Page 43 of Hard Rock Deceit

August was always at the back of the stage. It was difficult to get good shots of him, unlike the easy access I had to the rest of the guys. I had to zoom in to get anythingworthwhile.

I gave up and put all my focus on the drummer for the last half of the concert. I'd make sure I took enough photos of the other guys later on to make upforit.

Last night, August's eyes had shined so beautifully in the moonlight. They left mebreathless.

I wanted to capture that sentiment again. I was sure whatever August had been feeling then couldn't be half as passionate as his feelings on stage, playing for thousands of adoring fans. I wasn't even in the band, or a crazed fan, and yet I was getting caught up in the thrill of theirperformance.

My pounding heart, burning lungs and aching feet were a welcome reminder of how lucky I was to get a front row seat to something thisunforgettable.

Wanting to capture that passion, I zoomed in, putting August's face in theframe.

His eyes weren't the same clear, brilliant ice blue they were last night. Instead, they had a sort of hazy look to them, almost distant, wavering. It was a now familiar look. I'd always assumed it was August being distracted by his inner thoughts, always worrying about something, or thinking thingsthrough.

As I continued shooting, the cheering of the crowd turned into hushed murmurs. Girls behind me whispered indistinctly to each other in questioning tones. Two guys in front of me turned to look at each other,confused.

Then I heard it. Andsawit.

August missed a beat. Thenanother.

The strain on his brow had returned. His eyes were wide, fogged over. His chest heaved as if struggling to breathe. His pupils were reduced topinpoints.

I barely had time for my concern to register before shouts and screams filledmyears.

August fell to the floor,unconscious.

ChapterFourteen

Sitting silently in a hard,cold plastic chair, I tried to pretend I wasinvisible.

It was easy enough to do. The other four people waiting in the hospital hallway were making enough of a commotion. It was no wonder I wasoverlooked.

"…don't fucking care about yourrules!"

"We're the closest thing to familyhe'sgot."

"Please, just tell us if he's going to be okay or not. Just tellusthat."

Cameron and the twins were alternatively pleading with and yelling at a man in a long white coat. Adoctor.

August'sdoctor.

Tears prickled the back of my eyes. I let a few fall, not trying to keep them in, just brushing them away with mysleeve.

They weren't telling us anything. We weren't August's family. We'd been waiting for hours and we still didn't knowanything.

"Stop shouting at the man." Noah's quiet voice interrupted the others. "He's just doinghisjob."

The lead singer leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. I thought he might scowl at his friends. Instead, he only looked exhausted, tired lines around sad,darkeyes.

"I'll stop shouting when he tells us what the fuck is going on," Camerongrowled.

"I'm sorry." The doctor's tone was brisk yet polite. I was sure he'd had this conversation with hundreds of people. "I can only speak to the patient's nextofkin."

Cameron jutted his chin outstubbornly.

"We'rehisfamily."

Before he could continue arguing, a nurse rushed down the hallway. She spoke hushed into the doctor's ear. Henodded.