Kind of Famous - Mary Ann Marlowe Page 0,54

played the opening riff, then sucked on his teeth like a baby.

After a little more discussion, Shane gave a real count off and kicked off a rhythm at the same time Rick started a bass line. Noah’s fingers flew across his guitar while he lifted a foot in a step he never took. Micah strummed his guitar and then cupped the microphone with a pick lodged between his thumb and forefinger. Then he began to sing the first verse.

Chills.

Sure it wasn’t a real concert. When they performed for an audience, they more than brought it. They’d made a name for themselves for their surprising and interactive live shows. When I saw them at the amphitheater outside Indianapolis, Micah jumped off the stage and went back to the vendors and bought a beer—while he was still performing the song. Shit like that made them unpredictable and fun to watch.

This was a whole different world. If I wanted to, I could have walked right over there and touched them. They could see me. Micah winked right at me, and I wanted to squeal.

I was a sucker for lead singers. Often beautiful, but always charismatic, they made everyone in the audience want to be them or have them. Micah was no exception. He’d always been a favorite of mine, although nobody could hold a torch to Adam for sheer sex appeal.

Noah went to town on a crazy lick and reminded me why I’d crushed so hard on him for so long. There’s nothing sexier than watching a man seduce the hell out of the neck and body of a beautiful piece of wood. My whole life, I’d been a guitarist girl.

But there was a drummer hiding behind all of the glitz, and when all was said and done, I wanted to go home with him.

I’d somehow become an insider for the time being, and my mind followed that trajectory to the possibility of one day getting this kind of access to Walking Disaster. It wasn’t likely, but the possibility was there, when it hadn’t been before. Like I’d gotten five of the six lottery numbers and just needed a little more luck for that last one to click into place. If I played my cards right, I could maybe even get backstage passes. I could be the envy of every fan girl on the interwebs.

I let those asshole thoughts have free rein until I hit the limit of my imagination, which involved revealing myself to my fan site family as someone with legit connections to the band and not simply a girl with a website who hid behind anonymity and fear.

Contact fame wasn’t my true end desire, but the temptation lurked. What I really wanted was right here. I got to be a private audience of one and hear this incredible band put on a show for me.

I didn’t want to normalize this experience because I knew I was nothing more than Cinderella at the ball, and at midnight, my life would revert to normal. All these Prince Charmings would stay in their castle. I didn’t have a glass slipper to lose.

I pulled my knees up under my chin and listened, head bobbing to the beat. Speaking of the beat, I zeroed in on Shane who kept the rhythm so perfectly, he disappeared into the background. Occasionally he’d do something fancy with the high hat, but mostly he banged and banged and banged.

Like he had the night before. Ba-dum-cha.

He made eye contact with me for a moment and twirled the stick around his knuckle, catching it in time to bring it down again. I clapped my hands together, and he grinned.

If only he’d done it shirtless.

At that thought, my heart beat in the wrong part of my body. Pulse. Pulse. Pulse. The term heartthrob suddenly made perfect sense. The discomfort was almost too much to bear.

Once the song came to an end, I made sure the camera kept rolling. The song they’d played was cool, but fans would worship me if I could share the interactions between songs. Fly-on-the-wall stuff. I wouldn’t miss that for anything.

Micah said, “Noah, tighten up the solo after the bridge.”

Noah kept his eyes on the neck of his guitar as he plucked the strings. “In due time. I’m not in much of a mood to jam today.”

“Not asking you to jam, Noah. I’m asking you to work out your shit before you get here.”

Noah didn’t respond or bother to even acknowledge Micah further.

“And Rick, you’ve got to bring

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