Page 3 of Bassist With Benefits
Jeremy filled two cups with coffee – one with milk and sugar, the other with French vanilla creamer and artificial sweetener – and headed back to the living room. He handed the mug with the creamer to Alan, who took it without saying anything. There was no need for cordiality. Jeremy didn’t need to announce that he had made Alan a cup of coffee. A “thank you” was unnecessary.
Jeremy was just sitting down next to his friend when a loud knock landed on the door and Felix’s voice came through the hardwood. “Good morning! I hope everyone is up. I have news to discuss.”
Still dealing with a hangover and not ready for one of Felix’s anal-retentive, overly-detailed rundown of the day’s itinerary, Jeremy let out an exasperated sigh. He took the throw pillow from under Alan’s arm and covered his face with it, hoping Felix would go away.
Derek opened the door for Felix, and the band’s manager filled the room with his presence. “Nice to see that you three are out of bed,” Felix said. “I almost had to break the door down to Brandon and Cam’s suite. I called and knocked for fifteen minutes before they answered.”
“Maybe they were fucking,” Derek said. “Did you ever think of that?”
Jeremy smiled and peeked out from under the pillow so he could see Felix’s reaction. The guy was really cool about open displays of sex and drugs, but the constant ribbing and interruptions annoyed the hell out of the band’s no-nonsense manager, and they loved to tease him.
“I don’t care,” Felix said. “When Bulletproof is touring and I call or knock on the door, I expect an answer ASAP no matter what anyone is doing, and that includes whether or not you’re bumping uglies.”
Alan burst out laughing, spewing coffee all over himself, the couch, and partly on Jeremy.
“Whose junk are you calling ugly?” Derek asked. “My shit’s beautiful. I can show you if you don’t believe me.” He started to pull down the waistband of his sweats, but Felix’s voice stopped him.
“I swear, Derek, if you show me so much as one pubic hair I’ll—”
“Fine. What’s so important anyway?” Derek asked.
“Well, I was going to wait for Brandon, but this is big news. He can catch up when he gets here.” Felix grabbed a chair from the dining room table and dragged it over to face the couch so he could sit. “I’ve been on the phone for the last two hours. It’s official. The contract with Twin Media is finalized. They’re going to start filming the rockumentary about Bulletproof right away.”
Just as Felix was finishing his sentence, Cam walked through the door with Brandon. “They’re making a movie about Bulletproof? Oh my God!” Cam exclaimed, hyped up like a kid on sugar. “How exciting!” Cam was still getting used to the spotlight of fame and notoriety that came with dating the lead singer of one of the hottest heavy metal bands in America. Every perk and the nonstop red-carpet treatment that the band had grown accustomed to over the years were met with over-the-top exuberance by Cam.
Felix let his head fall into his chest and rubbed at his forehead. “Come in and sit down so I can finish, please. I have a busy day ahead of me now that I have to advise the venues that we’ll be shooting.”
Cam ran over to the couch and sat on the edge with his hands clasped together and his elbows on his knees, fixated on Felix. He glanced at the empty seat next to him, surprised that Brandon wasn’t there. “Hurry up!” he called to Brandon who was still walking toward them at a leisurely pace. “Felix has things to do.”
“Thank you, Cam. It’s nice to know someone values my time.” Felix waited for Brandon to sit before he continued. “As you know, we’ve been going back and forth with Twin Media for months. Just when we thought negotiations were at a standstill and they were going to drop the movie deal, they conceded. They signed the contract this morning. A camera crew will be here in the morning and start filming with tomorrow night’s show. I want everyone to be on their best behavior for the next eight weeks, unless you want your dirty laundry aired all over the country. Remember, the camera will be rolling at after-parties, backstage, and at promo events. You get the idea. Just be cognizant that you’re being filmed. Think before you speak when the cameras are around. And try not to get so wasted that you have no control over your actions.” Felix grunted a laugh, shook his head, and stood up. “You guys are gonna hang yourselves.”
“We’re not choir boys,” Jeremy pointed out. “We’re rock stars. America wants the juice, not some sugar-coated boy band shit.”
“True. But they’re free to incorporate anything they film into the movie, and you don’t want to come off looking like a bunch of out-of-control assholes. Just try to tone down the drugs and alcohol when the cameras are on.” Felix headed toward the dining room, dragging the chair behind him. “Enjoy your day off. Tomorrow is a busy day.”
The film crew showed up in the greenroom at the Allstate Arena. There were no introductions, just two really annoying dudes with cameras on their shoulders who intruded on everyone’s conversations. Alan helped himself to a beer and scanned the pre-show get-together. Usually, these things were out of control from the moment they started. The alcohol flowed freely and cocaine was the condiment of choice, but not tonight. There was a faint smell of pot in the air, but it must have been coming from the bathroom, because there wasn’t any smoke in the room. Felix probably quashed everyone’s good time due to the media’s presence, because this party was boring as shit. The only good thing was the usual abundance of available groupies and hangers-on who were ready to provide every kind of sexual favor imaginable.
Alan walked over to Jeremy and Derek, who were near the buffet table nibbling on appetizers, to comment on the lack of available stimulants. “Are we supposed to act like a bunch of school boys now?” Alan held up his beer. “No liquor? Just beer?”
“This party blows.” Derek had an annoyed smirk on his lips. “It’s a good thing I just got a blowjob in the bathroom, or I’d be really pissed.”
Jeremy stuffed another shrimp into his mouth. “At least the food’s good. But I’m not gonna deal with these assholes in my face like Brandon.”
“We may not have to.” Derek jutted his chin toward Brandon. “Bran looks like he’s gonna keep them busy.”
Alan turned toward the band’s lead singer, who was having a one-sided conversation with the camera. Brandon came alive in front of a crowd or the media. His eyes sparkled like bright blue sapphires, his smile was a slash of white across his face, and his chest was proud. Without a shirt, the barbells that pierced his nipples shined in the light from the camera, highlighting the tattoos that covered his pecs, and his massive chest probably filled the camera lens. Alan chuckled. “I think this thing is gonna end up being an exposé on Brandon.”
“That’s fine with me,” Derek said. “But the after-party better not have this PG-13 vibe or I’m tossing these camera guys off the balcony.”
“The party’s in our suite, right?” Alan looked to Jeremy for confirmation, and his friend nodded. “Then we can do whatever the hell we want.”
“I invited a shit load of these hotties.” Derek pointed out a few of them with the mouth of his beer bottle. “And I told them they’d better not be wearing so many clothes.”
There was a really cute boyish-looking dude with sandy blond hair that caught Alan’s eye right away, and his spirits were immediately lifted. “I’ll be right back.”
“Hey!” Jeremy called to Alan with his hands cupped around his mouth. “Don’t forget about your best friend.”
Alan already planned to tell the guy to bring a few friends with him tonight so they could share. That’s what he loved about Jeremy; they were always on the same page; always thinking the same thoughts. He glanced over his shoulder and gave his friend the thumbs up. “I’m on it!”
