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“You won’t. They know you now, like they know Ellie. You’re part of the Razes Hell family.”
That was true. Ellie and I had been in so many band photos, we were old news. I’d never been in a shot with just Jason though. Often the photos were of all of us at a gig, helping to set up, or just generally messing around.
“That’s a pretty cool place to be,” I said, as Jason tucked his phone away and we started the walk back to the hotel.
The walk seemed to take forever, because Jason and I kept stopping to look at the views, to marvel at the city, and… we may have stopped off for a beer in a bar close to the hotel. It was close to midnight when we reached my room, both of us still laughing over some of the things we’d seen on the way.
“Thanks for an excellent couple of hours, Lucy. I’m looking forward to more evenings like this.”
“Me too. That was a lot of fun. And we get to go back again tomorrow.”
“Looking forward to it.”
I slipped my arms around Jason’s waist and gave him a hug. As he wrapped his arms around me, he kissed the top of my head. “Goodnight, Luce.”
“Night, Jason.”
I was on top of the world – higher than the Eiffel Tower – as I threw myself down on my bed. That was a night to remember. I heard my phone beep in my pocket, and I pulled it out, laughing at all the notifications on the screen. There was a long list of tweets since Jason shared our selfie. Some of the comments were hilarious, but even more were just generally friendly and sweet.
@OfficialJasonBrooks @luluhayes Aww, have fun guys!
@luluhayes Will you be climbing @OfficialJasonBrooks’ tower tonight? ;) LOL!
@OfficialJasonBrooks @luluhayes Get in there my son!
@OfficialJasonBrooks @luluhayes Enjoy Paris! See you in Vienna!
@luluhayes You’re so lucky to be in Paris with @OfficialJasonBrooks! Enjoy!
There were over seventy replies, and I favourited a few of them as I scrolled through.
Razes Hell were lucky. They didn’t really get jealous fans who tweeted shitty comments. They had their share of fangirls, but they weren’t as obsessive the Directioners or the Beliebers. Urgh. Did knowing those terms make me a loser? Were there still Beliebers?
When I was done reading, I placed my phone beside me and let out a happy sigh. The tour was off to an excellent start and there was so much more to come.
Chapter 4 – Swoony McFangirl
I was right. The Eiffel Tower was definitely still magical in daylight. Going back with the whole band was fun, and even though we had to get in a huge queue with what looked like a million other tourists, it was worth it. The views over Paris from the top were magnificent. My breath was stolen again as I turned around, taking in every angle of the beauty. More selfies were taken, and I truly didn’t think I could be any happier.
This is just day one. Day. One.
Unfortunately, we couldn’t spend the whole day exploring Paris because we had to head to our first gig venue in the afternoon to set up and sound check.
Clubs in Paris are very much like clubs in the UK. Or at least, the first venue the band played was. A darkish room with brick walls, giving it a cold, underground feel. The stage was a good size, and the dressing room was tiny with a tile floor, adding to the coldness, and few facilities. There was a toilet and an ancient shower, and a mini fridge full of cold water. The furniture looked like a bunch of people had just offered random bits of their old stuff from their houses. There was an ugly patterned sofa, and four armchairs, all in different colours.
And I thought my hotel room was drab.
I wasn’t sure of my role when we got to gigs. Was I supposed to help them carry things? Or just stay out of the way and… I don’t know… deliver drinks to the roadies? When I asked Drew, he laughed. “It’s up to you, Luce. If you want to help, you can, but you don’t have to. If you want to wait backstage and write, that’s fine.”
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“Maybe I’ll just watch and write for today. When I know what the heck I’m doing, I might be more useful.”
He laughed. “Okay. Go grab a seat, and get used to seeing this happen almost every night for the next month.”
I smiled, wondering how soon I’d get bored of seeing beefy men lugging heavy equipment. As I clocked one of the Parisian men who had been roped in to help, his biceps straining against his t-shirt as he carried a heavy speaker, I figured it would be a while until I tired of this.
Instead of heading backstage, I moved to the back of the bar and sat down beside the sound desk. There was nobody around and I could easily move if I was in the way. I pulled my journal and pen out of my bag and rested them on my lap while I watched as my friends, plus a bunch of people I didn’t know, started setting up the stage. It was a lot more complex than I’d imagined. There were so many things to be set up, not to mention the tuning up of the instruments which would happen a little later.
