Page 17 of Hard Rock Deceit

The bassist, Cameron, ran a hand through his bright red hair, revealing both dark blue eyes for a moment, before his hair fell down to cover half his faceagain.

"I'm going to miss Lily," he said. "I'm not used to missing anything from home. Thissucks."

"You're attached at the hip," Noah, the lead singer, said. "Maybe some time apart will make her come to her senses and dump yoursorryass."

"Never gonna happen," Cameron declared with a cheeky grin. "Our love for each other is pureandtrue."

Noah snorted. He flicked his gazetome.

"So you're our photographer? I suppose I'll have to get used to you sticking your camera in my face all hours oftheday."

Noah Hart's dark eyes were cautious, guarded. Nothing of the passion and fire I'd seen onstage.

Cameron threw a sofa pillow at Noah's head, smacking him in the face. Noah glared at thebassist.

"Don't be so cranky," Cameron told him. "She's here to make us look good." Cameron turned to me. "We're not used to sharing our tour bus with anyone. Hope we don't scareyouoff."

"I'm sure you're notthatbad."

Cameron grinned. "I think youunderestimateus."

"Have you done many concert tours before?" Ianasked.

"No. This is my first real job. I justgraduated."

"So what sort of photography do youusuallydo?"

"Street photography, I guess. Abandoned buildings, graffiti, stufflikethat."

"That's cool." Ian's eyes lit up. "You should show us your stuffsometime."

A flutter of anxiety hit my gut. Sitting there while someone flipped through my photos always made my stomach churn. They always asked too many questions. What was the meaning behind my photo? What inspired me to shoot this scene or that? It always felt like a game of twenty questions. I never knew why it mattered so much. Why did everyone always want to know what I wasthinking?

I much preferred to be the anonymousartist.

The artist and their art cannot be separated, Ashfordalwayssaid.

We hit a series of bumps in the road, causing my stomach to drop even further. It was the same feeling as going up and down on a roller coaster, only withoutthefun.

"You feeling okay?" Cameronasked.

"Just a littlenauseous."

From both the idea of them asking about my work and from the rideitself.

"Do you get car sick?" heasked.

"Sometimes," I admitted, glad to have another excuse. "Doyouguys?"

"No, thank god," Cameron replied. "It would suck to be sick the entire time we were touring. Cassie,isit?"

I noddedsilently.

"August told us a littleaboutyou."

I quickly glanced at the drummer, who'd been silent so far. He seemed content to let his bandmates do the talking. Dread filled my chest, wondering what he might havetoldthem.

"He said you were some kind of genius photographer. You've got a special talent or whatever." Cameron smirked. "I suppose you'd have to be a prodigy to get the attention of someone like August Summers. You should beflattered."