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He kisses her again, the motion seeming energetic and frantic, right before he shouts with the same amount of fervor, “Fuck! I love you, Alyssa!”
“Wait. What?” Alyssa pauses for a moment. “Rhys, did you just say that—”
“I love you,” he repeats, before kissing her for what seems like the millionth time. “I love you so much, darling. I’m sorry for letting it come out like this. I know I probably should’ve timed it better, especially since you’re totally naked and you were in the shower with another guy—”
“I love you too, Rhys.” She smiles over at him before she shoots a sly look over at me, too. “I love you both. More than anything. So much.”
“Holy shit, did you guys see the numbers for Billboard?” Cameron asks as he steps inside the bathroom.
“Okay, I’m starting to think we’re going to need to set up some ground rules for privacy,” I suggest as I look around the room. “How about this? If one of us is in the bathroom with Alyssa, the rest of us back the fuck off?”
“That doesn’t sound very fair,” Cameron muses.
“Cameron’s right.” Rhys smirks. “But nice try, Van.”
“Fine!” I roll my eyes as I reply. “Then how about this? The rest of you go celebrate somewhere else while I try and finish taking a shower?”
“Sounds good to me.” Rhys nods and wraps a towel around Alyssa, already steering her toward the door. “Come here, darling. There’s this wine I want you to try.”
“And after that, maybe we can watch some footage from our concert video?” Cameron adds. “I want to see if there’s anything we can improve on for next concert. Not so much you, Alyssa, but the rest of us. There’s nothing worse than not having a dynamic stage.”
“Oh, come on, Cameron,” Rhys whines as he turns the corner with Alyssa in tow. “Do we have to work? Can’t we just have a night to celebrate?”
“That kind of complacency is always a nail in the coffin, Rhys,” Cameron calls out, close behind the two.
And I can’t help but lightly chuckle to myself. I increase the water pressure in the shower, now feeling warm from the water and from the satisfied feeling bubbling up inside of me, an undeniable sense of pride and joy seeping right down to my bones.
* * *
I wakeup to the sound of screaming.
Clamoring?
It takes me a few moments to crack open my eyelids, sleep slowly pouring away from me as I toss and turn on the living room couch. Alyssa’s arm is wrapped around my waist, with Rhys fast asleep on a mattress thrown onto the floor, and Cameron not too far away from him on a mattress of his own. I can’t remember too much of what happened after I got out of the shower last night, the rest of the evening dissolving into a party of various wines, with pairings of cheeses by Rhys. Despite not being able to remember too much of anything, I know that I’m probably the happiest I’ve ever been, having Alyssa right beside me and the guys I’ve called my best friends for years sprawled out on the floor.
Honestly, it feels like I’m living in a dream.
I then turn my attention to the sound coming from the windows, seeming to only get louder the longer I listen to it. I gently move away from Alyssa on the couch and walk over to Rhys’s windows, trying my best to stay quiet as I step through the apartment. But when I peer down at the huge crowd of people on the sidewalk, it takes everything in me not to let out a surprised shout, warning bells going off at the back of my head.
“What the hell?” I murmur. I bring my hands up toward the glass, almost in disbelief at the size of the crowd. “What the hell is going on?”
I squint to get a better look at the faces in the crowd, wondering if I’ll be able to recognize any of them from the window. But as far as I can tell, the crowd is a mix of screaming fans and what looks like paparazzi, their cameras already poised to snap a million photographs. A few seconds later I spot a separate set of people standing in the crowd, with middle fingers held up toward the apartment, angry looks spread all over their faces. They’re clearly Geesha Riley fans, sporting her familiar logo on their T-shirts, one of them even wearing what’s probably a replica of her signature half-moon necklace.
“…Uh, Rhys?” I say, before I turn back toward him. “Put some clothes on. I think you need to see this.”
“See what?” Rhys shoots straight up from the mattress, as if he’s been awake the whole time, quickly pulling on his jeans. “What’s going on?”
“There’s a bunch of people standing out on the sidewalk and I have no fucking idea what they want,” I reply. “It just…sort of seems like a mixed bag. I can’t tell if they’re here because they love us or want to set us on fire.”
“Why would they want to set us on fire?” Rhys scoffs. “Who would want to set the number one band in the country on fire?”
“People who hate us, I’m guessing,” Cameron murmurs as he pulls his phone out of his pocket. He then goes quiet for a few moments, his finger scrolling down his screen.
And then, his mouth falls wide open.
“Fuck!” Cameron says, quickly scrambling to his feet. “Fuck!”
“What? What is it?” The alarm bells in my head ring even faster than before. “What’s going on?”
