Page 5 of Wild Infatuation (Rebel Rockstars #3)

Chapter Five

Shawn

I TAP MY FOOT as Jacob belts out the last few lines of “Escape.”

“Perfect,” Adam, the producer, says.

He gives Jacob a thumbs up, and Jacob peels off chunky headphones and steps away from the mic. The rest of us lounge around on a couch behind Adam’s huge board of controls and switches and other mixing equipment. Jacob joins us, sitting cross-legged on the floor but looking utterly at ease.

Things have calmed down since that meet and greet.

Not immediately. There was a whole media circus around our bodyguard situation, but Jacob and Seth got that, and themselves, sorted out.

We switched to what we do best — music. The songs for our next album are taking shape, “Escape” first and foremost. In fact, the lines Jacob just sang will go into a music video very, very soon, pending Adam’s ability to work his mixing magic.

“How was it?” Jacob says.

I nearly roll my eyes. Our frontman has some of the most insane pipes I’ve ever heard. He’s never less than incredible, which is a large reason why we got to where we are.

“Great,” Adam says. “I think we’ve got it.”

A thrill shivers through me. The music video was waiting for this. Now, it’s going to be full steam ahead. I have no idea what to expect from that sort of thing. I’m not the kind of guy who likes to be in front of a camera, and soon I’m going to make an entire music video.

Despite my fears, taking this step also feels …

incredible. The fame is one thing, but we’re all here because we want to make music.

It felt like we lost track of that in the flurry following the tour and then all the controversy we dealt with afterward.

Now, at last, we’re doing what we’re meant to do, doing what we’ve dreamed of all this time.

We didn’t fantasize about the money or the penthouses or the TV appearances back when we got together and started making music in Levi’s parents’ garage.

We fantasized about people hearing our music.

Admittedly, we didn’t truly understand all that entailed, but we were young and idealistic.

Almost a year of startling and very sudden fame has certainly beaten some of that out of all of us, even Jacob.

“So I guess we’re basically ready for the video,” Jacob says.

“It’ll take a little time to get the sound ready,” Adam says, “but yeah, not too long. This is my top priority.”

“Hell yes, I’m so excited,” Jacob says.

He flashes all of us a grin. Levi seems indifferent, but Dan seems as excited-anxious as me. Jacob’s smile works best on Keannen, who doesn’t seem to fear anything, least of all a camera.

“Emmett says hiring is going well,” Dan offers. “There’s going to be a whole crew for this.”

“What about the location?” Jacob asks.

“I think they’re closing in on getting permission to use part of the arboretum,” Dan says.

I don’t know when he became our unofficial liaison between the band and our manager, Emmett. It happened naturally, without anyone discussing the arrangement. And hey, if it means I don’t have to field our imposing manager’s pointed questions and demanding calls, I don’t mind one bit.

We leave the session, and for a few days, life is quiet and easy. I don’t have to think about cameras, about paparazzi, about TV appearances or meet and greets or … enthusiastic fans.

I haven’t said anything to the others about the encounter at the meet and greet.

For one thing, I don’t want to, but for another, Jacob had bigger matters that we all chipped in to help with.

I could bring it up now, but what’s the point?

Nothing happened. It was just a super enthusiastic fan.

That should be a good thing. He didn’t do anything crazy, either.

He got his shirt signed like everyone else and moved on.

Well, okay, he didn’t exactly move on. There was that moment, that moment of lingering, that moment when it seemed like there might be more he wanted to say. I can still picture his soft, faintly glossy lips hanging open around unspoken words.

When I catch myself imagining it one day in my palatial apartment, I shake my head.

I’ve been standing still in my video game for who knows how long, the avatar on the screen shifting irritably from foot to foot.

The controller sits in my numb hands as I blink myself out of the memory and back into the real world.

It’s way too easy to get lost in my head these days.

I have a huge apartment full of anything I could ever want, from the newest video game console to bookshelves full of records to fancy kitchen equipment I’ll probably never use.

There’s even a balcony that I put a hammock on — because why not?

I’ve got the space. This place could fit my whole band and all their families with room to spare, but it’s just me right now, walled into this fortress of an apartment like a king high up in a castle.

All of Seattle lies below me, a kingdom I could plunder for anything I want at any time.

Yet I’m sitting here thinking about some crazy fan from a meet and greet.

He’s gone to every damn show. He’s listened to our music from the start. That speaks to some sort of crazy, right? Every warning bell is going off in my head, but another part of me is strangely charmed by the whole thing. In a life defined by betrayal, he’s the epitome of loyalty.

