was really fun tonight. I got into the audience to record footage. I’m pretty sure my toes will never be the same after being stomped on dozens of times, but I think I finally get it, why every Exodus End show sells out. It’s because when you’re in that audience looking up at them, in total awe of their talent, you don’t feel like you’re just watching. You feel like you’re a part of them.
I’m so in love with their bassist.
In love with the band.
In love with this job.
I hope it never has to end.
Toni
May 15
Dear Journal,
It occurred to me today that I haven’t heard from Susan since that meeting in Denver. I guess that means she’s given up on taking my job. Not that I’d ever move aside for her—this is where I belong.
Tonight I’m putting head cams on all the band members so we can get a first-person perspective of what it’s like onstage. I’m really glad we bought extra cameras for the crew. This is going to be amazing!
Logan and the band are currently at some bar grand opening in downtown Dallas. Apparently it’s a big deal. I probably should have gone, but I’m burned out on promotional events and I know they are too. I’ll go to the after-party tonight, though. I have some new clothes to show off. Not sure how Reagan talked me into that leather corset, but it’s really cute. Jace Seymour’s girlfriend—Aggie—embroidered strawberries all over it. I’m going to wear a jacket with it because my boobs are so out there in that thing, but it’s definitely the most daring article of clothing I’ve ever worn in public.
I’m off to do some work now while I have a rare moment to myself. I have a ton of footage to sort through and will be collecting even more tonight.
Overworked-and-loving-it,
Toni
Thirty
The lounge door slid open, and Toni dropped her phone. She fell to her knees on the carpet, hunting for it.
“What’s going on in here?” Logan asked, grinning at her.
“Just face chatting with my sister.” She’d been caught acting silly, and her face flamed with embarrassment.
“Oh. It sounded like you were watching The Princess Bride.” He entered the room uninvited and settled on the sofa.
“Not watching it. Reading it. It’s Birdie’s favorite book.” Actually, as far as her sister was concerned, it was the only book. And since the road trip from Dallas to Albuquerque was so freaking long, Toni had plenty of time to read it to her.
“There’s a book?”
Toni laughed and picked up her phone, dusting off a few crumbs.
Birdie smiled when her face came back into view. “I thought you was lost.”
“It was a book before it was a movie,” Toni said to Logan. “Don’t you read?”
“All the time. Menus. Road signs. Text messages.”
Toni picked up the used book she’d purchased at a truck stop and shook it at him. “I meant books.”
“Is that Logan?” Birdie asked.
“Yep. He didn’t knock, did he?” Toni turned her phone so that Logan came into view in the corner of the screen.
Birdie beamed. “Hi, Logan! Mom let me use her phone. Now Toni can read to me and I can see her.”
“Awesome. She can read to me too.”
“No, she cannot,” Toni said, her cheeks blazing again. There was no way she was letting Logan see her acting like a complete fool on purpose. He got to see her acting like one accidentally far too often as it was.
“Please, Toni,” Birdie said.
“Please, Toni,” Logan mimicked as he slid a hand up her thigh out of view of the camera. She caught his hand before it disappeared under the leg of her sleep shorts.
“Sit over there.” Toni shoved him so he’d move out of reach. She didn’t want to become an inferno of insatiable need in front of her little sister. After she hung up? Well, that was another matter entirely.
“Only if you promise to read to me.”
Mr. Grabby Hands reached for her boob, and she smacked his hands away.
“Fine!” Toni said. “But you can’t laugh at me.”
“Can I laugh with you?”
“Birdie, it’s time for bed,” Mom said from out of sight on the other end of the line.
“Not yet,” Birdie complained. “Toni is still reading to me.”
“Five minutes.”
“Hurry, Toni!”
Toni wasn’t sure if she could do this in front of Logan. She took a deep breath and said in her best Cheech Marin impression, “My name is Meee-ster Featherface. You keeled my cheeek-ken, prepare to die.”
A strange snorting sound came from Logan’s general direction as he tried to