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I hide my laughter behind my hand as I don’t want to ridicule them, even though it’s funny to watch. This used to be my vice too, back when …
I choke up and force myself to stop thinking about it.
That was the old Monica.
And the old Monica no longer exists.
I’m just me, and I wanna be here in the moment, living my life to the fullest. I don’t want to regret anything anymore. I just want to smile.
So I do, and at that moment, our eyes connect, and my heart stops. When he looks at me, it becomes hard to breathe. I don’t know why he has this effect on me, and why I don’t want him to ever stop looking.
He dances to the music and shows off his skills, and I can’t stop staring at those abs dripping with sweat. My body swings along to the sound of their killer track, and I realize that I don’t need anyone to have a good time. I can be here all by myself, be safe, and still enjoy the evening.
When the song is over, the crowd goes mental as the boys thank them and bow out. They walk off stage, high on the enthusiasm and cheers, and I smile at seeing Cole’s satisfied face. Heck, from this point of view, I totally understand why girls would call him handsome. He’s practically a sex god up on that stage. No wonder they all fawn over him and his music when they see him play.
Suddenly, he points at a girl in the crowd. My smile disappears.
The girl jumps up and down and runs over to the rope, which separates the crowd from the stage and waits until she’s let inside by the bouncer. My heart sinks into my shoes the moment he throws his arm around her and walks off backstage with her.
Disappointment sets in, and I reach for my phone, but I realize I never actually got his number. Fuck.
Well, he asked me to come backstage. He didn’t forget, did he? Maybe this is all a part of the plan. Maybe they’re having a backstage party, and that girl was just invited because they know each other. Who knows.
At least, that’s what I tell myself as I walk up to the bouncer, and say, “Cole Travis wants me backstage.”
The burly man glares down at me. “Name?”
“Monica Romero,” I reply.
It takes him a few seconds, but then he steps aside and pulls the rope down.
I quickly pass without giving him a second look as I don’t want to piss him off and end up getting thrown out, or worse. There’s a small corridor next to the stage, which leads into the dressing room and guest chambers. Three doors, and I guess each band member has their own room, but which one do I go in?
And am I really welcome?
“Cole?” I mutter.
No response.
I knock on one of the doors, but there’s no reply. So I check the doorknob, and to my surprise, the door is unlocked. I open it and step inside. The room smells like an intoxicating mix of vodka and cologne, a scent I recognize all too well. And judging from the black leather clothes hanging over the lounge in the back, this is definitely his changing room.
But where is he?
I walk inside and check out the bathroom, but that’s empty too. Except for a few bottles of liquor. Yikes.
Suddenly, the door handle is pushed, and my eyes widen. I immediately go into flight mode and run to the nearest closet in the room and lock myself inside. It’s stupid and plain idiotic, but if I get caught in the act of snooping, what will his band members do to me?
Michael already ripped into me for bumping into Cole. I can’t imagine what else they’ve got up their sleeve if they found me here.
Cole must’ve forgotten he invited me.
And fuck, the mere thought pisses me off …
But not as much as him slowly backing his way into this room while a girl is tousling his hair and calls him tiger.
Gross.
There’s a slit in the closet door, and it provides the only light in this cramped space. I don’t want or need to see any of the things about to take place, but what if I have no choice?
I can’t leave now. They’re right here in the room, while it looks like she’s trying to seduce him, and they don’t even know that I’m here. If they discover me hiding here, it would be the most awkward, shameful discovery ever.
I peek through the hole to see what they’re doing, but my leg itches so much it distracts me. My eyes widen. There’s a huge ass spider crawling over me.
I squeal and jump, bumping into the door, which bursts open, with me dropping out like an unwanted guest. As I flick the spider off me, I look up and stare straight at two bewildered people who were still hugging each other.
