This was supposed to be a happy song, and normally when Skyler sang something happy, he’d sing it with a grin on his face. (Trevor had a suspicion that his dimples gave him magical singing powers.) But today he kept scowling at the microphone.
He’d been moody for a while. It had a lot to do with the fact that he was officially “dating” Andrea Arossi now. Not officially in the sense that those words had ever come out of Skyler’s mouth—because he’d absolutely flat out refused to say it when Maggie wanted him to,thank god. But officially in the sense that every gossip magazine on the planet had printed articles claiming it. And if they printed it, it must be true.
Apparently, fans had thought it was crazy that she’d flown out from L.A. just to have lunch with him while he was on tour (duh), so they assumed it was more than a casual one-date thing. Their management had latched on to the rumor and went with it, flying her out to meet him in a few more cities since then.
Whatever, it was fine.
Trevor knew how to handle a moody Skyler, but their producers sure didn’t. Ed kept glancing at Gary, then back at Skyler, confusion written all over his face. It was fairly obvious that Skyler was their favorite member of the band. Not only because his voice was incredible, but probably because he was normally so damn pleasant all the time, never complaining when they’d ask him to sing the same line twenty times over.
Now he was acting nothing but frustrated, and they seemed at a loss for what to do with him.
“Uh, why don’t you try it one more time,” Ed suggested cautiously. “That one wasn’t bad, but it lacked the right emotion.”
“You can just tell me it sucked, dammit!” Skyler snapped.
“Okay,” Trevor jumped in, sliding off the edge of the bed. “Could you guys give us a minute alone please?”
Gary sighed, looking at his watch, but Ed nodded and said, “Sure, that’s fine.” He grabbed Gary by the shirtsleeve and urged him out of his chair. “We’ll be in the hall.”
When Trevor motioned for Skyler to step out of the booth, Skyler gave him a pained look but did it, headphones still around his neck. Trevor could tell he felt bad for being rude. He never snapped at people like that.
“They’re going to be mad at me for making this take longer.”
Trevor walked over to him and fixed his hair so that the curls weren’t trapped underneath the headphones. His hair was getting kind of long,skimming his shoulders now. Trevor loved it, hoped he’d grow it even longer, but Maggie would probably have something to say about that.
“They’re not mad,” he promised. “They want to get this right, same as you do, however long it takes.”
Skyler was still frowning. He had this incessant need to please everybody all the time, to make everyone around him happy.
Whereas Trevor didn’t give a shit about everyone. He only cared about making Skyler happy.
He placed a kiss on Skyler’s nose, making him twitch it adorably. “What’s wrong, baby? Talk to me.”
“I’m trying to sing this song you and I wrote together aboutus, but I keep thinking of how everybody’s going to think I’m singing about some girl that I barely know and, honestly, sort of can’t stand.”
“I’m sure your fake relationship won’t last too much longer,” Trevor reasoned. “They still want to keep up your player image.”
Skyler scrunched his nose in disgust. “I don’t want to go back to that either. There’s going to be another girl after this one. And another. It’s so stupid.”
He didn’t know what to say, because it was true. So he twirled a strand of Skyler’s hair around his finger and used it to gently tug him forward so he could kiss him.
When they pulled away, Skyler was smiling.Good.Trevor would kiss him every minute of every day for the rest of his life if that was what it took to always keep him smiling.
“Anyway,” Skyler said, “I’m just being a brat because I’m tired and can’t hit the damn note.”
“You're not a brat, and I know, baby. We’re all tired. It’s okay.”
Trevor wrapped his arms around him and breathed him in. They hadn’t showered yet, but Skyler still smelled sweet like apples and honey, and the familiar scent warmed Trevor from the inside. Even tired and dirty, standing in this hotel room a thousand miles from L.A., Skyler smelled like home to him.
He wished he could do something to make things easier for him, but he couldn’t. This recording while on the road thing was taking a toll on all of them. Even Oli had been getting cranky lately. But the label was insistent that their next album be ready to release three months after this tour ended so they could book the band for the next tour. Which was ridiculous.
They had songwriters coming up with material for them, and the band was working on new songs themselves whenever they could, but they were trying to do too much at once. The label and their management didn’t care that the five of them were wearing thin, exhausting their voices, their bodies, their minds. All they cared about was squeezing as much money as they could out of them as quickly as possible.
Being in the band had always been a ton of work, but now it felt almost impossible to do everything they were asked to do, and Trevor suspected that most other bands weren’t pushed this hard. There was no room for creativity when they were scheduled so tightly.
They were still hugging when Skyler said, “We should get tattoos.”
Trevor laughed and pulled back enough to look at him but didn’t let him out of his arms entirely. They hardly had time for that right now, but he was always willing to indulge him. “Anything you have in mind?”
