Chapter Two – A.J.
Keep dreaming like we’ll live forever.
But live it like it’s now or never.
Now or Never - Julie and the Phantoms
Even though Guilherme had warned me about the crowd being different below the Equator, nothing could have prepared me for the emotion of having seventy thousand people screaming my name as if their lives depended on it.
I was enveloped by a cloud of love, passion, and euphoria from the second I stepped on stage until the moment we bowed before leaving.
For the first time, every single song was sung by the audience at the top of their lungs, not just the ones from our second album, not just the singles, but all of them.
Our first U.S. tour lasted only a few months.
We had come from a reality show, and the expectations from the fans were high, but our first album never broke the bubble.
We kept touring the country, performing in arenas for five thousand people, who didn’t always sell out, while Guilherme and Richard worked on new songs and tried to convince Victor, the owner of Next Idol – the reality show where we met – and of the Vicious Bonds brand, to let us record them.
The turning point for this strategy to work was thanks to Daniele Almeida – my best friend and Guilherme’s sister.
Dani forced us to use social media to do what she called “connect with the fans,” and we did that for months.
We posted so many behind-the-scenes videos, show clips, and personal life updates that, over time, we started reaching the right people.
We grew gradually but explosively, and Victor responded by letting us record another album.
This album pushed us into the top 50 of every relevant chart, not just because it’s great, but because our fans made all fourteen tracks go viral on TikTok.
On the second tour, we toured the United States, went to Canada – my homeland – and spent two weekends in Mexico, with all the shows sold out.
It took us a year and a half to consolidate our career with the help of our Vagabonders and become their favorite – and healthy – ‘vicious cycle.’ Now, we’ve started our first tour outside North America, and choosing Brazil for that was starting on the right foot.
“We knew things would be more intense here, but that?!” I confess, staring at myself in the elevator mirror. “Part of me knows that it’s nights like this one that make us do what we do.”
“I think it was the place where they freaked out the most with ‘One Last Kiss,’” Thomas says as he steps away from the mirror when the elevator stops at our penthouse.
“By the way, what was that scene with Alex?” Guilherme asks as our security checks the floor.
The almost protective tone makes me stifle a laugh. If he knew what one of our friends has been doing with his little sister, he wouldn’t be so worried about the kiss I wanted to give his ex-bandmate.
“She’s hot, I thought something might happen…”
“No, you didn’t. Alexandra had already turned you down a few times,” Richard emphasizes, crossing his arms and shaking his hair still damp from sweat.
“Okay, judge a man for trying twice.” I shrug, and the security opens the door as Guilherme says, “It wasn’t just twice.”
“But it wasn’t just ‘One Last Kiss.’ The whole show… it was different.”
“Alright, let’s get inside and celebrate this night responsibly, because there’s more tomorrow, and after that!” Thomas says, pointing at us.
“This role is usually for our grumpy old man,” I remark, and Richard rolls his eyes at me. “But ok. I’ll pretend to obey everyone’s orders because today I’m in heaven.”
“It wasn’t our first show, A.J.,” Richard clears his throat as we reach the door. “Pull yourself together.”
“But he’s right, today was really different,” Thomas stands by me, even if in a whisper.
“It was Brazil, man. Today was Brazil,” Guilherme, bragging about his homeland, bumps my shoulder as he passes me and throws the door open wide.
We left seventy thousand people behind, but we still have almost fifty in our penthouse. Among the band staff and some guests from the label or ours – like Suzane, the fan I kissed today.
“Good evening, Vicious Bonds,” James, our tour manager, announces as the door slams shut behind Thomas. Everyone turns to us, clapping and whistling, only stopping when Guilherme steps forward.
“It’s no secret that Vicious had really high expectations for this show,” he says in English, as it’s the band’s official language.
“I mean, Brazil is the solid foundation of any fandom in the world.” Guilherme’s sucking up is justified, and the Brazilians in the room whistle louder, except for Alex, she just claps and smiles.
The most beautiful smile I’ve seen today.
“To face our first show under such chaos, leave an hour later, and already see the repercussion on major sites…”
“Cover of the new song!” Thomas adds.
“True. Can you believe there are already about thirty covers of a song released today? Alex, we couldn’t have had a more Brazilian, energetic, and beautiful opening act than you.”
