Secret Confessions: Backstage – Theo Read online

  Secret Confessions: Backstage

  Theo

  Zaide Bishop

  www.escapepublishing.com.au

  Secret Confessions: Backstage

  Theo

  Zaide Bishop

  An All-Access pass to Sex, Love, and Rock’N‘Roll. Because what happens on tour doesn’t always stay on tour…

  From Australia to the world…

  Chicago. The last stop of their wildly successful US tour sees Australia’s biggest rock band The Screaming Tuesdays in sultry, summertime Chicago to play two sold-out shows. But the stage is not where the action is, and no one knows what goes on behind the scenes…

  It’s just supposed to be a fan meet-and-greet. Theo’s done them before, he’ll do them again, and he’s got Rei and Sawyer to back him up. But when fan club president Andi decides that they all need to work out their issues in a very unconventional way, Theo can’t decide if she’s a nightmare or his very deepest fantasy come true…

  Secret Confessions: Backstage

  Reading order

  1. Chase—K.M. Golland

  2. Josh—Eden Summers

  3. Yanis—Lexxie Couper

  4. Theo—Zaide Bishop

  5. Kelly—Shona Husk

  6. Jet—Rhian Cahill

  About the Author

  Born in 1985, Zaide is a shy Australian writer who spends an unhealthy amount of time reading and watching horror movies. She also loves cats and aquariums, and lives in a house dominated by both.

  When she isn’t writing, Zaide is studying toward a bachelor of psychology—with a particular interest in the sociological effects of the internet on interpersonal communications, learning and information processing. Zaide’s other interests include cooking, rock climbing, lithops, web design, photography and video gaming.

  You can visit her website at www.zaidebishop.com

  Acknowledgements

  A huge thanks to Kate Cuthbert and the editors at Harlequin, not just for making this book the best it can be, but for helping me improve my skills.

  Credit where credit is due to my fellow writers who keep me inspired and accountable. Particularly my amazing peers at Vision Writers. Your feeble cow bell means nothing to me. Nothing!

  And most of all, a huge thank you to my dearest Meg who showed me there is more to romance than explosions and sharks. Also that maybe I was confusing romance with something else entirely.

  To Meg:

  Who gets all the in-jokes. Even that one.

  Contents

  About the Author

  Acknowledgements

  Episode 4—Thoe

  Bestselling Titles by Escape Publishing…

  Episode 4—Theo

  “Fuck shit cock balls,” Theo didn’t swear a lot, but when he did he liked to get it all out in one breath. On his laptop screen, the auction had ended and he was not the winning bid. He’d put in a high reserve, one he had been sure no one would top, but someone had and he hadn’t been there to outbid them at the last minute because he’d been on stage, performing.

  The pendant, his pendant, was gone.

  Rei leaned on the back of his chair, peering at the screen. He’d just showered and his hair dripped water onto Theo’s shoulder. He smelled like those generic, flowery shampoos that were in every hotel bathroom and the same tiny bars of soap that were prone to making their skin flaky if the weather was dry.

  “That looks like the one your sister gave you,” he said.

  “It is the one my sister gave me,” Theo said quietly, sullen. “I left it in the bathroom at Memphis.”

  Rei whistled between his teeth. “Six hundred dollars, huh?”

  “It cost her about ten bucks in Cairns.”

  He leaned back, tilting his head so he could feel the pull of the muscles in his neck. That necklace mattered to him. It wasn’t for some fan to hoard and gloat over. The weight of it was a connection to home. It was memories of Christmas at Tinaroo Dam, floating in rubber tyres and eating prawns and overcooked steak, ant bites, the smell of insect repellent and sunscreen, the girls squealing when they saw a carpet snake.

  “She’ll get you another one,” Rei said.

  “That’s not the point.” He let himself stew a moment longer, then met Rei’s gaze. “Where’s Jet?”

  “Doing an interview. With the Harris woman.”

  “Ah.”

