Westside Series Box Set Page 5

  “Oh, God,” she said miserably, burying her face in her hands again. “I whimpered?”

  “Yeah, you did,” I said, suddenly feeling bad for her. I was belittling this whole experience, but to her it was a big deal.

  She turned and looked back at the exit to the tent. “Do you think if I go back in there and apologize they would think I was less of an idiot?”

  I put my arm around her. “I think we should just go to our seats and try to enjoy the show.”

  Tory looked miserable as she said, “How am I supposed to do that?! I just humiliated myself in front of freaking Westside, and we’re sitting front and freaking center. They’re going to look down and realize that I was the idiot who went mute when I met them, and they’re all going to laugh at me.”

  “No, they won’t,” I assured her. “I can guarantee you’re not the first girl to lose her words after meeting them. It’s completely okay.”

  Maybe I’d never understand the phenomenon behind girls crying and screaming over boy bands, but I knew what it was like to lose your cool in front of a guy you liked. None of us were immune to things we did that later came back to haunt us where the opposite sex was concerned. I had a feeling this would be one of those things for Tory.

  “But that wasn’t supposed to happen,” she said, looking back at the tent where two young girls were emerging, giggling with their heads together. “I was supposed to be charming and funny, and Van was supposed to fall in love with me. He was supposed to come after me and ask for my number. That didn’t happen.”

  I didn’t have the heart to tell her that it wasn’t ever going to happen. It was a far-fetched fantasy that she’d concocted in her head. It wasn’t reality. I’d learned the hard way, after countless break-ups, that reality was so much grimmer than the fantasies we all read about and watched on the big screen. Love wasn’t like that – at least it hadn’t been for me, and I doubted it ever would be.

  Which was fine, because I was just having fun. That was my new mantra. I was going to embrace being single, and if I met a cute guy along the way, so be it. I was not putting parameters or timeframes or other strongholds on interactions I had with guys. I was going to let go, and have some fun. Or at the very least, I was going to try to do all that.

  “Come on, let’s go,” I said, guiding Tory away from the tent, hoping to put this whole incident behind us.

  “I need a new plan,” Tory said, shaking her head.

  “What do you mean?” I asked absently as I navigated us back into the arena and searched for a way to get to our seats.

  “I need to get backstage after the show.”

  Oh, Good Lord.

  “Um, okay. And how exactly are you planning to do that?” I asked her, pretty sure that never worked – ever.

  She definitely wouldn’t be the first girl to try to work her way backstage to meet the band. I was sure their security team was more than prepared for how to keep crazed fans from breaching the backstage area where the guys hung out. If they even did that. I wasn’t exactly sure what happened after concerts or what bands did. Wouldn’t they leave and go back to their hotels or out clubbing or at least to some private bar where they wouldn’t be bothered? I doubted they’d be hanging out in an arena when they had other options – they were in New York City after all.

  “I’m not sure how I’m going to do it,” Tory mused as we showed our tickets to an usher who made sure they were legit and showed us to our row. “I have to think about it.”

  “Just let me know the plan,” I said sarcastically, but Tory didn’t respond. I could see that she was deep in thought, which concerned me.

  As soon as we were settled in our seats, I fished my cell phone out of my back pocket to see that I’d missed a text from my best guy friend, Gabe. He was a year older than me, and we’d grown up next door to each other. He was really the coolest. His dad was a NASCAR driver, and Gabe had been racing cars since before he had a license. He’d started competing when he turned sixteen and had slowly moved up in the sport. His goal had always been to make it to the Sprint Cup Series, and as of the year before, he was one level away.

  With how much he’d been traveling, I’d barely seen him, although I did make it to two of his races over the summer when the series had come near New York. I was looking forward to hanging with him when I went home for Thanksgiving.

  Do you miss me? he’d asked in his text, being goofy like always.

  Like a hole in the head, I texted back, knowing it would make him laugh.

  That hurts, Andi. It hurts.

  I know. I’m such a bitch, I responded as the overhead speaker announced that a pop band I didn’t know was about to take the stage.

  “You should pay attention,” Tory said, nudging me as the first drum beats played overhead and the curtain came up on stage. “These guys are good. They’re an up and coming band from Kansas. They remind me a lot of Blink-182.”

  I looked up to see what looked like a group of high school kids playing instruments.

  “How old are they?” I asked her.

  “The lead singer is sixteen. He’s some genius who already has his GED or something. The other guys are seventeen, and their drummer is eighteen, I think.”

  She knew way too much about pop music for my taste, but I didn’t hate Blink-182, so maybe these guys would be good.

  When are you coming home to me? Gabe asked in his next text.

  He was worried about me. We’d talked almost daily since the whole incident with David. I’d cried to him multiple times, he’d threatened to come to New York and kick David’s ass multiple times, I told him he wasn’t worth it, and then we moved on to other topics, because I didn’t want to dwell on what an ass David had turned out to be. But Gabe knew pushing things away was my way of coping, so he kept asking how I was and kept worrying about me.

  I’ll be home on Monday. You’ll have me all to yourself for a whole week.

  Well, that just makes a guy smile. And great timing. You’ll get to meet Dane.

