Chapter 7
SEVEN
I now understand the jokes and looks we got last night when we mentioned not having our schedule yet.
Our label demanded an early morning meeting, and we are all nursing coffee and Red Bull while sitting around the glass table in our management’s skyscraper, facing off with two women and a man—Mrs. Noel, Miss Wilson, and Po Freen, our new manager.
We have only been here an hour, and my head is already pounding from an information overload.
We are used to doing our own thing and being in charge of ourselves.
I knew it would be an adjustment, but I never realized how much.
What we wear and eat will be decided by them, not to mention what we perform and when.
We have lost a lot of artistic control, but the trade-off is their expertise, money, and help, so I swallow my protests and smile.
There are a lot of bands out there that would kill for this shot, so we have to grab it with both hands.
We need to sign our updated contract, and until then, we need to behave.
Everything else was such a rush that this is one of the first official meetings we are having.
Fox sits to my left, Dash is to my right, and Strike is next to him.
The people across from us are wearing suits and dresses, while we are in band shirts, jeans, and shoes.
We probably look how they imagined we would, and the same could be said for them.
They have been nothing but welcoming though.
“Do you need a break or another drink before we carry on?” Po asks before sharing a look with the two women at his side, who are going to help him manage our band. Apparently, he will be with us from now on. If we need anything, we go to him.
He’s a few years older than us, with glowing dark skin, a buzzed head, an 80s tash that he somehow makes work, and a power suit.
I don’t know how he’ll fit with us, but he seems to have adapted already.
It’s clear he’s good, which is what we need.
We need someone willing to do what it takes to get us to higher levels and who has the connections and understanding that we lack.
“I’m good. Do you guys want anything?” I glance at the others as they shake their heads. Dash’s eyes are wide, staring around at all the awards, Strike is fighting sleep, and Fox is taking notes.
“Good, okay. So you have the house now, but if you need anything added or changed, just ask me. You have your new phones, and we have taken over your socials. Just run everything past me, remember?” I nod, and he smiles.
“Good, so let’s move onto your upcoming schedule.
We have taken the liberty of planning this year so far.
We can adapt when needed, but we would like to keep as many of the events as possible.
Right now, you’re trending, and we need to keep that hype up.
That means shoving you into the public eye at every chance and giving them what they want.
” He clicks a button on his laptop, and the screen loads with a timeline that makes my eyes widen.
“I know it looks terrifying, but I swear it’s manageable.
It’s actually calmer than some wanted it to be, but I want to make sure you enjoy your music.
However, it’s about finding a balance between work and events and keeping you relevant.
It won’t be easy, but I know you guys understand hard work or you wouldn’t be here. ”
My eyes stay wide as he runs through dates and events for the entire year, down to when we can have days off or time away, which is very rare. He goes over a social media marketing strategy next and then looks at us.
“As for music, when can we expect a new album?”
“Uh . . .” I blink, feeling Dash and Strike looking at me, but I’m still stuck on the schedule and trying to remember what they want from us.
“We would need time to work on it. As the schedule now stands, there isn’t much. Could we review it and put a plan in place for this and then answer?” Fox takes over, and I give him a grateful look. He winks at me as Po grins.
“Absolutely. Great answer. If you promised me something immediately, I would be worried,” he admits.
“Okay, so the heavy stuff is out of the way. I know it’s a lot, but I’ll be on the other end of the phone for any questions.
We know this is all new to you, and there will be a transition period, but we are here to help you.
Now, we’ve done this a little backwards, since we moved so fast, but here are your updated contracts.
The ones you signed before were just to get you in the label, but this is the finalized one.
Please review them and sign, and we’ll get going. ” He slides one across to each of us.
“Going where?” Dash asks.
“A photoshoot,” Po responds with a smile.
“For PR and promotion. It’s just a general one.
Don’t worry, it will be fun. I’d also like to film some TikTok videos and reels before you go so I can schedule them for the next two weeks.
Of course, as discussed, feel free to film anything that comes up and then send them to me so I can edit and approve before we post. I already have some ideas for you, Fox and Ryker. ”
“I bet,” Strike scoffs. “Oh, can we do a dancing one? I always see them on my page, and they look like fun.”
“You can’t dance for shit.” Dash grins, nudging him as I turn the first page of the contract, half listening as I scan the legal shit, although I don’t understand most of it.
If I thought the schedule was insane, it has nothing on our new contract.
“Do you understand any of this?” Strike whispers to Dash.
“Nah, just sign it,” he replies as they scribble their names.
After reaching the last page, I lift my pen to sign when one of the final clauses catches my eye, and I drag them up, meeting Po’s.
“Yes, Ryker, you have a question?”
“This last clause . . .” I point at it, unable to look at Fox or the others, even as I feel them staring at me. “I don’t understand,” I finish, unable to say it out loud.
“Oh.” Po opens his copy, scanning it for what I’m referring to. “Ah, that. It’s a typical clause we have. We know it probably isn’t needed, but it’s better to be safe than sorry. Basically, there is no dating within the band. It just prevents excess drama or breaking up if something goes wrong.”
“We are prohibited from dating?” Fox frowns.
