Page 68 of Rebel

“She hates it when plans change.” Trav grins as he slides the phone back over.

“What’s the award show?” I ask, sipping herbal tea.

“A parade of the hot and famous,” Chase grumbles.

“Exactly, you usually love it.” Kolton nudges him and smiles weakly at me. “It’s not a huge one, but many go since a lot of new artists get awards, and we want to support and nurture them. It’s red carpet, but don’t worry, you’ll be fine. We’ll have a table, and all the attention will be on the winners.”

“Just don’t get caught with your zipper down,” Chase warns. “There are cameras everywhere.”

“Noted.” I chuckle.

It’s a huge step, but I can handle it. I might even hear the rumors about them.

So an awards show it is.

I don’t know what strings Rachel pulled, but she got me in and found me a stylist and a dress. She’s a godsend. They bustle around me now, getting me ready to management’s specifications. I let them. I don’t care what I look like. It’s just another act.

I’m not me tonight. I’m her, the lead singer of Dead Ringers, Beck Danvers.

I’ll play the part perfectly, even as I wait for Ben to get back to me. Shit, that reminds me. As the stylists move away to discuss eyeshadow colors, I pull my phone out.

Me: Check out a band called Ruination. I think they were the ones who died in the crash.

I tuck my phone away as my stylist returns, grinning. “Shut your eyes, and we’ll have you camera ready in no time.”

I hardly look at myself. Despite all the photos that have been taken, I’ve never been full glam. Not ever. I look like a different person, which helps as I turn away from the mirror and head downstairs to meet the guys.

The dress is a deep emerald green, skintight, and has a long, silky train. The top, unlike the simple bottom, is a sheer corset with emerald flowers running down it in rows, covering my nipples and nothing else. The back is laced up, and a split along my thigh shows my long legs and black heels. My hair is styled with luxurious Hollywood waves pinned to the side. Luckily, my makeup is heavy with dark, winged liner. My bag is a skull, my necklace matches, and I wear more rings on my fingers than I can count.

They made me sparkle.

As I reach the bottom of the stairs, I realize I’m not the only one they made sparkle. Trav wears what looks like a silk suit, with tapered trousers tucked into boots and a waistcoat that both hugs his muscles and shows off his tats. Over the top is a matching black silk coat, with a green stripe down each arm. His hair is slicked partially back and messy, with some strands hanging in his face to make his eyes pop.

Kolton has on a simple black suit, but with his styled hair and emerald tie, he looks like a fucking showstopper. The way he wears the suit makes my mouth go dry because it hugs every hard inch of his body as he unironically poses, leaning into the wall.

Chase is, well, Chase.

Wearing an oversized, green and gray striped blazer and matching trousers, he looks every inch the dapper rock star.

And we all match.

They turn when my heels hit the stairs, and I watch all three mouths drop open. When I reach the bottom, I grin. “Red carpet enough?”

Coughing, Chase loosens his tie before coming toward me, scooping me up bridal style. “I say we skip the awards.” He turns to carry me back upstairs as I laugh, but then we hear a sharp order.

“Put her down, Chase, now.”

Oops.

I’m lowered to my feet, and then I smile at Rachel, who I didn’t even see. She nods at me and straightens Chase’s tie, her hands lingering longer than necessary before she steps back. “You all look good. Let’s go.”

“Good? Our girl looks fucking amazing.” Kolton claps.

“Dibs on the seat next to Beck,” Trav calls

“Me too!” Kolton says, making Chase grumble.

“Children.” He takes my arm and leads me from the house, leaning in. “Don’t worry, pretty girl, just stay on my arm, stay with us, and we’ll take care of you.”

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