Page 1 of Hard Rock Fling
Chapter One
The spotlights flasheda kaleidoscope of colors, bright and hot. The crowd chanted, a dull roar of voices. The band remained backstage, ready to greet their adoring fans. Everyone waited in anticipation.
And I was the one they were all waiting on.
I scrambled around in boxes and totes, tossing accessories to the floor, not caring if they got dirty. Panic set in. What if I couldn't find them?
There. Underneath a pile of belts. Two pairs of identical sunglasses. I snatched them up and ran.
Five band members stood surrounded by assistants and interns, waiting for their cue to go on stage. Their lead singer looked out at the audience, scowling and irritated at the delay. The bassist and drummer spoke quietly to each other in hushed tones, mentally preparing themselves. As for the two guitarists, they paid no attention to the audience, or their fellow band members, or the barely-controlled chaos backstage.
Ian and Damon Drake, twin guitarists of hit rock band Darkest Days, were too busy flirting with the interns.
"Damian! I brought the two of you distilled water, not sparkling." A young assistant, a girl around my age, handed each of The Twins a bottle. "I know that's what you both like."
Since no one could tell them apart, everyone just called both of themDamian, a portmanteau usually reserved for celebrity couples.
"Aw, you remembered?" one of the twins purred, cupping her cheek. I could hear the girl's heart explode in her chest. "Such a sweetheart." He ran a finger down her throat, playing with the exposed collarbone peeking out from her tank top. "You know what else I like? Precious girls like you. Thoughtful. Sweet." He leaned toward her, noses practically bumping together.
"Your guitars." A crew member about a decade older brusquely hip-checked bottled water girl. She stumbled a few feet to the side. The poor girl blinked rapidly, dazed from her encounter with one of The Twins.
The guy handed a black guitar with a red fretboard to the twin on the left. He handed the second guitar, identical aside from the blue fretboard, to the twin on the right.
"Awesome, thanks," both twins said at the same time, sharing a sly smile. As soon as the crew member turned his back, they switched guitars.
"Anyone seen Damian?" I heard someone shout from across the room.
"They're back there," the crew member called, jerking his thumb toward the twins.
"Send rhythm guitar over here for a second. We gotta check this amp distortion."
The crew member looked back and forth between the twins, befuddled. "Uhh… which one's that, again?"
"Don't know, don't care. Just pick one," the voice called back.
"Excuse me." I tried to push between the crowd of assistants. "I need to give The Twins their sunglasses." They couldn't go on without their trademark shades.
One of them was busy fiddling with the leather wrist cuff covering his forearm and didn't hear, but the other, the one who flirted with bottled water girl, gave me a wink.
"Thanks, sweetness." He plucked a pair from my hand with an easy grin and stuck them on the top of his head.
"Damian, get over here." The drummer lifted his chin with a nod, calling The Twins over. "There's a last minute change with the setlist we need to talk about."
Before they could saunter off, I called out.
"Wait, Ian!"
The Twins froze mid-stride. Both turned around slowly. The twin on the left narrowed his eyes at me, looking puzzled, almost bemused.
"What did you call me?" he asked, giving me a slow once-over.
My heart skipped a beat at the piercing look in that brilliant green, bright and glinting.
"Sorry," I blurted out, suddenly nervous. "I couldn't find the right sunglasses so I wasn't able to give them to you earlier and you can't go on stage without them or else my boss will be upset with me." I snapped my jaw shut, ceasing my rambling.
"You want to give Ian his sunglasses?" Ian asked.
"You sure you already gave Damon his?" It was Damon who spoke this time.