  Dane? Who’s Dane????

  Gabe had come out to me when we were eighteen, but I’d had a feeling he was gay long before that. Call it a hunch that ended up being right, but as far as I knew, I was the only person in his life who knew. His parents were completely in the dark, as were my parents, and definitely none of the guys on the circuit knew he was gay. Racing was still one of those sports that was more backward than it was forward, and coming out wasn’t going to do Gabe any good. But I was excited to hear that he was possibly seeing someone new.

  Dane’s a boy I’m in like with. He’s very cute, and he’s as far in the closet as I am, so I’m safe. His dad’s in politics, so he’s not coming out anytime soon. In fact, we’re quite content in our rainbow-colored closet together.

  As long as you’re happy, I told him.

  Very happy.

  Good. Now, do you want to laugh?

  Always, he texted back immediately.

  Guess where I am?

  No clue. Where are you?

  Brace yourself. I am front row at a Westside concert – with Tory because she begged me to go, I sent back, and then I waited, because he was probably laughing his ass off.

  Tell me you’re fucking joking.

  Not a chance. I’m here, and I just got to meet the band.

  Seriously?! How hot were they?

  I laughed. He would ask something like that. They were hot, but they’re babies.

  True, but so is Dane. He’s only twenty! He can’t even legally drink – not that we go out to drink anyway. But he’s so darn cute that I don’t even care if I have to buy the beer whenever he comes over.

  Aww, that is so adorable. You buy his beer.

  Happily, he sent back with a cheesy smiley face.

  Well, I can’t wait to meet him.

  And I can’t wait to hear all about your concert. Take lots of pictures of the beautiful babies – especially if they take their shirts off.

  I laughed again, causing Tory to gl
are at me. “You know there’s a concert going on.”

  “And I’m listening to the music,” I told her as I typed my reply to Gabe.

  I’m not sure anyone will be going shirtless tonight. There are more underage girls here than there are those of us who are over eighteen.

  You should go shirtless then! Gabe suggested. Lift your top for the boys. I’m sure they never get that at their shows.

  No! You’re insane.

  But you love me.

  I do love you, and I’ll see you on Monday, I told him.

  Call me the second you arrive, and head directly to my house. I’ll make you lunch, and you can meet Dane who will have spent the night like he does most nights.

  Gabe was no longer my parents’ neighbor as he’d bought a house of his own a few towns over five years ago. I spent most of my time when I was in Atlanta going between my parents’ house and his house, getting my fill of everyone before I had to leave again.

  Aww, I’m happy for you, babe.

  I was also mildly jealous, but I tried to push that feeling away as I reminded myself that I needed to embrace my singleness. I wasn’t dating, I wasn’t looking for a husband, and that was a good thing. And I was happy for my friend.

  Me too, Gabe texted back. See you soon.

  By the time I shoved my phone back into my pocket, the opening act was wrapping up their set.

  “They were good,” I told Tory.

  She narrowed her eyes at me. “You didn’t even watch.”

  “I listened, and what I heard was good.”

  “Fine, but you’d better watch when Westside comes out.”

  “I will,” I promised, hoping I’d stay entertained throughout the set. Their music really wasn’t my taste. “Now didn’t you promise me drinks if I came to this concert?”

  Tory smiled. “I did. Let’s go have some before the band comes on.”

  “I think that’s the best idea you’ve had all night.”

  Chapter Four

  Cam

  The house lights always came up when we played acoustically, and we were able to look out over the venue. It always amazed me how our fans went all out, and it never failed to thrill me when they sang along with every single word of every song, especially the slow ones.

  And truth be told, those were my favorites, because we had a hand in writing them, and I got to play my guitar. It was nice for people to see that we had range and weren’t just four guys singing songs written by other people. It was something that had bothered us at the beginning when we hadn’t had a say in the music we sung.

  Our first album, although good, wasn’t really infused with anything that was truly reflective of us. It was upbeat and filled with cute pop songs, and we didn’t hate it, but it also wasn’t the music we would have picked if we had a choice. And it was all vocal with our band backing us behind the scenes.

  On our second album, we had much more input and had even gotten to corroborate on lyrics to a few of the faster songs. Our third album, contained two full songs that were completely ours. They were ballads that Dillon and Van had written based on melodies that Dillon and I had come up with while we were messing around with our guitars. We’d spent a lot of downtime playing our guitars on the bus, and there was always a moment where we’d find the same rhythm, know where it should go, and just play, each of us adding our own take to make a melody that hadn’t existed before. Two of those melodies had morphed into songs, and we got to add them to the album. I felt like they were truly us, and playing them was my favorite part of the show.

  We’d done similar things on our fourth album that was set to release in January, only we’d taken the sound to a whole new level, making it more mature than any of our others. I was proud of it and excited for the fans to hear how we’d grown. And it was nice to see that our management team was open to our ideas. Had we been told to stick to the same bouncy songs we’d had to perform for six months after our first album was released, I might not have liked my job so much.

  When the stage lights dimmed to five spotlights, and the house lights went up, we were in our places on the stage that was designed to look like a New York City street. I found it to be quite ironic, given the location of our final tour stop.

