“Okay, wait,” Reagan said, leaning close to the laptop screen and squinting at a leather-encased ass. “Whose camera is this?”
Dare laughed. “Considering that all we’ve seen so far is Max’s ass, I’d say it’s yours.”
“I didn’t know you stared at my ass onstage,” Max said, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. “Is there something you’d like to share with the group?”
“I don’t stare at your ass!” Reagan insisted.
“It’s not Reagan’s feed,” Toni said. She’d checked the label several times to be sure. She snorted and covered her mouth with the back of her hand.
“Then whose is it?” Max asked, looking rather green around the gills all of a sudden.
“It’s Logan’s.” Toni burst out laughing.
“What the fuck, dude?” Max roared. “Why were you staring at my ass?”
“I wasn’t!”
“I think his camera was on crooked,” Toni said.
“Likely story,” Max grumbled.
They all turned their heads and squeezed their eyes shut as the camera focused directly on a spotlight overhead.
“Turn it off,” Steve said. “I want to see mine. It has to be better than this.”
“I just need a minute of good footage for each of you,” Toni said. “I’m sure there’s something usable on here.”
She fast-forwarded through half a minute of blinding-lights footage and then they were back to staring at Max’s ass.
“Turn it off!” Max insisted.
Toni replaced the SD card labeled Logan with the one labeled Steve. The recording of Steve rising from the stage was kind of cool, with his drum kit in the foreground and the arena coming into view behind it. But when he started to play, it was another story entirely.
“Pass the Dramamine!” Reagan shouted, sticking out a hand to block her view of the screen. Drums and sticks seemed to be flying at them in all directions as Steve banged his head to the beat while he played.
“Dear lord, Steve, do you ever hold still?” Dare asked. He swallowed hard and crinkled up his face in disgust.
“Some of us work hard for a living,” Steve said.
“Maybe we should try putting your camera on a stand behind you,” Toni said. “That way we can see you in action without giving ourselves whiplash.”
“That could work,” Logan said. “And you can put my camera on my bass stock so it’s not cockeyed and making it seem like I’m staring at Max’s ass.”
“You were staring at it,” Reagan said with a laugh. “And we have photographic evidence.”
Logan reached over and grabbed her knee, squeezing until she was bucking and laughing uncontrollably.
“Why don’t we see what Reagan’s got?” Steve suggested. “Since she’s so insistent on mocking the rest of us.”
“We don’t really need to watch two feeds of Max’s ass.” Toni winked at the man attached to that ass.
“Hey,” Reagan said, “there isn’t anything better to look at from the back of the stage.”
“Oh really?” Logan said, twisting his head to try to look at his own ass. “I’m pretty sure I’ve got it going on in the ass department.”
“If that’s what you need to believe to help your self-esteem,” Reagan said.
Logan grabbed her knee again, squeezing repeatedly until she bucked her giggling self off the sofa. “Boy crazy,” Logan said. “Not that we’re surprised.”
“So we want to see Reagan’s next?” Toni asked.
“Hey, guys, sorry to interrupt,” Butch said from the dressing room door. “Can I see you on the bus for a minute?”
“All of us?” Dare asked.
“Uh.” Butch’s gaze fell on Toni. “Just the band.” He considered Logan for a second. “And not Logan.”
“Not Logan?” Max asked.
“It will take just a few minutes,” Butch said. He backed out of the doorway and disappeared around the corner.
Toni and Logan, exchanging puzzled looks, watched the others leave the room.
“Why didn’t he want to see you with the rest of them?” Toni asked.
Logan shrugged. “They’re probably planning a surprise party for my birthday or something.”
“Isn’t your birthday at the end of October?”
“Yeah, well maybe it’s a big surprise.”
He didn’t seem too concerned about being excluded, so Toni shrugged the oddity off.
“Do you think we should put cameras on all the instruments to get shots of your fingers moving?” Toni asked. “That might be interesting for the book.”
“Dare’s fingers, maybe, but mine just kind of go back and forth like . . .” He demonstrated playing two chords over and over again.
“So we’ll get shots of the audience with your bass cam.” She grinned at him. “If you can keep it off Max’s ass for a few minutes.”
He poked her in the ribs and she jerked sideways.
“You know what you should do?” he asked. “Get audience members to wear the head cams in a mosh pit. Since you’re too scared to crowd surf.”
She was definitely too scared to crowd surf.
Toni gave him a tight squeeze. “You’re brilliant! Yes, I should totally include that.”
“You’re the brilliant one,” he said. “You came up with the camera idea in the first place.”
She laughed and kissed him on the chin. “And I never would have thought of it if you hadn’t made me watch your cliff-diving and bungee-jumping experiences.”
“Not sure how covering your eyes in horror is considered watching.” He smirked at her.
“See, if I can’t watch, there’s no way I’d be able to do it myself.”
“Just like you couldn’t skydive?”
“You threw me out of that plane, Logan Schmidt.”
“So I guess I’ll have to throw you off a bridge sometime.”
“You have to get me on the bridge first.”
Logan glanced around the room, looking a bit lost without his bandmates surrounding him. “Do you want to watch Sinners tonight?”
Toni clapped her hands together excitedly. “I would love to.” She hadn’t had the opportunity to watch Sinners perform a show yet. She’d been too busy collecting material for her book, and the hour before Exodus End performed always seemed to be the most hectic of her day.
“We’d better hurry. I think they’re starting soon.”
Logan led her through several corridors and into the arena. A few stagehands lit their own paths with flashlights, but otherwise it was dark behind the stage. Before Logan and Toni reached the wings, the lights flashed on and the unmistakable wail of Brian “Master” Sinclair’s guitar started the intro of their first song. Toni dashed up the stage steps, not wanting to miss anything. The rest of the band joined the guitar, and then Sed Lionheart screamed out his trademark battle cry.
Toni cheered with the rest of the crowd, her heart thudding with excitement. Several lines into the first verse, Sed’s voice cracked and he lowered his mic midverse. The rest of the band fell silent, first the guitars, then the bass and drums. His bandmates looked to Sed for direction.
“You okay?” Trey asked into his microphone.
Sed nodded. “From the top.”
His eyes sparkled brightly in the stage lights, but he quickly squeezed them shut.
“What’s going on?” Toni asked Logan, who shook his head and shrugged.
The song started over again. Lead guitar followed by rhythm, bass, and drums. Sed’s battle cry. This time Sed didn’t even make it through the first line before he lowered his mic and turned his back to the crowd. He rubbed his eyes with one hand and took several deep breaths. His three guitarists quickly surrounded him, talking to him out of range of the mic, patting him comfortingly on the back or arm. Nodding and gesturing, they seemed to come to some consensus, and Sed turned back to the agitated crowd.