“So, we are here with Two Way Street,” the DJ, Cooper, purred confidently into the mic. “Whose opera themed song, Opening Aria, hit number nine today. How does that make you feel, Owen? I believe it is your composition?” His voice belonged to a sultry leading man with smouldering good looks, but his face was that of a middle-aged science teacher, Emily thought, and wondered how many of his listeners were disappointed when they saw the promotion pictures that went with their favorite DJ.“All our songs are written by Owen,” James said, at full charm. DJ Cooper wasn’t immune to the drummer’s appeal, his interest more than professional, Emily observed, and was certain from the blush on James’ cheeks, that the DJ had slipped him his number in the break. “Until he walked into our band practise, we were just a cover band lacking a lead guitarist.”“And Owen, of course, brought in Emily as well,” Seb added.“Opening Aria was a bit of a joke, to be honest,” Owen answered the DJ, flushing unde

“I am not entirely sure about this outfit,” Emily tugged at the bodice of her top, though it was a losing battle. The amount of fabric involved meant that tugging in one direction, revealed more skin in the other. “Uh-ah, no touching,” Peter the stylist batted her hands away. “No yanking, no tugging, no touching.” He tossed his dead straight, long bleached and perfectly toned white-blonde locks over his shoulder. She suspected it was a lace-weave wig expertly applied, but no amount of discreet scrutiny revealed his hair secrets to her less-than-expert eyes. If it wasn’t a wig, she thought, the man had the best head of hair that she had ever seen. “No bouncing, no jumping and no breathing,” she repeated by rote his instructions as he had dressed and glued her into her clothing. She did not know the secrets of his double-sided tape, but she suspected that she would not have to wax those areas of her body anytime in the near future once the clothing was removed. “And no reaching above

In the morning, as she stepped out into the kitchen, Seb was at the coffee machine. “Not you too,” he shook his head in stern disapproval as he pushed a pod into the opening and waited for the machine to work. Owen met her eyes across the kitchen bench and raised his eyebrows. “Seb has a strong opinion about morning exercise,” he explained. He was dressed for a run but had apparently paused to have a flick through the daily newspaper on his way as it was open on the bench in front of him. “I have a strong opinion about all exercise,” Seb corrected, turning and resting his hips against the kitchen bench, cupping his coffee in both hands and blowing on it to cool it. “Other than the horizontal sort.” “If you do it in the morning,” she explained, stooping to adjust a shoe. “It is over and done with for the day.” “It depends entirely on what you mean by ‘it’,” Seb winked lasciviously. “I have no objections to certain physical activities in the morning, afternoon, or evening.” “You we

The band was divided between two tour busses, these ones slick and expensive looking inside and out, a sleek, glossy modern black with Two-Way Street emblazoned in yellow script on the outside. The band stopped and gawked as they got out of the taxis. Roadies wearing black tshirts with Two Way Street in the signature spray-paint looking script on their backs and chests moved busily between the two sleek busses and the less glamourous support vehicles that would accommodate the tour’s support staff and equipment. “Daddy, does this mean we have made it to heaven?” James wondered, saying what they were all feeling. This tour was no expense spared, the contrast to the last stark. “It sure does, Jimmy, it sure does,” Jeremy answered. “Or at least we have attracted the attention of hell. But I, for one, am happy to sign on the dotted line in blood if this is a sign of what is to come.” She was already in hell, Emily thought wryly. The sexual tension between her and Owen was so electric

In the crowd, a familiar voice called her name, and she turned instinctually towards it, smiling. Something soft was thrust into her arms, and she met the man’s dark eyes, the smile falling from her face at his vulpine expression. “Who-?” The crowd jostled against the barrier, and he let it push him back so that she caught a flash of a grin before he disappeared. She looked down at what he had placed in her hands. She already held a bunch of flowers, and some other oddments fans liked to give her. This was a teddy bear, but… The stitching down its stomach had been cut open, and the soft white fluff within and the fur around it was stained a brownish red. There was something brownish red stuffed inside… “I will have that, thank you,” Aaron snatched the teddy out of her hands and dropped it into a plastic bag, which he ziplocked and passed to his PA. He put his hand on her back. “Keep going, Em, smile,” he encouraged. “Smile, Em.” Her expression had caught Owen’s attention, although