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VAN
Another hour passed, and the concert was wrapping up.
Stepping back into the VIP room, I shoved my personal feelings aside and got back to work.
By the time the band took their final bows, hydrated, and got their makeup touched up, they were ready for interviews.
The band walked into the room and waved at everyone, then took their seats on the periphery.
Brodie’s eyes caught mine, but I quickly turned away, not wanting to draw attention.
I recognized one reporter from rehearsal day. Beau… something. From Channel 10. He and his cameraman were talking. When he noticed me, he walked over and offered his hand.
“Van, good to see you again.”
“You too, Beau. You’re up first.”
“I loved your performance. You really wrote those lyrics?”
I nodded, flustered. This is exactly why I preferred to work backstage. “But this isn’t about me.”
I motioned for Beau to follow, and we headed over to the band.
“Guys, this is Beau from Channel 10 Entertainment News.”
I stood guard as the reporter greeted each member and set up their shot.
Beau looked at the camera and nodded. “I’m reporting live from the Orpheus Theater where America’s hottest band, Wayward Lane, finished up their year with a Halloween concert, and all to raise funds for a New Orleans charity. Guys, tell us about your experience tonight.”
Beau turned to the band members, and each, in their turn, told him what they loved about the city and the show tonight.
“You also performed a new song with your manager, Ivan Cross, and it’s exploding on social media. Can you tell me more about your relationship with him?”
Brodie’s face darkened, and I braced myself.
“The response to the song was just what we hoped for,” Brodie replied calmly. “Next question.”
Beau glanced at me, and I hardened my stare. Thankfully, Beau didn’t push any further and pivoted to other questions.
I was enormously relieved. Normally, Brodie wouldn’t hesitate to snap at a question he didn’t like, but he was restraining himself.
Once Beau was done, I waved in the next journalist.
Beau turned to me with a wide grin. “I’ll be working the afterparty. Buy you a drink there later?”
I was caught off guard for a second but quickly found my footing again. “Thanks, but I’ll be working.”
“Or maybe after?”
I didn’t miss the flirty tone or the once-over he gave me. A year ago, that would’ve gone right over my head.
“I appreciate the offer, but I can’t.”
He glanced at Brodie and then back at me, a smirk on his lips. “No worries. Have a good night.”
I nodded, then turned my attention back to my phone. I perused the band’s socials, and Brodie’s in particular.
The speculation about who I was to him was running wild through social media, and there was nothing I could do about it. The best thing was to say nothing. Like any news, it would soon be eclipsed by another story. We just had to wait it out.