“We really couldn’t,” I say a little too loud, and everyone turns to me with giggles while she rolls her eyes awkwardly.
“You already have a couple name online, so you better hold on!” James announces from across the room.
When her gaze meets mine, I shrug and pray Guilherme keeps talking.
“Thank you so much for giving us an incredible show, and we’re going to have an amazing night too,” our lead singer announces amid applause and cheers, and everyone disperses.
Like in a choreography, Guilherme, suffering from his ex – who was his fake girlfriend, then real, and now ex again – doesn’t even stay at the party.
He shakes off everyone until he reaches his room at the end of the hall to the left; Thomas shoves his tongue into the throat of one of the backing vocals faster than Richard heads to the bathroom with his phone in hand to call his girlfriend.
And I’m left with the task of entertaining fifty people while Suzane waits for me across the room. Her hair reflecting the ambient light, a drink in hand, and an awkward smile on her face, just the way I like it. Before I go to her, though, I need to do something else.
I cross the room, leaving backup vocalists, musicians, and even the label people in my wake with a few “Hi,” “The show was amazing,” “Thank you,” and “I’ll be right back,” and approach Alexandra, who, leaning against the division between the room and the kitchen, is eating a fried snack.
“Hello, Wallflower girl, how are you?”
I stop beside her and rest my right foot against the wall.
“I’m good, I don’t… know many people. So I decided to stick with the food,” she shrugs with a playful wink.
“You know, what Guilherme said was really true,” I comment, observing her, and she shrugs, confused. “About how we couldn’t have had any other opening act than you; it was perfect.”
“Actually, you could have,” she retorts, but doesn’t laugh, so I think she’s not joking. “I know that ‘the ex-bandmate of one of the boys’ wasn’t the first choice,” she says – and she’s right… but we don’t need to talk about it.
Because the Alexandra I know wasn’t the same girl I saw on stage during our song.
Her hesitation before starting, the way she drummed her fingers on her legs as I played, and how she never looked at the crowd made me realize that the powerful woman from just minutes before had turned into a confused girl because of a song, and starting the tour with that feeling isn’t fair to anyone.
“But you were the one there. So… do you believe in chance or coincidence?”
“I don’t know, I’ve never really thought about it,” she frowns, tossing the last piece of the snack into her mouth.
“But three in the morning is too late – or way too early – for such a serious talk. I’m going to dance,” she warns as she moves away from the wall, but I touch her hand, making her stop.
“Well, I don’t believe in those things,” I shrug, letting her hand slip from mine now that I have her attention. “For me, everything happens for a reason. If it was you on that stage today, it was meant to be you.”
“And why are you telling me this…?” Alexandra grabs a ginger beer from one of the waiters before finishing her sentence, but after the first sip, I realize she’s not going to continue.
“Maybe I’m wrong and being presumptuous, but you seemed insecure to me. I thought some feedback might be nice.” My words make the right corner of her mouth curl into a shy smile, but she nods.
“Look, A.J., since GenZ ended,” Alex mentions the teen band she and Guilherme were part of in their youth, “I haven’t sung for so many people.
I loved being on stage with that setup again, feeling the energy in the air, but that wasn’t my audience, so of course, I was nervous,” she admits, watching me, moistening her lips before continuing.
“But I assure you it was just because I’m out of practice, not because I doubt my talent or think I don’t deserve it… ”
“I don’t know if I really believe that or if I’m just letting you talk me into it…” I grab a glass from another waiter’s tray and study her face.
We toast and take a sip of our drinks.
“I told you on stage, A.J.,” Alex gives a half-smile and a slight nudge with her shoulder. “I know I’m good.”
“I’m happy to hear that. I watched your whole show. I understood a few things because Dani lives to teach me your extra hard language.” I toss my hair back while she laughs. “But even from what I didn’t understand, I really liked it.”
“Brazilian music is really awesome,” she says excitedly while I swirl my drink in the glass and watch the liquid dance under the light.
“It is, but what really enchanted me was the power of your art, of your voice.” I raise my eyes to her. “Not everyone has that.”
“Leaving that girl alone to come over and say those things to me makes me wonder where the clueless jokester who used to hit on me without even knowing me has gone…” Alexandra raises an eyebrow, crossing her arms