Backstage Pass (Sinners on Tour 1)
“Let’s say that Trey isn’t interested in you, but Jace Seymour invites you to the tour bus for sex, do you go?”
Her brow furrowed. “Yeah, I’d do Jace. He’s hot. He might introduce me to Trey. A win-win situation. You know what would real y be awesome? A threesome with Trey and Master Sin—”
Myrna lifted her hand to silence her. “So how do you act toward regular men? Ones who aren’t famous.”
“What do you mean?”
“Do you regularly engage in promiscuous sex?”
The girl stared at her for a long moment. “Are you asking if I’m easy?”
“Are you?”
“Yeah, I guess.” She shrugged. “Is there something wrong with that?”
“As long as you’re okay with it, it’s fine. Have you ever had sex with a man you’ve just met?”
She looked puzzled, as if thinking hurt her brain. “On a first date, you mean?”
“No, I mean, some hot guy comes out of that door, walks up to you and says, ‘Let’s have sex.’ Do you go?”
She scowled. “No, that’s sick.”
“Let’s say Trey Mil s comes out of that door, walks up to you and says, ‘Let’s have sex.’ Do you go?”
“Yeah. I already said I would.”
“What’s the difference between the first guy and Trey?”
She paused and then shrugged. “I know Trey.”
“You know facts about Trey’s life, but you don’t know him. You’ve never met him, have you?”
“I do know him,” she spat. “I love Trey. And as soon as he meets me, he’l love me back. Understand?”
“Yeah, I think I’m starting to understand, actual y. I real y appreciate your talking to me.”
“So can you introduce me to him?”
“I’l put in a good word for you.”
She smiled. “That would be awesome!” She pul ed a tube of lip gloss from her tiny purse and applied several coats. Myrna talked to several other young women while she waited for Brian to finish his show. A trend emerged among them. They al had similar attitudes. She even found a girl in love with Brian. Talking to her was weird.
“How long have you been in love with Brian?”
“He prefers Master Sinclair, actual y.” The girl rol ed eyes surrounded with far too much blue eyeliner. Myrna knew for a fact that he didn’t, actually, but let Fan Girl think what she would.
“Um,” the girl continued. “I saw him live a couple of years ago, before the band got real y famous. Have you seen him on stage?”
“Yeah.”
“Isn’t he sexy?”
“Yeah. He’s definitely sexy.”
“And when he fingers his guitar, like…” She wriggled her fingers in rapid succession. “It’s like, oh my God, I want him, you know?”
“Yeah. I total y get that. How do you know you’re in love with him?”
“I think about him constantly. I have every picture of him ever taken taped to my wal . I watch his videos in slow motion.”
Creeped out, Myrna didn’t bother suppressing a shudder. “Isn’t that obsession, not love?”
“No, it’s definitely love. I’d do anything for him.”
She couldn’t stomach talking about Brian with obsessed fans any longer. “Thanks for talking to me.”
“Can you hook me up with Brian?”
Fuck no. She smiled at the girl. “I don’t think he’s interested, honey.”
Maybe she should stick with studying the rest of the band’s groupies, but avoid Brian’s. The back door swung open. Brian emerged, steam rising from his skin as the cool evening air hit his sweat-drenched body. He raced toward her and wrapped her in his arms, seeking her mouth for a welcoming kiss. Camera flashes went off. Something slammed into the back of Myrna’s head. Hard.
She jerked away from Brian, rubbing her scalp. “Ow.”
Brian looked down at her. “What’s wrong?”
“Something hit me,” she said, her eyes watery with tears. “It real y hurt.”
He retrieved a black ankle boot from the ground. “Who threw this?” he demanded, scanning the congregated fans. Only one girl stood beyond the barrier with a matching boot on one foot and nothing on the other. Brian approached the girl and shook the boot in her face. She flinched. It was the same girl who had claimed to be in love with Brian minutes before. “Did you hit my girlfriend with this?”
“Your girlfriend!” she wailed.
“Your girlfriend?” Myrna murmured.
Myrna rubbed the lump on her head, stunned more by his words than being clobbered in the back of the head.
“I’m sorry, Master Sinclair,” the fan girl said. “I love you. I love you.”
“And you think hitting someone I care about in the back of the head wil get positive attention from me?”
“I didn’t mean to,” the girl cried, tears pouring down her cheeks. “I’m sorry. Please don’t be mad at me.”
He shoved the boot into the young woman’s chest. “Get out of here!”
He looked at the back of Myrna’s head, fingering the lump there. She sucked a pained breath through her teeth.
“Are you okay, baby? I think this is bleeding.” He looked down at his fingertips for signs of blood. The rest of the band exited the building then. Sed paused in front of Myrna, who looked up at him, stil grimacing in pain.
“What happened?” he asked.
“Some bitch hit her in the back of the head with a boot.” Brian touched the lump on the back of her head again. She wished he would stop already.
“What is this?” Brian asked, fingering the back of her head again. “A scar? What—”
She twisted away from him. “It’s nothing.”
“Come on, let’s get out of here,” Sed said. They ignored the group of fans who were growing in number by the minute and went directly to the bus. Sed told the girls fol owing him to wait outside.
Brian directed Myrna to a seat at the dining table and treated her scrape with peroxide from a first aid kit. The entire band was looking at her like she’d been in a horrible accident and was expected to die at any moment.
“I’m okay,” she insisted.
“You’ve got to be more careful, Brian,” Sed said. “You know what some of these fans are like.”
“I wasn’t thinking.” Brian tossed a wad of wet gauze on the table and kissed Myrna on the back of the head. “I was just happy to see her.”