Chapter 1 – Lumen
Chapter One
Lumen
Three Months Later
Being on tour is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. The crowds are insane, and the fans are intense, but in a good way. They’re mostly at the shows to see Liminal—the headliner—but Theo’s band, Tangled Desires, has picked up some hardcore fans from the first few weeks of the tour.
The last couple of months have been a whirlwind to the point it almost feels like a fairy tale.
Packing up our entire apartment was easier than expected, since we had the money to hire movers, but I almost had a panic attack when I broke my lease.
Theo lived with me nearly the entire time I had that apartment, but we never put him on the paperwork due to his bad credit.
Because of that, it’s solely my legal responsibility to pay back the astronomical fees for breaking the lease mid-contract.
Though, Theo did promise he’s going to handle it once he gets his first tour paycheck, which should be soon.
For a while, I was struggling with the idea that he might be using me for my songwriting abilities, but things have been great so far, and it’s a relief.
Since I’ve mostly paid the bills for the last year, he said it’s his turn to take over and spoil us, and he’s done exactly that.
Not that he was a freeloader or anything. Theo always chipped in from what he made from his shows. It just wasn’t consistent enough to count on to pay the actual bills.
Before the tour took off, we spent a week at a fancy hotel in Miami. It ended up being the perfect little reset for our relationship.
It’s taken some work to get accustomed to traveling all the time and living out of a bus—there really is zero privacy—but I’m looking at it as an adventure.
The hardest part for me is not knowing what to do with myself while Theo has to engage with fans. As a bonus, I’ve met some of the musical greats, which is hard to do without looking like a starstruck fangirl.
It’s tough, but I dial back my reactions because I don’t want to make Theo look bad. I have backstage access because of him, after all.
Being on tour with Liminal, we had to sign an ironclad NDA. I’d think not gossiping about your coworkers would be common courtesy among musicians, but I’m not part of Tangled Desires, so I get it. Although, Theo and his bandmates were pretty salty about it.
Liminal isn’t fully anonymous, but they do wear masks for some performances. Apparently they’re just super private, which I can respect.
Sometimes I wish Tangled Desires had taken a similar path. If Theo and the guys went fully unknown, they could have a life outside of shows without worrying about fans or the paparazzi recognizing them.
It hasn’t been a problem yet, but I can see it coming.
The masks are a whole gimmick. So far, we’ve seen Liminal perform with and without them. The fans are way more feral on the nights they’re masked, and the band even wears them backstage and at the after-parties, which the ladies love.
I’m one of those ladies.
Their masks are incredible, but knowing what’s underneath makes them even hotter.
I’m eventually going to ask for their autographs. I’ll probably wait until the novelty wears off so I don’t embarrass myself, though.
Watching Tangled Desires practice doesn’t bore me like I’m sure it would some band girlfriends. It’s exciting at first, but then the bickering kicks in, and it loses some of its shine. The guys are always yelling at each other because someone came in late or somebody else played off-key.
I’m used to it by now, but I still enjoy watching them practice because they’re my creations that they’re bringing to life.
I sit at one of the small tables, half listening to them and half in my head. They’re going to need an entirely new set of songs by the end of the tour, and if I have a few done early, they’ll be able to try them out during their sets.
Since they’re the opening band, their set is only forty minutes. They have the practice space for an hour and a half, but it only takes about fifty minutes to run through their set.
“Are you ready to go?” Theo comes over, tossing his arm around my neck and kissing my temple. “I’m starving. I’m about to track down the catering truck.”
The tour has its own catering department with a food truck to serve the bands healthy meals, so they don’t opt for junk because it’s easier. The food is actually really good, but I’m not hungry.
“You guys have the space for at least another thirty minutes,” I tell him, tapping my pen against my notebook. “I think I’m going to mess around on the instruments and see what I can come up with.”
It’s convenient because the acoustics are set up for live performances, so I’ll be able to tell how it’ll sound live, and when I test things out later on the bus, I’ll have a better idea of how they’ll sound in the studio.
“You sure?”
“Yep.”
“All right. Just make sure you keep your badge on you in case anyone gives you trouble.” He pecks a final kiss on my temple and jogs off to join his bandmates, who are all heading out.
