioned for us to come forward, causing a ripple of dissatisfaction from those still waiting in line. “All right, let’s get this over with,” he said with a sigh. “Where did you and Dante Sinclair meet?”

“In Melbourne,” I responded without hesitation. “Dante was doing a charity concert with a bunch of other bands.” Gabi let out a little squeal from beside me. “I was there with my dad,” I told her. “He used to be a musician, remember?”

The guard looked up at the man who’d brought me over. “Well done. We might get home before sunrise, after all,” he said, before returning to his clipboard.

A flash went off somewhere nearby and I remembered the several dozen people who were still lined up behind me, each one with a phone attached to their hand. I drew the hood of my jacket up over my head to hide my face. I wanted to see Dante, not have my face plastered all over tomorrow’s entertainment news.