Page 92 of Before Now

None of the guys will talk to me.

None of them sleep on the bus.

The band, Christian, even Colton—they want nothing to do with me.

* * *

All the stress carries over,ready and waiting for the awkwardness of filming together the next afternoon. We need shots of the meet and greet and fan interactions, and regardless of if they hate me, the documentary needs to stay the priority.

I arrive at the music store with the crew instead of the band. A drastic change from the rest of the tour. Yesterday morning, I watched Felix and Colton bicker over nonsense, ending with Felix leaning over and licking Colton’s pancakes. Now when they walk through the alley entrance and see me in the storeroom, they fall silent. All five faces stoic and eyes avoidant.

Within three minutes, I wish for outright animosity rather than the indifference and professionalism surrounding me. I’m a suit. Even Foster plucks the spy glasses from my hand with utter disinterest.

I exit the storeroom ahead of the others, following the corridor to where it opens up to the front. Despite the shop windows and the music playing from speakers in one corner, the hum of voices reaches me. A sea of people wait on the sidewalk, and then a contained line snakes down the closed street, kept orderly with crowd barricades.

Hands wave and fans shout as I walk each side of the locked, guarded door, filming over the displays of guitars and amps. I swing through the shop for B-roll of keyboards, drums, and the little section of woodwinds. The place holds a vintage vibe behind the modern equipment. Records on the walls, autographed pictures framed. A nook intended for testing instruments even has an orange shag carpet on the walls for dampening sound.

I understand the draw for Of Men and Wolves in wanting the event held here.

At the rear of the store, they set up a charcoal backdrop for pictures. I land off to the side, near the alcove and close to where Nate set up his audio equipment. The angle allows a focus on the band but guarantees to capture every interaction. Glory and Xander will float to get the shots we discussed while Nate monitors mics.

They appear a handful of minutes ahead of the start time. Xander catches my eye and offers a small smile. My return one fails to stick. Along with everything else I haven’t figured out, our dynamic on tour earns a spot on the list. I need to de-ice enough to talk to him first.

Colton walks out with Christian. The latter folds his arms over his chest and leans by the doorway. But it’s Colton who surprises me. He heads toward me, scanning the place. Then he stands next to me.

I want to say something, but he stares at the hallway where the band will emerge any second and crosses his arms. We’re not keeping each other company. We both need the same proximity to the action.

Screams and shouting breach the walls and windows when the band appears. I immediately home in on Foster. He’s not wearing the frames I gave him. Felix is. It feels personal.

The noise grows louder once they open the doors to let the first wave inside. Felix and Dev kick up the charm as the line begins cycling through. Like they needed any more between the effortless swagger and smooth grins.

But nothing compares to the magnetism of Adams North. The hunter green tee stretches over his chest and around his biceps, and he’s wearing black ripped jeans. Every inch of him pulls you in, his charisma a force of its own. He flashes irresistible smiles to balance the seductive angst always skimming his surface. All confidence and sex and a magic I can’t describe.

I’ve witnessed him hypnotize a packed stadium over and over, but the man is dangerous in an intimate setting. The entirety of his attention is not for the weak of heart. I would know. Mine’s felt pretty beaten into submission by Foster plenty of times.

All three seem at ease as the people and groups rush for their pictures and hugs, where the guys never actually touch the fans. I’m unsure the fans notice, but the band’s hands and arms always hover, not quite making contact with anyone outside of handshakes.

The screams resume after the last group finishes and the guys wave on their way to the back through the doorway. Felix shouts a, “We love you,” and I flinch at the decibel level spike.

“Fuck,” Nate hisses behind me, and when I glance over my shoulder, he’s shaking his head.

If the other moments of cries and screeching didn’t peak the audio, that one certainly did.

I expect the band to be gone already by the time I help Nate break down audio, but they’re still in the storeroom. Foster, Felix, and Dev are signing autographs for two store employees by the exit and posing for more pictures. Christian’s scowling, not at me, but it matches the glower on Colton.

“We need to go before it gets worse,” the security guard says. He swings his gaze to me and gestures toward the door with his chin. “One of the event security fucked up, and people flooded the alley. We’ve cleared space to our van, but the one you brought is in front. Safest bet is to drive out together.”

I nod. “Yeah. No problem.”

“Anton will take you back.” He glances at my crew. “Unless whoever drove here wants to avoid all the moving bodies?”

Nate shakes his head violently. “Fuck, no.”

His eyes dart to me, checking he answered correctly, and I subtly nod. The relief that flashes in his eyes—Glory pats him on the shoulder.

“We’ll load your crew, then the band,” Colton says, all business but not in the cold way from earlier. He’s just serious. “Your van has less room around it, but they shouldn’t cause an issue once they see who we’re bringing out.”

I nod again, and Colton asks Nate for keys to hand off to Anton, who must already be outside. The band’s posted against the wall by the door, dutifully waiting, no concern showing when we move to leave. Xander respects my space and hangs back behind the other two while I end up in front of the door with Colton. It puts me between him and Foster, leaning beside me. My eyes flit to him as always, and he has his head rolled in our direction.

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