I give up on the game and try to convince myself to go to bed early. The music video shoot starts tomorrow, two grueling days of being dressed up like a doll and shoved in front of a camera, but at least it’ll get me out of my head.

IT WORKS.

At first.

From the moment I park at the arboretum near the University of Washington campus in Seattle, I don’t have much space left for overthinking one devoted fan. I’m too busy gawking at the gauntlet that lies before me.

As soon as I pulled up, handlers ushered me into a specific parking lot.

A guy leaned into my window and looked at my ID to make sure I am, indeed, the lead guitarist of Baptism Emperor and supposed to be here.

Then he waved me into the lot, which had way more cars in it than mine and my four bandmates’.

Someone was on me almost the second I got out of my car.

The production has taken over a corner of the sprawling arboretum, a grassy area near a huge pond.

A path winds along the edge of the pond, and lacy trees droop over the water.

Decorative stone and yet more trees ring the water.

On the far side of the pond, a stone wall cuts the arboretum into tiers of trees and trimmed shrubs and walking paths.

Apparently, we get the whole area to ourselves today.

There’s even police tape roping it off, but already people cluster beyond it.

As someone ushers me past, I put my head down and keep my sunglasses on.

It isn’t lost on me that our biggest fan is likely among the gawkers.

If word of the music video has gotten around to the fan community, he’ll surely be here to see us.

To see me.

I shove aside the mixture of emotions that inspires. This is going to be a very long day, and I don’t need to get distracted with something like an obsessed fan. The security Seth arranged will keep everyone well behind that police tape.

Tents sit to the side of the parking lot.

There are a couple trailers in the parking lot as well, generators humming beside them.

Craft services tables hug one edge of the lot, and I convince my handler to lead me that direction so I can get some coffee into my body.

The caffeine should help with both the early hour and my incessantly looping thoughts.

Levi meets me at the cardboard box of coffee, filling a paper cup after I do. He dumps in some cream and sugar, but I leave mine black.

“You ready for this?” Levi asks as we step out of the way of PAs and assistants and other crew members just as eager for their morning boost.

“I guess so,” I say.

Levi takes big gulps of his coffee. It’s kinda strange to watch him down a stimulant so greedily.

He gives off the vibes of a guy who’d be wearing a beanie and a hemp sweater if he weren’t in the band.

The stoner thing works well for a bass player, but as in my case, it isn’t an act.

Levi is simply himself, laid back, happy to go with the flow, and a phenomenal musician.

He could have been some kind of all-American sports guy with his blond hair and blue eyes, but the hair has gotten significantly more shaggy and “rocker” since I first met him.

He doesn’t even have any visible tattoos, just one little geometric nonsense design on his ankle.

Meanwhile, I’m running out of space if I don’t start creeping above the shoulders.

“Man, this is weird,” Levi mutters into his coffee.

I snort a laugh into mine. This is what I’ve always loved about this guy and the reason we’ve gotten along easily no matter what other turmoil was happening among the other band members. He’s so aggressively himself at all times. No artifice. Nothing to figure out. Levi is just Levi.

“Yeah, but at least Jacob will have fun.”

Levi looks where I nod. Jacob is stepping out of a trailer, and he looks like a freaking disco ball. They put him in something very bright and very shiny and cut very low. A V plunges from his shoulders to below his belly button.

“God, they aren’t going to dress all of us like that, are they?” Levi says.

I shudder. “I hope not.”

Levi and I don’t get to speculate more. Someone tells us we need to get dressed and shoos us into the same trailer Jacob emerged from.

Thankfully, they put us in far more subdued clothing.

Leather pants for me, with a shredded up shirt.

I know they like showing off my tattoos, as though the ink I chose for myself boosts the entire band’s image.

Whatever. At least it’s not a spandex clown suit.

I decide against complaining and move on to the next stage of this uncomfortable adventure.

“Hair and makeup is in this trailer,” a young woman with a fraying bun tells me.

She physically moves me along. I can hear someone chirping into her ear via a headset. I hope everyone around us isn’t going to be so frantic and stressed, otherwise this will be a very long two days.

We get to the hair and makeup trailer. She goes up the steps before me, poking her head inside to shout, “Next one! Lead guitar. They want him dark and broody.”

I very nearly roll my eyes. Is it necessary to turn us into cartoon characters in order to sell music? But once again I bite back my complaints, climbing the steps when the woman backs away and waves me inside.

I freeze the moment I enter the trailer.

The cramped RV contains a few counters and a sink, as well as a single chair before a mirror. Hair and makeup supplies lie scattered across the bureau. And behind the chair, staring at me with wide green eyes and swallowing as though trying to calm himself, stands Baptism Emperor’s number one fan.