Destroyed (Lost in Oblivion, #3)(70)

Simon shook his head at the drug reference. Gray made them all the damn time and there was always a little sparkle in his eye about it. Fucker. “No shit, man.”

Nick nodded to him. “This guy wants to do ‘Careless Whisper’ before ‘The Becoming’.”

Gray draped his wet towel over his neck. “Really?”

“The Seether version.”

“Oh.” Gray stretched his hand above his head and rolled his shoulder. “That could work.”

“I have a cello piece for that.”

Simon turned to Margo. “Yeah?”

“If I did it all classy and low and then Nick or Gray came in with the huge guitar opener—I think that would punch it up even more.”

“I like it.” Simon waved at Deacon. “Big D, Pix—c’mere.”

Jazz tucked herself under Gray’s arm and stole his towel. She had a babydoll top made from a bra and sparkly sheer material over her belly and hot pink bike shorts. How she made that work, Simon would never know, but it did. Her outfits always did. Give Pix enough time and she’d have a maternity wear clothing line made up, for f*ck’s sake.

They argued over the opening and closing of the song for two minutes then they were all rushing up the stairs to do the encore.

The sun was setting along the skyline through the trees and people were screaming for them. On their feet and losing their minds as they all got to their places.

The stage went dark and Margo stood in the diffused light, drawing her bow over her cello in an eerie rendition of the sax parts from the iconic Wham song. Their spot guy, Randy—Harper’s brother—was the most intuitive guy he’d ever seen.

The moody blue lights softened to white at the end before he blinked over to Simon. He kept the opening verse of the song soft and smooth like the original and then Nick and Gray both came up and powerhoused the guitars, Jazz joining in on the drums until the entire arena was screaming.

Simon followed Deacon as he always did. He turned his voice into a growl and forced himself not to tense. The ginger had done its job and relaxed the tickle in his throat.

He stalked across the stage and dropped to his knees in front of the first row as the song ended and they did a medley into “The Becoming”.

By the time they’d finished that song and ended on “The Boys are Back in Town”, the pavilion was completely off their feet and every bit of rehearsal had been worth it.

“Fuck, yeah!” Simon yelled and they all came forward for the bows.

That was the way to do it. They all waved and scattered for backstage. Part of the fan package was a meet and greet afterward. There was a pile of records waiting for everyone that had come.

All three hundred of them would get a signed copy and picture with the band.

Simon ran for the showers and steamed up the whole house. His skin was still slick from sweat and he didn’t want to think about how much bug juice was on him from all the f*ckers he’d swatted at.

But he needed it.

And as his vocal chords opened, he breathed a sigh of relief. He was getting the hang of this professional singer shit.

Maybe, just maybe he’d have it all figured out.

He met everyone back at the room they’d corded off to control the crowd. Six huge boxes were lined up behind them. A flag version of his jungle gym archway was tacked up on a huge accordion-style divider.

Lila, being Lila, had a professional photographer there with equipment. And another videographer was following around Jazz.

She’d upgraded from an iPhone to a little handheld camera that indie directors used, for God’s sake. It was unreal how different it was to go from opening act to headliner.

Margo was off to the side, her huge dark eyes taking in everything. So much a part of them and still so separate. At first, he’d pushed to include her, but she seemed to like to be on the fringes.

She wore a sheer long skirted dress that reminded him of a ballerina with tight leggings under it. And over it was a scarlet bit of nothing that matched her f*ckable mouth.

Christ.

He forced his eyes away from her.

She was already so different from the woman he’d met in the studio that long ago summer. She smiled more, her shoulders didn’t look so tense, and goddamn if she wasn’t the sexiest thing he’d ever seen.

Lila clapped. “All right, guys. You ready for the first wave?”

“Are we allowed to say no?” Nick asked.

“Um…no.”

Nick gave a gusty sigh. “Then let the games begin.”

The first group of twenty poured in, definitely averaging high on vaginas, but he was glad to see some dudes.

They wrote their songs to cover both sexes, but women were the ones that usually wanted the backstage packages.

He shook out his bracelets and rolled his shoulders as a pair of Barbie dolls headed his way. Ready for vapid squeeing, he was surprised to get a natural smile from the unbelievably pretty sisters.

Maybe it wasn’t going to be such a long night, after all.

“Hi, ladies.”

“That show was so amazing. I can’t believe you guys did that for the fan club. We’re so freaking excited.”

“Well, get in here and get that excitement all over me,” he said with a waggle of eyebrows.

By the time he’d smiled and hugged his last set of fans, he was ready for another shower, and his head was pounding from the mix of perfumes and colognes.