24. What’s JBF hair? #3
The selfies with the fans at the Canal and the stalker pic from the restaurant patron were splashed all over socials by the time Hannah and Colby headed to the venue for the show that night.
Captions like Cutest couple in music history.
And Looks like a hell of a “night before,” judging by those smiles at breakfast and fan comments like “The rest of us will never achieve this level of perfection” And “It’s no longer will-they-or-won’t-they.
They have, and they are” filled his screen, and Colby didn’t feel as icky as he had in the past when this ruse started.
It was becoming normal, and having confessed the lie to Hunter probably helped.
Hannah had spent the day in his hotel room, helping him write the new song and giving him feedback on the melody. She was particularly helpful with the bridge, which he always struggled with. And then they accidentally took a nap. Together.
They were taking a break, lying side-by-side on the bed and talking when the binge drinking and restless sleep from the night before caught up with him and his eyes just closed.
She must have been tired too, because when he woke almost two hours later, he was curled on his side, and Hannah’s hair was tickling his cheek as she was tucked in as his little spoon. And it was… nice. Fine. Good, even.
“Saw Hannah coming out of your room with JBF hair this afternoon,” Trevor said in the back of the dark SUV that Ford had rented to get them to and from the venue.
Ford was driving, Colby was in the passenger seat, Trevor and Kenner were in the back, so he didn’t miss the way Ford’s eyebrows shot up. He ignored it. “What’s JBF hair?”
“Just been fucked,” Kenner supplied helpfully, and Colby wrinkled his nose.
“Trevor, I dare you not to be a locker room pig for like one day,” Colby responded. “And she fell asleep while we were working on a song. That’s why she looked like that.”
“Yeah, I figured it was something lame like that,” Trevor replied. “I mean, I bet you don’t fuck good enough to mess up anyone’s hair.”
Kenner chuckled, and Colby lifted his hand and flashed them both the bird. “Sorry,” Kenner mumbled.
“But I snapped a pic and put it on Insta Stories anyway because it did make you look like a stud,” Trevor replied, and Colby’s head snapped around.
“What? No, you didn’t.”
“Yeah. I did. This is me helping the cause, bro.” Trevor held up his phone, and there it was, a shot of Hannah closing the door to his hotel room, her hair mussed and her cheeks a little pink. Trevor had written under it Some bandmates have all the luck.
“Take it down. Now. Fuck! Ford!”
“Take it down, Trev,” Ford said sternly, but Colby saw a hint of a smile on his face. “Leave the PR to professionals from now on.”
“That makes her look bad, you know that, right?” Colby snapped. “Fuck, why are you like this?”
“No, it doesn’t. She looks like she’s got a boyfriend. A nice, sweet one who doesn’t know what JBF hair is. That’s the fucking point,” Trevor argued. “And relax, it only got… a couple thousand views.”
Colby groaned. He wanted to punch Trevor, but he closed his eyes and took a deep breath instead. Kenner tried to make it better. “It was a douche move, but that’s what people expect from Trevor. And most people don’t believe anything he posts is real.”
“Yeah. Thanks,” Colby muttered.
“Yeah. Thanks,” Trevor repeated sarcastically.
At the venue, Colby went straight to Hannah’s dressing room.
She always got to the venue before them.
He knocked, but the door was cracked, and he could see her sitting in a chair having her hair styled by Desi, her backup singer, who also did her hair and makeup.
She caught him through the mirror and smiled. “I saw Trev’s little snap.”
“Not cool, and I got him to take it down,” Colby told her, slipping inside the stark white room with a shitty couch and a bunch of folding chairs. In the corner was a table with protein bars, fresh sliced fruit, electrolyte drinks, and a bucket with beers for the musicians who backed her.
“The bigger problem is your room number is visible, so you’re gonna have to switch rooms,” Hannah told him. He hadn’t even noticed that.
“I’ll switch with Trevor. Fuck him. He can handle any unwanted guests.”
Hannah lifted her eyebrows so high that Desi had to stop applying eye shadow. Colby read the look. “Fuck, right. He’d just invite them in and… okay, fine. I’ll switch with Ford, and he can blame Trevor if he gets disturbed.”
“Better plan.” She winked at him in the mirror, and he smiled. “I’m really not bothered. Maybe now the bad boys I usually attract will take the hint and stop hitting on me. Because I’m helpless to their shitty version of charm.”
“Bad boys?”
She nodded, and her eyes looked haunted. Colby felt his heart swell with sympathy because Hunter wasn’t a bad boy, but he was definitely someone Colby was helpless around in ways he shouldn’t be. “Knock ’em dead tonight, beautiful.”
“You too, sunshine.”
He walked down the hall to the room with his band’s name stuck to it and checked his phone. He wondered how Hunter was doing. Was he spiraling? He pulled up their text thread.
How’s things? Miss you.
He stared at the message, and then he deleted it and went to Venmo.
He saw Hunter had accepted the cash he’d transferred while eating breakfast earlier.
He went back to the text chain. He stared, fingers hovering over the keypad, and then he closed the text chat and shoved his phone into his pocket.