While I wait for Daisy to get back, I check the email I received from Steve. It contains a quick brief of when the tour will be happening and the locations. There’s a long list of my expected responsibilities. I’ll be working under the tour manager and will be assisting whenever I’m needed, and it all looks mostly like running errands and menial tasks, nothing complicated. I look at the tour stops, and basically, if I agree to take this job, I’ll be travelling across the country and into the next and the next…I’m already getting excited even before I see my pay. It’s a per-day wage and by the time I’m done with the calculation, I’m fighting the urge to just call Steve back right away and let him know I’m in. With what I can make on this gig in the first four months and what I’ll get on the truck, I’ll be able to cover at least three-quarters of Daisy’s surgery cost. The rest shouldn’t be so hard to make up. I’ll ask Mum if there’s a payment plan we can–My thoughts grind to a stop

By the time it’s ten o’clock, the bar has lost its restaurant-y vibe and now looks more like the drinking hole it was meant to be. My companions have also adhered to the change of atmosphere, and all dishes have been cleared from the table to make way for more drinks. When I came along, I thought this was going to simply be a dinner with maybe a little more drinking than usual, but as everyone kept asking for more drinks, it’s slowly turned into a drinking party. Nobody seems to be in a hurry to leave, and I wonder whether this is how their dinners go normally.I usually don’t mind free drinks, but there’s one problem here.I was hoping to have Ben to myself by now. The longer I sat next to him during dinner, the higher my anticipation got. Having him close to me but not being able to touch him was a stimulation of its own kind. But once the drinks started pouring in steadily and the place got louder, that spell got broken. Maybe that’s also because for the past ten minutes, he has

I can hear him. I can. But nothing he is saying makes sense. So I ask, “What?”Ben takes a step towards me, and I step back. He rakes a hand through his hair. “I didn’t know how to tell you…” He bites down on his lip. “I didn’t want to hurt you…I don’t want to hurt you–”“What the fuck is going on?” I demand, wanting him to tell me straight away. What didn’t he know how to tell me? Why the fuck did he run away?“I told you to wait six months.”I gulp. “So you don’t want me here.”“It’s not that I don’t want you–”“I asked you,” I remind him, jabbing a finger in his direction. “That night I called to tell you about the offer, I asked whether it was okay with you and you said yes.”He scrubs his hand over his face. “I wasn’t going to tell you to not take the job, Isaac. You need it.”“Wow.” I think it’s beginning to sink in. Ben doesn’t want me to go on tour with them. But I’m here anyway, because he said he didn’t mind. And now he is saying me being here changes nothing. “You have to

Hey. I can do hey. Hey is what casual, platonic friends, do.“Hey,” I reply, my eyes flitting past him and towards the back of the stage, where Keri and Ray are bound to be. “I gotta g–”“How’s your first day going?” he asks, not-so-subtly stepping into my path and lifting an eyebrow. “Fine,” I tell him. And fight the urge to give him a once-over. I already know he looks good. Just because I’ve been avoiding any contact with him doesn’t mean I haven’t been watching him. Today, he looks absolutely mouthwatering in black skinny jeans and a black t-shirt–like always. His long hair is loose, strands blowing into his face every now and then. Making me want to push them away, sink my fingers at their roots, pull him–I clear my throat and fix my gaze somewhere above his shoulder. My eyes fall on Ashton. He is standing with Jack, who’s flipping a pair of drumsticks in the air. He’s fiddling with his guitar strings–other than being the lead vocalist, he also plays the rhythm guitar. And his

He climbs down from the couch, and I get into a sitting position. Does he really think I’m interested in Adam?He moves to one of the chairs along the dressing table. There’s a bag lying there, and he rummages through it. When he turns back to me, my gaze zeroes in on the condom in his hand.Wait.Is that…Is that what he meant?“I don’t have lube,” he says, his hands going to his fly, “but we can improvise.”He wants to fuck here?“I don’t think this is a good idea,” I say.“Why not?” he asks, walking forward. He brings down his zipper and shoves his jeans down to his hips. My breath gets caught somewhere in my throat when I see the bulge in his boxers. “This is what you want, right?”Yes I do, but I came here to talk, and I don’t like the fact that you’re doing this because of some baseless jealousy, and I also don’t really want to do it in some dressing room–He pushes his boxers out of the way, and his semi-hard cock is suddenly in my face. “Cat got your tongue?” His hand sinks in