“Just each other. Anyone else is fine, though we do ask you not to promote your relationships for a while, since your selling point right now is your sex appeal and availability.” Po winces.
“Damn, our love is out,” Dash teases Strike.
I nod, glancing back at it then Fox. He meets my gaze, his eyes holding a million questions I can’t answer. He waits for me to make up my mind. Turning away, I sign my name before I chicken out or second-guess myself.
We aren’t dating anyway.
It’s just an act.
When he signs, though, it hurts.
Forcing a tight smile, I shut my contract and slide it back. “So what now?” I ask, unable to look at Fox.
Whatever we had was extinguished with that signature.
We can be nothing more than bandmates now.
Po wasn’t joking. Dash and Strike filmed four videos while we were looking over the proposals, actual proposals, for ours.
“Are you okay with that?” Po asks for the tenth time after we review the next one. “With pretending to kiss?”
“It isn’t anything we haven’t done before,” Fox scoffs, but he’s been quiet, shaking his head every now and again. I guess he feels weird seeing how we need to act written out. Usually, we do what we feel, but now we are doing what they are telling us to so fans can ship us and create rumors.
“Okay, then let’s film the first one.”
Nodding, I head over to a white booth, followed by Fox.
We have been to hair and makeup and even wardrobe, which took hours.
Fox’s eyes are darkened so much, his bright orbs pop, his blue hair is perfectly messy, and his lips are painted deep red.
He has on a choker and so many rings, they clink as he moves his fingers.
He wears leather pants with white writing and drawings all over them, and they are tucked into metal boots.
His shirt is black, the sleeves are rolled back, and only one button is fastened so most of his chest is exposed.
It’s a good look, but I want to reach out and smear Fox’s makeup to make him look like my Fox, not this perfected version of him.
I wear matching pants with a thick belt and chains. My shirt is mesh, with safety pins down each side and the front, and it shows more skin than fabric. My eyes are lined, my lips are pink, and my hair is swept back.
“Okay, are you guys ready?” Po calls as they turn on the lights. It’s blinding, and I glance around nervously before meeting Fox’s eyes. He smiles reassuringly, and I take a deep breath, nodding to him and Po.
“Okay, three, two, one . . .” He goes quiet, and I dramatically turn away from Fox.
His hand grips my chin, and he drags me back to face him as I breathe heavily.
For a moment, I stare into his eyes and beg him to kiss me.
His head tilts as if he actually will before he looks at the camera and grins, covering the lens with his hand and pushing it away.
I turn my head so he doesn’t see the disappointment in my gaze.
“Amazing! One more take,” Po tells us. “That was so good, guys. Ryker, this time, keep your eyes on Fox. Don’t look away. He’s your entire focus.”
Licking my lips, I nod then glance at Fox. He rolls his eyes but moves back to the starting spot, and we run it again.
“Amazing! You guys are so hot! Next!”
The next video is supposed to look like it was captured naturally, so Fox stands by the snack table, browsing it as I hold the phone and film myself walking over.
I lift my fingers to my lips to shush the audience as I sneak up on him and kiss his cheek.
He turns, looking from me to the camera, feigning shock and shaking his head as I go to kiss his cheek again, only for him to turn, then I catch his lips before running off while he shouts my name.
We shoot three more videos before Dash and Strike join us, and then we film some quick band reels.
“Okay, awesome, onto the photoshoot! The photographers will be here in a moment,” Po calls. “Just act naturally. You all have amazing charisma, so I told them to capture you however you guys want. Just be yourselves—flirt, laugh, or joke. Let’s get some incredible shots!”
We get a ten-minute break, where I shovel down some food before we are told they are ready. I glance at the others who look just as nervous as I am, so I straighten my shoulders.
“Do those little cameras scare you?” I tease them as I grab Dash in a headlock.
He struggles and laughs, and I hear the cameras snap as Strike leaps onto my back to try to save Dash, while Fox watches us before wading in.
He plucks Strike off me and drags me away from Dash.
My back hits his chest and my head tips backwards, an involuntary response, before my eyes meet his as his arm bands across my chest. I search his face, everything else fading away as he looks down at me.
The flash of a camera brings me back to the present, and he starts to pull away, but I want this.
If this is the only way I can have him, then I will take it.
He might think it’s for the cameras, but I don’t care.
Turning in his arms, I cup his jaw and press my forehead to his.
“I like the outfit,” I murmur. “It makes it easy to do this.” My hand slides down his throat and into his shirt.
He shudders against me, his eyes widening at how brazen I am, but it’s almost as if he forgets the cameras, his own hand sliding down my spine before gripping my ass and tugging me closer.
I shiver, and goosebumps erupt on my skin.
My gaze drops to his lips as a strong urge to taste him courses through me. He tilts his head, ready to kiss me.
“Amazing, the chemistry is so incredible!” someone remarks, and we break apart, both of us suddenly remembering where we are.
Fox moves back to Dash and Strike as the camera continues to snap. I watch him the entire time, wondering if he would have done it if they hadn’t called out.
I flirt with Fox, giving him lingering touches and looks that I hope he knows are real. I wish I could tell him, wish I could be like this, but now our contract prohibits it.
This is the only way I can have him.
It will have to be enough.