Untamed

She gave Kellan a bright smile and didn’t leave until he thanked her. It made me roll my eyes. There are four of us, chica. Maybe we needed something. Looking around, I asked the guys, “Want to bail and go check out the nightlife around here? It’s been a while since I’ve kicked your guys’ asses at Find-a-Skank.”

They all shook their heads; Evan even yawned.

“Fine,” I muttered. When did our band become such sticklers for the rules? We used to be rebels. We used to be rock stars. We used to shun responsibility and laugh in the face of order. Chaos ruled our lives. I missed those days.

What felt like hours later, Kellan’s starry-eyed PA came in to tell us a commercial break was happening soon and we needed to get ready. We followed her to the stage, waited for the light to change to signal that a commercial was in progress, then stepped out from behind the curtain to take up our instruments.

The crowd watching the recording went nuts when they saw us. Johnny threw up both of his hands and snapped, “Save it for the camera, people!” They shushed a little, but the occasional “I love you, Kellan!” rang through the space between us and them.

Tossing on a fake smile, Johnny, the man too awesome to have a last name, strode our way. I clenched my jaw as he approached us. Douche was plastered in heavy makeup, giving him the appearance of a tan that he didn’t really have. “Boys! So good to have you back. Kellan, you’re our number one requested artist.” He stretched out his hand to Kellan, and Kellan, being the ambassador of goodwill that he was, shook it.

“Thank you for having us. It’s an honor to be on the show.”

I snorted after hearing Kellan’s words. Honor, my ass. It was an obligation, nothing more. My derisive noise got Johnny’s attention. His pudgy face swiveled my way, and his cordial smile twisted to smugness. “New member?” he asked. Extending his hand to me, he said, “You must be thrilled to be a part of the band. I’m Johnny, welcome to my show.”

I didn’t take the fucker’s hand. Brown hair or not, he knew full well that I was an original member of the band. “Bite me, cornhole.” Matt elbowed me in the ribs, but I didn’t care. My comment had finally wiped the smile from Johnny’s face.

“Articulate as always,” he said, then that damn smile came back. “See you boys after your set.”

Matt grabbed my elbow. “Don’t make a scene,” he hissed. “Just do your job.”

I shoved him away from me. “I’m nothing but professional…so step off, ass munch.”

Matt scrubbed his face with his hands, then stopped and took a deep cleansing breath. “It’s going to be fine,” he muttered to himself before turning to his instrument.

“Of course it is,” I answered him as I picked up my bass. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

None of the guys responded to my encouraging comment, but they didn’t really have time to anyway. The commercial break was ending. A crew member off-screen was giving Johnny a countdown, and his face split into a cheesy grin when the guy signed zero—showtime.

“Welcome back. Without further ado, ladies and gentlemen, I give you…the D-Bags!” He swished his hands our way and the cameras directly in front of us turned on. The well-trained crowd screamed louder than when they saw us the first time.

Evan tapped out a rhythm to start us off, then we took off. We played our new single, the song we’d been promoting nonstop for the past couple of weeks. I was glad this was the last time we’d be playing it for a while. I needed a break. Or at least variety. The same song over and over was killing me.

When we finished, I nearly said, “Thank God,” but I didn’t. Restraint was quickly becoming my new middle name.

Johnny came over and made a big show of greeting us. With a hand on Kellan’s shoulder, he led us to a line of four chairs next to his desk.

I tried to take the seat next to Kellan, but Evan beat me to it. Matt took the last seat, the one farthest away from the action, so I sat next to Evan. Matt looked green. As much as he pressed the issue that we needed to do stuff like this, he hated it. I found that weird. I loved the spotlight.

“Congratulations, guys, on your latest single. The album is releasing in March, correct?”

Kellan switched into professional gear and answered all his questions about the album and the direction of our music. I was so bored I almost fell asleep. When were we going to talk about me? My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I pulled it out and glanced at the screen. Matt shot me a horrified look, like he couldn’t believe I’d just done that on live TV. I wanted to tell him to relax, the audience wasn’t watching me, they were busy listening to the “Kellan and Johnny Show.”

I’d just received a text from Harold. As I read it, a smile broke over my face. I hope you’re sitting down when you read this…because you are about to be star! I just signed a six-episode deal for Acing It. Book your flight, it’s time to start working on more episodes! Naturally, we can’t do much without our star, but filming is scheduled to start on Monday. Hope to see you there, and congratulations!

Fuck yes! I texted him back, I’ll be there.

As if he knew I’d just received kick-ass news, Johnny leaned forward and asked, “Are we keeping you from something more important than debuting your single on live television?”

With a smirk, I shoved my phone back into my pocket. “Sort of, but I handled it.”

I’d meant it as a joke, but Johnny clearly wasn’t amused. With a tight smile, he said, “You looked like you were about to nod off for a minute there. Too many late nights? I’ve heard that not everyone can handle the life of a rock star.”