Page 49 of Punk Rock Reflection
Once everyone had a drink in their hands, Derek jumped onto a nearby cocktail table, which almost toppled over from his weight, and held up his drink. “To Immortal Angel for writing a kick-ass song and letting us be part of a killer collab!”
Brandon let out one of his signature screams, which made several people in the room flinch from the volume and power behind his voice. Then he bumped his cup against Tommy’s. “Thanks, bruh. The song is definitely going to win tonight.” Brandon chugged the alcohol, and his broad chest inflated as he smiled. “That award is going to look sweet next to all of my Grammys.”
Tommy contemplated Brandon’s success. Bulletproof had skyrocketed to fame before Brandon and his bandmates were 20 years old, and they’d been at the top of the charts for almost a decade. Brandon was younger than Tommy and probably had accomplished way more in his career. Despite all his achievements, Brandon was as amped up as if this were his first award nomination.
“Let me ask you a question,” Tommy said, after he took a sip of his Jack Daniels.
“Shoot.”
“Did you ever feel as if there isn’t anything left to do professionally? I mean, how much further can our careers go?”
“Dude, are you kidding? The sky’s the limit. Every day is another opportunity to make new music.” Brandon clutched Tommy’s shoulder in his big paw. “You’re the master. I just sing and write lyrics. You write riffs that can melt the face off a statue and perform them like a madman. I’m always tuning in to see what you’re going to do next. And you always blow me away.”
Tommy’s head inflated at the compliment. “Thanks. That means a lot to me.” Brandon was someone that he revered and respected in the music industry, and his chest filled with pride. But self-worth was never the issue. Tommy knew he was a gifted musician, but he was beginning to wonder if that was enough.
Brandon wrapped his arm around Tommy’s shoulder and gave him a powerful side hug. “Don’t get hung up on trying to out-do yourself. Today’s a great day. Enjoy it. Worry about tomorrow, tomorrow. You’re just in some kind of funk right now. It’ll pass. Maybe you don’t see anything on the horizon right now that’s giving you a hard-on, but next week something may suddenly appeal to you that you never thought you’d be interested in. Maybe Hollywood will come knocking, and you’ll blow up the big screen.”
“I’m not really interested in—”
“You say that now, but tomorrow you could feel differently. Admit it. An Oscar would look rad sitting on the mantle.”
Tommy chuckled. Brandon had such a positive attitude that it lifted his spirits, and he dismissed his questionable future. For now. “Yeah. You’re right.” He looked into his empty cup. “Let’s do another shot.”
“That’s the spirit!” Brandon gave Tommy a friendly slap on the back that made him stumble, and then yelled for a refill.
Derek quickly breezed by and splashed some Jack Daniels into their cups.
“Feeling better, mi amor?” Angel asked.
“Yeah.” Tommy nodded. “I am.”
Jessi overheard and cradled Tommy’s face in her hands.
He shaved this morning, leaving less than a half inch of facial hair. The unruly beard had been getting to him, and he liked it better this way. He could feel the warmth of Jessi’s hands on his face.
“I’m glad. I love to see you happy.” She kissed him, deeply, and his body responded.
The alcohol heightened his senses, and his pores were tingling. He leaned into the kiss and ran his hand down Jessi’s bare thigh, exposed by the sexy slit in her gown.
Someone whistled, and another yelled, “Get a room!”
“There are cameras here,” Angel warned.
When they didn’t tone it down, Angel tutted. “At least let me in on the action.”
Tommy grabbed Angel by the front of his vest and pulled him in for a three-way kiss that probably should have been censored.
Since the Rockstars’ Ball was an annual televised event, cameras were everywhere, and they swooped in for the money shot. After the mishap out front, Tommy, Angel, and Jessi broke their embrace. They valued their privacy and had been blasted by the tabloids when they first went public with their polyamorous relationship. Since then, they’d been careful not to fuel the media frenzy, so footage of the famous throuple engaged in PDA garnered big bucks.
“I think we better head to the ballroom and find our seats,” Jessi replied, breathless. “But first, I need a cold drink.”
“Or a cold shower,” Tommy added, and fanned his overheated body.
Someone led them through the lobby and into the Grand Ballroom where the awards ceremony was to take place. Immortal Angel and Bulletproof sat at one big table, large enough to accommodate both bands and their spouses, near the front of the stage right behind the Garrick Brothers Band, who actually were a band of five brothers.
Appetizers of mini shrimp-and-grits tartlets were served, which were out of this world, and a ridiculous beef Wellington followed. Even Angel was impressed with the indulgent meal.
“The chef at this hotel is superb,” Angel commented. “This Wellington is absolutely lovely. The pastry is flakey and buttery. The tenderloin is cooked perfectly. And I don’t think I’ve ever had a more decadent appetizer. It’s not often that I’m served food of this caliber.”
