AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Offering Callum a soft smile, I nod. “Of course. I’ll be out there setting this up. Let’s see how much your fans love you,” I say, picking up a box full of shirts.
He grunts, setting down his bass, and jumps off the stage. Landing with a soft thud, he yanks the box from my hand. As we walk from behind the stage, we finally glimpse the full view of the crowd lining up to see them.
“That has-has to be the biggest crowd we’ll ever play for.” Callum shudders, placing the box on a table set up to the right of the stage. He swallows hard, surveying the crowd with awe, and reaches for my hand, squeezing tight.
“You’ll do amazing,” I whisper, squeezing his hand back.
His cheeks darken at my compliment, and he nods. “Thanks, River,” he murmurs, kissing my cheek.
“No problem. Now, go get ready. You have a raging crowd of four hundred people to impress. And hopefully, sell lots of merch,” I say, nodding toward the box full of their new merchandise.
I shoo Callum away with a grin, watching his retreating form. He only looks back once, reddening at the sight of me, and offers me a little wave.
So, as the boys do their thing backstage, getting their equipment set up, I do my thing at their new merch table, setting everything up.
After planning a design and chatting with the printer, we got shirts, pins, and postcards with their band name for a reasonable price. Everything’s coming together for them in the past three weeks since they sat down and got to business. It’s the first time I’ve seen them hunker down and put effort into their future as a band. Sure, they’ve played at a few venues but never invested in themselves.
Scooting the long plastic table next to the stage, I set out their merch. A few people meander over, looking over the shirts, and buy a few before the boys go on stage, explaining they can’t wait to see the show. As two hours tick by, I hear the boys’ hushed conversation behind the curtain protecting them from view. If I leaned back far enough, I’d have a clear shot of them murmuring in each other’s ears and braiding their hair.
“Telling secrets?” I quip, pulling a piece of the curtain back to reveal the boys standing in a circle. I lean my elbows on the stage that comes up to my chest and raise a brow.
“You’re nosy,” Asher deadpans, grabbing the curtain from my hand. “Back to your table, Little Brat.” I snort when he pulls the curtain closed, blocking my view of them.
“Secrets don’t make friends!” I shout, taking a few steps back to my table and plopping down on the lawn chair I thankfully remembered to pack.
My eyes roam the ever-growing crowd, mesmerized by the mass of people forming around our small area. Every year we invite popular bands to this stage, and every year they draw sizeable crowds. But nothing like this. This crowd is massive, swaying together in anticipation.
As my eyes look over the rest of the crowd, I groan at the sight of my high school enemies. Fuck. A few girls around Tessa and Sara stare in my direction with narrowed eyes before leaning in to whisper to one another. God, it’s like we’re back in high school. Hello, bitches—we’re adults now.
Each and every one of those girls was a dick to everyone else, especially me. Their fucking plaything for two years. And now, it seems I’m their target—once again. Yippy. Little do they know, I won’t roll over and be a good puppy anymore. I have more bite than bark. The sooner they realize that, the better. Because if they keep coming after me, I’m going to rip their annoying faces off.
The curtain behind me draws again, revealing a smiling Rad, glowing with pre-concert jitters. I swear he’s the damn sun beaming down, and I’m the little planet, soaking it in. Crooking a finger, he pulls me toward the stage with one finger flick. I raise a brow, leaning against the wooden structure, staring into the abyss of his dark eyes that twinkle in the dwindling sunlight.
“Pretty Girl. I’ve got a new shirt for you,” Rad says, trying and failing to hold back his grin while holding up a dark shirt that says: Property of Whispered Words.
I blink rapidly, taking in the meaning of the words scrawled across the black shirt waving in the warm breeze. Once it settles in, I narrow my eyes at the possessive fools standing above me on stage.
“Really? You want me to wear a shirt like that?” I raise a brow when Rad looks at the crowd mixed with women and men. Without hesitation, he nods with enthusiasm—or maybe it’s possession hiding behind his intentions.
“Uh, huh. Yup! Now, put it on,” Rad demands, holding it in front of my face with expectation. “Put it on, beautiful! I want to see our band name stamped over your pretty titties for the entire world.”
“It’s to keep the other vultures away,” Asher says with a noncommittal shrug. “They’ll know who you belong to.”
“Wear it to work, too,” Kieran adds, placing his guitar strap over his shoulders and settling it across his body. His fingers tweak the strings a few times, tuning it by ear.
“Then everyone will know not to talk to you,” Rad adds, freeing his grin.
“No talking to other boys,” Kieran barks with possession, curling his lip back, and eyeing all the people wandering the streets with drinks in their hands. Slowly, his eyes move over the crowd.
I blink. “Excuse me? Did I hear what I think I heard?” I huff, putting my hands on my hips. There’s no way in hell they can tell me who I can and cannot talk to. No fucking way.
“He’s right, Pretty Girl—no more boys. There are four of us. How many more dicks do you need? None. That’s the answer,” Rad says, shaking his head. “Don’t let them look at you. Here, put this damn thing on.” Rad grunts, forcing the Whispered Words shirt over my head, no matter how hard I struggle against him. Kieran chips in, jumping down from the stage after setting his guitar down, forcing my arms through the sleeves, and chuckles when I curse at them, threatening their lives.
“What the fuck, Rad?” I hiss, pushing him away as he cackles, falling onto his ass. Placing his hands on his knees, he grins more, eyeing the words across my tits.
“Perfect. Property of… It has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it, K?” Pride puffs Rad’s chest out, and he grins with satisfaction.
Kieran tilts his head when I cross my arms, giving him my meanest scowl. “Yup. Property of Whispered Words. Find a marker, and we’ll print our names on her tits. Then no one will talk to her,” he grunts, looking out at the crowd again from behind me.
