Page 15 of Feral Touch
What?
“That… wasn’t me. I mean, I did see Ren after a concert once, but all we did was say hi.”
He looked at me skeptically.
“It’s true. My two friends were there and they can vouch for me.”
“I guess fan rumors can sometimes get exaggerated.”
So now I had a hoard of fangirls pissed off at me and spreading lies—exactly what I didn’t want to have happen. I just wanted to see Ren again without getting caught up in his celebrity lifestyle.
The mood in the room changed before I could reply, conversations hushing and people shifting positions to face the front of the room.I turned to see what everyone was staring at.
A young woman dressed in a smart black skirt and blazer had appeared from a side door, talking on her cell phone.
“Awesome, it’s going to start soon,” Mark said.
“How do you know?”
“That’s Audio Ailey.”
“Who?”
He gave me a look. “How do you not know Ailey? She was a famous music reviewer who now works for the band. Everyone knows who she is.”
“Oh.” Maybe a real fan of Feral Silence would know. I didn’t want to admit I’d never heard of them until a month ago.
“Attention everyone!” she called, lowering her phone. We all went silent. “We’re about to start. If you could all please line up in order of your tickets, I’ll bring the guys out.”
Ticket order? I couldn’t remember being given any number. I quickly pulled out my phone and brought up the email frantically, then relaxed. There it was. Sixty-two. I looked around and counted about fifty or sixty people. Would I be near the end? We all shuffled into a vaguely ordered line that snaked around the room in an M shape, leaving me at the very back. I was last.
“You’ll get a few moments to take a photo with each band member, shake their hands and say a few words. Please don’t linger too long. We want each person to have a fair chance to see the guys. We’ll have bodyguards standing by, so please don’t break any of the rules we sent you.” She lifted her cell phone to her ear. “Alright, bring them out.”
The band members filed in one by one. I had been so caught up in my worries that I’d forgotten it wasn’t just Ren I’d be meeting. I’d have to talk to the whole band.
I tried to put a name to each of their faces; I didn’t want to embarrass myself in front of them by not knowing who they were.
The lead singer with the wavy blond hair, almost curly and falling over his forehead, came out first. He was dressed casually in ripped jeans and sneakers. His t-shirt drew my attention—there was an odd monster-like cartoon character on it holding something circular in its outstretched hands and words came out of his mouth in a bubble. I couldn’t tell what it said from where I was standing.
Kell. That was his name. He flashed us all a big grin and waved.
Next came Jayce, the guitarist. Leather pants, but no leather jacket, and a t-shirt covering a well-defined chest. The smirk on his face was almost so cocky that it was off-putting, but damn if it wasn’t just plain sexy.
Morris walked out after Jayce, tall and broad with bulging arm muscles and a serious expression on his face. I wondered if he ever smiled. He didn’t look scary, exactly, just…austere. His expression almost reminded me of what Ren used to look like.
Ren. He hadn’t come out yet. The other three were already in place at the front of the room, bodyguards at their sides. Was he not going to be here today? Was he sick?
Worry tore at my stomach until the side door finally swung open and Ren stepped out. My lungs seized up. In his tailored black suit jacket, and dress shirt open at the collar, he was just as handsome as I remembered. I nearly gulped at that hint of bare chest.
He had a smile on his face, but it didn’t look as easy as I’d seen in all his videos. It was almost strained, a small wrinkle set between his eyebrows. His eyes darted back and forth among the crowd, as if seeking something. Was he looking for me? His eyes never fell on me at the back of the line. He took his place in next to Morris.
“Alright, number one, you’re up.”
The line moved slowly as each fan took their time with the band. There was chatting and laughter and a fair bit of squealing, no doubt from the teenagers. If I listened closely, I could make out some pieces of conversation.
“I’m so glad you guys are going to be touring again,” a middle-aged woman said. I assumed she was talking to Kell.
“It’s really great to be back on stage with the guys.” Kell replied. The sincerity and enthusiasm in his voice couldn’t be faked. “But are you telling me you didn’t enjoy my solo stuff?”