  And for these two numbers, we were all seated on and around a stoop that could have been on a row house in Brooklyn or Queens. It had a broken down, rough feel to it that was grungy and a little romantic at the same time – very West Side Story if you asked me.

  I always sat on the bottom left, out of the way of everyone else with my guitar in my lap. Dillon sat opposite of me, his guitar on his lap, and the rest of the guys were staggered behind us. As Phillip toyed with the crowd, Dillon and I strummed aimlessly in the background, and it felt like we were fourteen again, sitting on his back porch trying to learn to play. We’d improved immensely over the years, but the feeling of brotherhood linked to those moments of our past never went away

  I looked over at him now, like I usually did, and grinned. He shot me a grin back, knowing exactly what I was thinking. It was one of those moments between us that the fans would probably interpret wrong, but I didn’t care. I wasn’t going to stop just to prevent rumors. The truth was that I never would have made it in Westside had it not been for my best friend, and I was grateful every day that he was there with me.

  Phillip talked to the crowd a little more and cracked a few jokes, making everyone laugh, while I continued to play an aimless melody, not even realizing how in tune with each other Dillon and I were, but we’d created a harmony out of thin air like we usually did.

  As Phillip was introducing the song, I let my eyes wander to the fans, looking at the signs they’d made and the excitement on their faces as they knew what song was coming. It was our biggest hit of the year and had spent a few weeks in the number one spot on the billboard charts. The excitement in the arena was palpable, and it fueled the adrenaline buzz I’d had going since we took the stage.

  I started to come back to center, since the song was beginning, and my gaze skated over the front row. Then it stopped. I zeroed in on a girl who didn’t seem like she was paying much attention at all. It was the exact opposite of the rapt expressions on the faces of almost every other person I could see. But this girl was looking down and texting, which made me frown. I watched her laugh at whatever the person on the other end of her phone was texting her as Dillon kicked off the song and Van joined in the next verse. I’d come in at the chorus in a few moments, so I had to pay attention, but something about that girl was distracting me. I figured she’d look up when she heard the music and start singing along, but she continued to text, as if there wasn’t a concert going on around her.

  I was so consumed with why she wasn’t paying attention that a few seconds later I flubbed a line, which was the only thing that made her finally look up at me. She actually frowned. I quickly corrected my mistake as I looked away, feeling my cheeks heat in embarrassment. As I made my cue for the chorus, I chanced a glance back at her, wondering if she was still looking at me. She wasn’t. She was back to texting.

  I realized after a few seconds of staring at her relentlessly, willing her to put her phone away or use it to take a picture like everyone else around her, that she was the girl from the meet and greet who’d been just this side of condescending when she’d been talking to us. I’d had a feeling then that she’d had no idea what we sung when she’d been telling us how much she loved our music. I hadn’t believed her. She’d only been there because her friend, the hot blond who hadn’t been able to form words and who was now singing along to every word, was a fan. The smart-mouthed brunette wasn’t into our music at all.

  I watched her friend nudge her, making her look up, and it was then that she met my gaze that was still zeroed in on her. I didn’t smile at her like I might have been inclined to do with another fan. I just raised an eyebrow in question, catching her by surprise as she realized I was looking at her. Then I shook my head infinitesimally as I sang the chorus
once again and watched her cock her head to the side in question.

  I looked away from her for a few brief moments during the song, but for the most part, my gaze was on her. She was watching me back, so in a moment of impulse, I rose to my feet and walked to the edge of the stage, directly in front of the girl and her friend. I stood there for the rest of the song, pretty much singing right to them. Then as we closed out the song, I shot the brunette a wink, making every girl who was already going nuts because I was practically in grabbing distance go even crazier because they thought I’d winked at them. They also assumed I was singing to them too, which was fine. I was okay with that. It was all part of the game, part of the show, and it was why I was there – to delight the fans. I’d just found one I wanted to delight more than the others because she didn’t seem to want to be there. I wanted to change her mind.

  As I backed away, the girl was smiling at me as she shook her head, obviously amused by my gesture. I laughed as she lifted her phone and snapped a picture of me. It was something I’d gotten used to, especially during shows – hell, everyone around her, including her friend, had been videotaping me on their phones as I’d sung – but something about the way she’d barely been paying attention before I’d caught her made me feel that much more flattered that she wanted my picture. A part of me wanted to hop down from the stage and take a selfie with her, because I had a feeling she’d think it was cute – or maybe she wouldn’t since she didn’t seem all that affected by what was happening around her. As much as I suddenly wanted to know how she’d feel about it, I also knew mayhem would ensue from the fans around her if I did that, so I refrained.

  I went back to my spot on the fake stoop and settled in for the next song. This time I had more singing parts, so I had to pay attention as I played. I forced myself to shift my gaze around the arena, but I kept coming back to the girl in the front row. She intrigued me, and it had been a while since someone had truly intrigued me. It didn’t happen that often anymore.

  * * *

  “What was that during Take A Chance?” Dillon asked me as the four of us filtered backstage after the show and headed toward our dressing rooms to shower and change.