  Theo remembered now. Jet had agreed to handle Harris alone because the rest of them were going to be dealing with Andrea McNamara, AKA Andi: truly a creature nightmares were made of. She was president of the largest Screaming Tuesday’s fan club and more than a little obsessive about the band. Not just ‘birthdays and home town’ obsessive, but ‘you’re out of milk and your cable bill is due’ obsessive. They’d only ever dealt with her online, however, that was more than enough to be slightly terrifying.

  Still, Yanis had talked them into tonight. Big fans—super fans—like Andi were amazing at promoting and organising events for the band. Yes, they could be scary, but they were worth more than you could pay for a publicist to promote and develop a core fan base. And tonight Theo, Rei, and Sawyer were going to pay back some of what they owed her in the form of two hours of private social time with her and a select group of fans from the forums.

  Theo wished it was any other night. He was tired from the gig, but the loss of the necklace had left him cranky as well. He couldn’t deal with even more crazy.

  The door banged as Sawyer swaggered in. Sawyer couldn’t come through a door quietly. It wasn’t that he was loud, just that any moment he wasn’t the centre of attention was his own personal hell. It was lucky he and Jet could stand being the centre of attention together, or they would have made life completely intolerable for everyone else. Sawyer was born to be a drummer. Banging loudly on things while thousands of people watched was a sublime sort of nirvana for him.

  Theo had always been in it for the music. The act of creation. He liked being famous, he liked being on stage, but he loved writing music. His nirvana was the couch, with a pen, a notebook and a tape recorder.

  He felt Rei tense beside him—could see the wounded, infatuated look on his face without even needing to glance up. That was a candle that had been burning for a long time, since long before the four of them performed on a stage together, when they were still in Jet’s and Theo’s filthy living room, with the fat alcoholic next door banging on the wall because they were interrupting his very important day time shopping TV.

  Sawyer liked a challenge, though. And Rei had never had the sense to step away. He’d always been right there waiting. Pining. Wasting chances with better guys who were equally hot, but not so completely self-obsessed that they needed a mirror to eat a bagel. There was no accounting for taste.

  “Are you two sluts ready?” Sawyer demanded.

  “You’re not; you have barbeque sauce on your shirt,” Theo said with a sigh.

  “You’re not even wearing a shirt,” Sawyer countered.

  Theo indicated his washboard abs, black as rosewood in the soft hotel room lighting. “No one wants me to cover this. No one.”

  “Go on…” Sawyer fumbled. “He-man.”

  Rei and Theo both laughed. “What was that?” Theo asked.

  “I couldn’t think of a black muscly dude off the top of my head.” Sawyer muttered.

  “Mr T?” Rei suggested.

  “Luke Cage? Shemar Moore?” Theo said.

  “Black panther?” Rei added.

  “Shut up.” Sawyer flopped on the couch.

  Theo rolled lithely to his feet and went shirt hunting. He found two, one of his own and one of Sawyer’s that had somehow ended up in his wash pile. “Here.” He tossed it
on Sawyer’s head.

  “I was looking for this,” Sawyer accused.

  “Stop leaving your shit all over my room then.”

  Sawyer pulled off the stained shirt and let it fall on the floor. Theo saw Rei’s lingering gaze, magnetically drawn to Sawyer’s almost perfect white-boy tan. Too many gigs, too many days spent sleeping off the night, and it was starting to fade a bit. Not like back in Australia where Sawyer couldn’t leave the beach for more than a day without getting salt withdrawals.

  “You’re a slob,” Theo said.

  “What are we doing again?” Sawyer asked.

  “Andi,” Rei said quietly.

  “They are not paying me enough to ‘do’ Andi McNamara,” Sawyer scoffed. “Her cooch will snap shut like a bear trap, keeping me there forever.”

  Theo rolled his eyes. “Firstly, you have put your dick in more dangerous things. Secondly, I hate to burst your egotistical bubble, but I don’t think you’re her favourite.”

  Sawyer grinned. “You sure about that? She sent me those drumsticks I was lusting after for my birthday this year.”

