“I like her. I really like her. The opera is a unique aspect, and she fits your aesthetic better. Okay, shall we run through it again, this time recording?” “Yeah.” Owen released her and moved back to his microphone, picking up his guitar and slipping the strap over his head. Yes, Emily thought watching him, the girls were going to love him. Big, built, blue eyed, dark haired, with a face a poet would love, Owen was made to be leading man material. They ran through the song several times, and then Owen, Emily and Seb stepped out so that James and Jeremy could go through the track with just drums and bass. “Come on,” Owen caught Emily’s hand in his and led her into the control room. It was a narrow space, with a couch pushed against the back wall, and a window looking into the main room. Before the window was set the mixing desk and a chair in which one man sat. Two other men in matching branded t-shirts supervised other equipment, talking between themselves, and adjusting the mach

Emily followed Owen up the stairs and when he paused beside the driver’s seat to take in the layout and chaos before him, she looked around him nervously. It was not a large bus, and it was very full of men, the sight was rather intimidating, although she suspected that Owen had paused in appreciation rather than intimidation. He was living his dream of touring with a rock band, after all. “Isn’t a tour bus a bit… Eighties?” She murmured. Aaron had arranged the tour bus and driver. She had not even known such a service existed, but, as she stepped up into the bus, she could see it was popular – the carpet and upholstery showed a lot of wear and there was a faint smell to it, beneath the shampoo the company had used to clean the fabrics, that was reminiscent of a teenage boy’s bedroom – old gym socks, body odour, and cheap aftershave spray. Towards the front of the bus there was a mini kitchen, very similar to a caravan from the seventies, the veneer on the doors chipped and peeling

Megan answered on the first ring and did not bother with a greeting. “Did you get some hot ex-sex on the bus?” “Good. A bit.” Emily flushed, and shot Owen a glance from under her eyelashes, wondering if he had heard. Megan’s phone voice was strident. “He is next to you, isn’t he?” “Yes. We are at the first venue, grabbing something to eat at the bar. We have a couple of hours to eat, shower, and get ready.” “You nervous? Or did your hot ex-sex work that out of your system?” “A bit.” Emily could feel the heat burning up her face. The last thing she needed, she thought, was Megan instigating a conversation between Owen and herself that, whilst overdue, would be poorly timed, seeing as they were about to commence their first performance, on the first concert date. “This is going to be one of those conversations where I say all the words, and you answer in monosyllables, isn’t it?” Megan sighed irritably. “What do you think is sexier? Red lace, or black sheer with diamantes? Oooo, e

Emily caught Owen’s eye mid song and exchanged a grin. This was their largest crowd yet, and the audience was loving it. The energy feedback was pure adrenaline and looking down upon the upturned faces surrounded by a blur of light, sound and movement was intoxicating. There were moments, she thought, when she could see the potential to become addicted to performing, to the screams of the crowds, to their adulation. Watching Owen perform was one of the sexiest things she had ever seen. He loved the stage, working it and the audience as if he were born to do so. His hair clung to his face in sweaty curls as he leant over the guitar, and the white t-shirt he wore was plastered to his body with sweat, reminding her of the wet-t-shirt photo shirts featuring hunky firemen. There was a magnetism to him during a performance that made her stomach curl with lust, and she was not alone in that. The women loved him. Not a gig went by that he did not leave with dozens of coasters scrawled with p

“I managed to find someone who recorded that,” Jeremy hung over the aisle to speak with them. “I will load it onto social media.”“Awesome,” Owen grinned.The flight was quick, and as they waited for their luggage Owen’s phone rang.“It is Aaron,” he said as he answered it. “Hey. We are just at the baggage carousel… Seriously? That is like… Thanks… Okay. Thanks.” He hung up and looked around at the expectant faces of the band. “There are cars waiting for us out front, and some guys to help with the gear.”“I will go,” James was all but bouncing in excitement, his hair falling free of the messing half-ponytail-half-bun that he had caught it back into and his blue-grey eyes alight with his energy. “I will find them and bring them here.”They had just begun retrieving their luggage when he returned with four men wheeling flat trays. Within a short amount of time, they were following them back to where a stretch limousine waited alongside a van. Their luggage was loaded, and as they slid