Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 88218 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88218 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
We only stay at the restaurant long enough to have coffee and be photographed before we move on to the next thing.
“How do we feel about going to the Chinese Theater and taking photos with fans on the street?” I ask.
Denver’s eyes widen. “Without … like, bodyguards?”
“It’ll be fine,” I say. “We’ll park illegally and stay right near the car so we can all jump back in. We’ll be fifteen minutes tops. We only need to light up social media. Harley will hate it.”
“Ooh, we should tell them to all post it with the hashtag come find us. They’ll think it’s a challenge for the fans, but it’ll actually be for Harley,” Denver says.
“Perfect.”
Blake leans in between our seats. “One thing, though. Do you think people will start talking about a reunion if we do all this?”
“They definitely will,” I say. “Technically, we’re doing Harley a favor, but …” I turn to him. “We should probably face it. You know this reunion is going to happen. I think at this point Harley would move mountains for it. Do you know he called me every single week for almost six months before you guys turned up at my door?”
Blake nods. “He showed up on set many times for me too.”
“Me too,” Denver says.
“I say we go for it.” I put that out there. “But, like we’ve agreed, we stay firm on what we want. If Harley wants it to happen, he’s going to be our new label head, and we can’t let him walk all over us like Joystar did.”
“Agreed,” Blake says.
“I think Harley will make it work,” Denver says. “You know, if he can catch us.”
We pull to a stop and park illegally right outside the theater, which already turns some heads, but when we get out of the car, the screaming starts.
“Can you believe it’s been over two years, and this is still the reaction we get?” Denver says before he’s promptly hugged by an overenthusiastic fan.
A small crowd gathers quickly, and as much as it is overwhelming because it’s been a while since I’ve experienced this kind of horde, it’s also intoxicating hearing how much people still love us.
There are the aggressive types who’ll cut a bitch to get to us, but like I always used to do, I find the one who’s hanging toward the back, patiently waiting their turn even if it means they’ll miss out.
I make my way through the people shoving their phones in my direction and find a girl with bright red hair, freckles, and oversized glasses and who’s looking down at the ground. “Hey.”
Her gaze flies to mine, and her eyes widen.
I smile. “Selfie?”
She nods and fumbles for her phone, almost dropping it in the process.
This is why I used to love what we did. It’s what made the bullshit worth it.
“You were always my favorite,” she says quietly, and I chuckle.
“Thanks.”
She runs off like I just made her day, and it makes my heart feel so full.
The three of us hang around for a bit, we all take selfies, I’m only asked a couple of times why I look so different, and each of us deflect when asked, “When is a reunion going to happen?”
About the tenth time we’re asked, Denver finally gives them an answer. “I dunno. Ryder says it’ll happen when we’re forty.” Denver looks over at me. “That’s in, what, only three years for you, isn’t it?”
I give him the finger. I’m allowed to do shit like that in public with me being the “bad boy.” Imagine what these people would do if they found out I’m a small-town family man who grew up on a failing tree farm in nowhere Montana instead of what they think I am.
Then again, I don’t even know what the media thinks of me anymore. Running home to Momma doesn’t scream bad boy. Neither does being nice to shy people in a crowd, but that’s different. Bad-boy attitudes must only be against the system, the man, or other famous people. Attack the fans and it’s a good way to lose a career.
“Can I get a kiss?” someone asks Denver.
His eyes flick over to mine before he smiles awkwardly. “Uh, sure.” He goes to kiss her cheek when she pulls away.
“Wait. I need to get it on camera.”
I was about two seconds away from having to deal with that ugly feeling known as jealousy, but then she went and said that.
The fastest way to ensure someone famous will never want to kiss you again is by asking for it to be photographed.
Denver kisses her cheek while I sign an autograph.
It doesn’t take us long to get swarmed by a huge group, and Blake checks his phone. “We’ve been here almost half an hour. Might need to make a break for it?”
I feel bad for those who got here too late, but any longer and Harley will be marching down the street. Or maybe he’s already here in his car, waiting for us to make a move.