  “The drumsticks you saw the week before,” Rei said quietly. “That you didn’t even tell anyone you wanted.”

  “That was kind of creepy,” Sawyer admitted. “Are we sure we want to do this?”

  “We don’t want to do this,” Theo reminded him. “Yanis talked us into it. So let’s just get it over with.”

  “Yeah, maybe some of them will be cute enough for a quickie,” Sawyer winked. Theo saw how crestfallen Rei looked and just sighed. How that boy managed to keep being equally disappointed every single night for all these years was a mystery. Theo was emotionally drained just watching him.

  Sawyer was first out the door and Theo took the opportunity to pat Rei on the shoulder. “Don’t let him get to you. He was born an asshole and that’s what they’ll write on his tombstone.”

  “He’s not really though,” Rei murmured. “Would we put up with him if he was?”

  Theo wasn’t sure. It was true, while Sawyer was annoying, he did have a big heart under all the narcissism. He was generous. Too generous, sometimes. Always shouting dinner or drinks, or paying for drunken strangers’ taxis so they could get home safely. He couldn’t pass a homeless person without buying them lunch and hearing their life story. However, while philanthropy was all well and good, and it was just another reason for Rei to idolise him, Theo preferred to be on time, rather than two hours late, wet and scratched because Sawyer had seen a feral kitten run under a dumpster in a rainstorm.

  “Some of us would,” Theo rolled his eyes.

  The interview was just downstairs. Andi had booked one of the conference rooms, which were on the same level as the gym, so they all already knew where they were going. It was a fancy hotel. Funny to think how far they had come—a far cry from the hot Australian summers without air con, fighting to be in front of the pedestal fan. It wasn’t that Theo felt like a phoney, exactly, but sometimes when people called him Mr Long in that deeply respectful way, he expected them to crack a smile and wink, as if it were all a big joke.

  The conference room wasn’t really what Theo had been expecting. There was no boardroom table; rather, a few couches and a side table with nibbles and drinks. It had a view over the pool which had a swim up bar and a few patrons lazily wading around, drinks in hand. However, none were the sort of person Theo would pay to see in a bikini.

  The fans were… a mixed bunch. These were not the sassy, sexy girls who were handpicked to entertain them backstage after a gig. These were the hard core fans, the ones who built websites and collated data and organised events. He was struck by the variety in age and outfits.

  But which one was the dreaded Andi? The middle aged woman built like a line-backer with purple hair? The hippy with the prematurely grey beard? The thirteen-year-old girl typing on her phone faster than the speed of sound?

  “Here.” Theo turned to find a young woman had magically materialised by their side. She was holding a pair of socks out to Rei. Which made sense, because they appeared to be Rei’s socks. The ones with the red stripes.

  Theo wasn’t sure if he should be more concerned about why this woman had Rei’s socks, or how anyone could realistically grow and maintain that much hair. It twisted around her in a dense, curly cloud—black as ravens and utterly untamed. It hung almost to her belly button, but also puffed out in a halo around her. He tried to imagine how long it must be wet and brushed straight and was almost too distracted by the complexities of any sort of maintenance routine to notice the attractively curvaceous woman underneath.

  “Uh, thank you…” Rei was puzzled. “Are these my socks?”

  “No, I brought these to replace the pair you got a hole in on Thursday. I don’t know how you can be so hard on socks.”

  “I…” Rei’s eyes were wide. “How did you know that?”

  She smiled and tapped her nose. “I’m Andi, by the way.”

  Theo sighed. “Of course you are. I’m Theo. This is…” he paused, shaking his head. “What am I saying? I suspect you know who we are.”

  Her smile widened. Under the twisted, medusa’s knot of her hair, her eyes were a gold-flecked chocolate and her skin bronze-brown. She really was pretty. He found himself smiling back, despite the sock trauma.

  “I also got these,” she pulled out a box of Chicken Crimpy shapes. Sawyer’s eyes lit up.

