Chapter Two – A.J. #2
“He’s somewhere here, I’m a complex man with layers, you know?” I mock myself, making her laugh. “But where I come from, people are used to promising you the world, handing you crumbs, and still making you feel like you don’t deserve it. That’s why it bothered me to see you insecure.”
“Oh my God, where are you from?”
“From a not-so-great place in the industry,” I comment with a sigh and put my biggest smile on my face. “Anyway, no more insecurities from now on, okay? I hope our fans get to enjoy you for as long as they can.”
I drink half of the sparkling wine from the glass and lower my foot to step away.
“Talking about it… You're the one who enjoys the fans…” She stops me with the comment. “Is this whole kissing thing just to have someone at the end of the night?” she asks, pointing to Suzane sitting on a pouf and fiddling with her phone.
“Not always… and ‘One Last Kiss’ isn’t just about…” I try to speak, but Alex cuts me off.
“About you getting off the stage and fulfilling your fans' teenage wet dreams?”
“Are you jealous of them?”
I tease her, just for the fun of it.
“Jealous?” Alexandra stares at me as if I insulted her mother. “You walk around kissing anyone . Do you really think I want to be them?”
“Yes. But let’s give time a chance…”
“Yes, grandpa, take your medicine.” She brings the glass to my mouth, and I hold back a laugh. “Meanwhile, go enjoy your fan who’s dying to kiss that mouth of yours.”
Alexandra throws her hair in my face, leaves the beer bottle in my hand, and walks to the makeshift dance floor, where she joins a few other girls dancing to very suggestive Brazilian songs.
I look away when she works her hips all the way down to the floor because it’s an image I don’t even want to imagine.
I finish the rest of the sparkling wine before setting the glass and her bottle on another tray that floats on the shoulders of a waiter.
Walking between dancing bodies, I head toward the shy and lost girl on the other side.
But just a few steps before reaching Suzane, visibly irritated with my delay, I’m stopped by a tall, dark-haired guy with glasses who’s part of the team, but I don’t know him yet.
“You’re coming with us,” he warns and pulls me by the arm.
I shrug at Suzane and let myself be taken by him because you can’t say no to men that my best friend would define as an Ali Hazelwood character.
We stop, forming a circle with the redhead from sound, holding a blue drink, and our lighting tech, hands empty and completely awkward.
“I wanted to ask you something,” the tall redhead shoots. “How did your tradition of kissing fans start?” she asks, seductively playing with the straw of her drink.
I shake my head at her before looking back to see Suzane alone over my shoulder.
“Yeah, A.J., how did this tradition start?” The voice behind me, stepping into the circle, keeps me from stifling a laugh. Alexandra stops beside me and takes a sip of another ginger beer.
“I’ve told this story a million times…”
“But I’ve never heard it!” the tall guy protests.
“I’ve never heard it either, A.J.,” Alexandra taps my chest and pouts, mocking the situation.
“As I was saying…” I throw my arm around her waist, teasing, and notice that she wasn’t expecting this. “I’ve told it many times, but I lied in all of them.”
“Didn’t I say so?” The lighting tech, Joanne, glares at the redhead.
“Sorry, what’s your name?” I ask the curious girl, caressing Alexandra ’s back on the dress’s neckline, and she tenses, giving up on teasing.
A shame, because I could do this all night. I take her almost non-alcoholic beer as retaliation.
“Pietra,” the girl responds, offended, and I understand why.
We’ve already hooked up, and she thinks I’ve forgotten her name. I didn’t, I just pushed it aside because there’s no way I’m saying it without my accent making it sound ridiculous.
“Well, the first time the band played the song for an audience, it was one of our first shows, there were about five thousand people.”
“Wow, quite a small show,” Adam Driver 2.0 says.
“For me, that’s a pretty big crowd,” Alex comments, laughing. “But go ahead, A.J.”
“A very beautiful girl caught my attention during the show. It was impossible not to sing directly to her, touch her hand sometimes, and when ‘One Last Kiss’ came on, she held up a sign that said ‘A.J., give me one last kiss?’ And I wanted to, so I kissed her,” I say, shrugging.
“Wow, that’s a hot story,” Pietra smiles at me as if I were all alone.
“Why don’t you ever tell the truth?” Alexandra asks, confused. “It’s cute.”
“Because Victor likes me to make it a big deal. That I say it was an impulse, at a huge show. He likes to sell me as the reckless guy in the band and make people believe that ‘there’s A.J. for everyone,’” I joke, taking a sip of Alex’s beer.
“And is there?” Adam Driver 2.0 asks, and I lower my neck to look at him.
“You’ll be on tour with us for the next three months, you’ll figure it out.” I wink at him and return Alexandra ’s drink, who’s in shock, before waving goodbye and turning toward Suzane.
Finally, I’m going to have some time with my girl of the night.