Page 3 of Animal Beats

I don’t care what the police or reporters do.

2

HAYDEN

Irelax in the bubble bath, enjoying the peace and quiet. The fact I’ve left the United States for the first time should bring me joy, but my obligations at home weigh heavily. At least I enjoyed the months I had there on the U.S. leg of UC’s tour. Working remotely for these past months was a godsend.

My sister loves her school, and it was great being able to spend as much time with her as I did. I miss her now, but it’s not like I had any choice. Being one of two members of UC’s PR team meant I had to join this leg of the tour, since my co-worker did on the first part. At least I’m only getting positive reviews from my sister’s teachers. Working this leg over here will pay me enough to ensure she remains where she’s so happy. I shoot her a quick text, telling her I’ll FaceTime her later.

Next, I exchange texts with my best friend back in Los Angeles. I met Renata in college and we rarely miss a week without touching base. I sink into the heavenly bubbles.

The music playing from my cellphone is interrupted by the arrival of an alert. I suck in my breath and sit up, the water sloshing over the side of the tub. Careful not to get my phone wet, I click on the notice, praying it’s something as simple as the media caught Bennett and Jenna out for a stroll.

My idyllic afternoon is cut short by the headline. “Río Sullivan, UC’s Drummer, Causes Naked Riot at the Trevi Fountain.”

Seriously?

Out of all the band members, Río’s the most unpredictable. Two of these words sum him up perfectly—“Naked” and “Riot.” What the hell did Río do now?

Closing my eyes, I blow on the previously soothing bubbles, watching them disappear. With ingrained determination, I search for the local station and press call, ignoring the fact I’m as naked as Río apparently was. A person speaking Italian picks up.

Time to put my online classes to work. In my mind, I translate I’m with Untamed Coaster, and I’m calling about River Sullivan. Taking a deep breath, I send up a prayer that I got this right. Here goes nothing. “Sono con Untamed Coaster, e sto chiamando per River Sullivan.”

The Italian that comes back to me is too fast for me to understand. Damn Río! Please speak to me in English. “Mi dispiace, English?”

The officer switches to English. “We are in the process of booking him.”

“What did he do?” This time remains unspoken.

“He caused a group of Italians and tourists at the Trevi Fountain to scream and jump, then he took off all his clothes and went swimming. Followed by a part of the crowd, who pushed through our barriers and did not pay the visitor fee.”

My eyes close. Seriously? My fingers rub against my temples. Once in custody, he better have kept his big fat mouth shut, like the PR team drills into the band’s thick skulls every chance we can.

“He also told us he was paying all the fines.”

Guess he forgot our one simple rule. “So you have him at your location?”

“Sì. It will take about an hour for us to process him.”

“Fine. I’ll be down to the station to handle any paperwork. My name is Hayden Vaughn, and I work for the band.”

“You have your hands full. Good luck.”

Río literally swam naked in the Trevi Fountain? What’s next? Bungee jump off the Eiffel Tower? I stand, my soothing bathwater flowing down the drain. As I walk to the bedroom to get my clothes, I decide to call Luke. I’m going to need the band’s manager with me to handle this mess.

He picks up on the second ring, his voice cheery. “Hey, Hayden.”

I hate to ruin his beautiful Roman holiday, but duty calls. “I’m not sure if you’ve seen the local press, but Río’s gotten himself into some hot water.” I pull the phone back. Or lukewarm water, depending on how hot the water in the Trevi Fountain is. “He’s been arrested and is at the police station.”

“Río is where?”

I repeat the terrible news. “I’m sorry to bother you, but I’m not sure I’ll be able to handle this one all on my own. I mean, I guess I could, but the police told me he started a riot and agreed to pay everyone’s fines for swimming in the Trevi Fountain. Oh, and he was naked.”

With a furious yet dejected tone, Luke replies, “I’ll be right there.”

I text him the address and get dressed. Without a clue as to what to wear to a Roman police station, I choose a safe pair of black trousers and a white button-down shirt. This will make me look professional as well as approachable. I hope.

Why didn’t I take the US-leg assignment? Nina Fisher, the label’s PR head, asked Tracey and me which leg of the tour we wanted. Because I was still juggling everything from my parents’ estate, and I needed to remain close to my sister for as long as possible, I let Tracey go first. Of course, I had plenty of work to do for the band—especially with what went down with Jenna Hardy—but I was able to do it from the comfort of my own home.