  “Shapes!” he snatched the box. “These aren’t even sold over here. Where did you get them?”

  “Secret,” she said, flashing that grin again.

  Theo’s eyes widened a little; he put his hand over Sawyer’s trying to stop him ripping open the box right then. “Maybe we should think twice about taking food from strangers, Sawyer.”

  “Screw you, man. I have been craving these fuckers all week. All month. You aren’t taking this moment from me.” He pulled away, taking the box of crackers with him.

  Theo opened his mouth, then closed it. Sometimes it wasn’t worth it. Actually, with Sawyer it was rarely worth it.

  “Let me introduce you to everyone,” Andi said.

  “Is…” Rei still looked uncertain, eyes flicking between Sawyer, who was now inhaling crackers, to Andi, then down to the socks in his hand. “Has Yanis been by?”

  Andi waved a dismissive hand. “I did the organising. He swung by, checked the venue, and said to call if you didn’t show up. He’s got another thing on.”

  Her familiarity unnerved him. “You talk to him a lot?”

  “More with this tour, but he always sends me promotional logos and media releases for the website,” Andi explained. She led the way toward the collection of eager fans, hips swinging. Rei snagged Sawyer by the sleeve as they passed him. Safety in numbers.

  “Should I send an SMS to Josh?” Rei asked quietly.

  “I think we can handle this,” Theo said. There were only eight fans, including Andi. It was supposed to be a casual thing. There was food. Drinks. A pile of stuff for the guys to sign—though there was less point to that with Jet off somewhere free of crazy women who knew the intimate details of their laundry hampers. Surely they weren’t so elitist now they couldn’t handle a group of web geeks alone?

  “This is Charlene—username Queenbez and Zoe—Malafor95 and that’s Keith AKA Veganxombiesaysgrains,” Andi continued to rattle off names and usernames. Some of the usernames almost rang a bell, but mostly it was a confusing and apparently illogical string of words and Theo came out of it wishing everyone had nametags. Somehow Rei and Sawyer seemed to have picked most of it up. They shook hands with everyone except Zoe—the madly typing teen—who only looked up from her phone long enough to frown, take a quick photo and go back to texting.

  The rest were a mixed bag—too shy to speak, too shy to shut up, trying to play it cool and the supreme confidence of someone who expects to finally be paid their dues. Andi expounded on the work each individual had done on their behalf as the introductions went on and Theo realised how little he kn
ew about promotion and online networking. Or web design.

  In the early days of the band, Rei had handled all the audio recording and mixing. He’d been the one with the natural gift for that sort of thing. He’d never been overly passionate about technology, but he loved to create. Not just music, but art and photography and cooking. Theo had always been the music theory guy. The one who brought some elements of class into their sound—borrowing from famous composers, introducing the others to the core elements of music theory—even when they were still just teenagers, lying on the floor in Jet’s room with the music too loud and surrounded by piles of dirty laundry.

  That had seemed like all there was to it. They made music, people liked it, and the rest just happened. For the first time, Theo realised there was a lot more to it—that a beast of this size did not sustain itself on music alone and it took even more than the roadies and their agent. It took this. These strange people who did it for no pay and no recognition—just their love and passion for the music. It was humbling.

  “By the way,” Andi asked him, head tilted up so she could meet his questioning gaze. “Did those strings you ordered arrive okay?”

  Humbling and terrifying.

  “Yes, thank you,” he said through gritted teeth. “Hey, what do you do? When you aren’t stalking the band, I mean. You sure know a lot about us, but I didn’t even know what you looked like until I walked in here tonight.”

  “Well, I did have a dog walking business, but lately I’ve been designing clothes and selling them at my sister’s store in Cali. I do a lot of back end web design and I’ve been working on coding a dating sim where you meet guys at a library based on literary knowledge, but those aren’t really ‘work’. I also did an internship at a glass manufacturer and at an organic butcher.”

  “Firstly, the fact you can efficiently dismember bodies is terrifying, and secondly, none of those things have anything in common,” Theo said flatly.