Is it wrong that I wish he would have offered to keep me company?
Maybe suggested that he could help by playing while I handled another instrument?
I’m sure I’m overreacting, but it does get under my skin a little, and it’s stupid.
I’ve never been afraid to be by myself. With Theo’s career taking off, I’m going to need to get comfortable doing my own thing.
It’s already bad enough that I feel like the naggy girlfriend who came on tour to make sure her boyfriend couldn’t cheat on her.
Shoving out of my chair, I take off for the stage. This music isn’t going to write itself. I’ve thought a lot about what my future will look like once Theo meets his omega.
If I’m lucky, maybe I can impress the record label with my songwriting and composition skills. If not, at least I’ll have once-in-a-lifetime memories to keep me company at night when I go back to my normal life.
I’m in the zone, humming the verses that I haven’t mapped out yet, when two massive security guys appear in front of the stage.
They’re frowning, and it feels like I’ve done something wrong, even though I know I haven’t.
“You need to put the guitar on the stand and come down here,” the man on the right says.
My mouth falls.
If they weren’t wearing the venue security polos, I’d be worried.
“This is my boyfriend’s guitar.” I let the instrument fall to hang from the strap around my neck and lift my backstage pass. “Theo from Tangled Desires is my boyfriend. I’m working on something for him.”
My face twists into a grimace.
Shit.
Hopefully they don’t communicate with the label directly.
Not that anyone would automatically assume that I’m saying I write their songs.
“That’s fine, but you need to clear out,” the guy on the left says. “Now. Liminal is waiting for the space.”
Horror rips through my chest.
Did I lose track of time?
Holy shit.
Ripping off Theo’s guitar, I put it on the stand, scramble down the stairs, and grab my things.
Only…
I didn’t run into their time at all.
“Come along,” one of the men says from behind me. “The techs are waiting to swap out the instruments. You have to go.”
Jesus.
It isn’t like I’m fighting them.
Their tone is unnecessary.
I’m still pissed about being escorted out of the practice area by the two burly security guards. I barely made it fifteen minutes into my brainstorming session, meaning I was nowhere close to running into Liminal’s practice time.
If they had been polite about telling me to get lost, that would be one thing, but I never even saw the band, so it’s weird that they knew I was in there at all.
Whatever.
They’re super famous.
I’m sure they can get away with much worse behavior.
By the time I make it out to the bus, Theo is in the living room, smoking a blunt with Jesse, the bassist, and Remmy, the drummer.
I’m not big on smoking, but I’d take a gummy from time to time when we used to stay home and chill. I don’t get how they can smoke and go out in public. I would be too paranoid to function, but that’s just me.
It smells delicious, though.
“Lumen,” Theo says, smiling and blowing a huge cloud of smoke out of his nose. “Did you write us a stunner?”
I snort and shake my head as I cross the bus to take a seat next to him on the couch. “Security kicked me out so Liminal could start practicing early.”
“Dude, those guys are such pretentious dicks.” Remmy stretches over to grab the blunt Theo offers him. “We’re part of the tour. We all signed that NDA, and they still barely acknowledge our existence.”
“Being able to hang with them was half the reason I was excited to open for them rather than any of the other big-name bands the label considered putting us with,” Jesse says, laughing. “I actually used to like their music, but their attitudes have killed that.”
“This is exactly why they tell you not to meet your heroes.” I laugh as Theo tosses his arm around my shoulder. “They might be assholes, but they sure are pretty.”
“Lumen,” Theo growls, making me smile.
It’s nice to hear that he’s a little jealous. I’ve had to get used to women hanging all over him for pictures and when they want autographs, but it’s all part of keeping the fans happy.
I’m also sure it’s something the girlfriend of a rock star has to get comfortable with if they don’t want to lose their mind.
“Goddamn, they really are sexy as fuck,” Remmy says, winking.
It’s a well-known fact.
Liminal has all the sex appeal.
It’s too bad they seem kinda pretentious in person.
Which is crazy.
Theo has it in his contract that he’ll engage with fans and make sure they have a good time. I don’t remember exactly how it was worded, but that’s what it boiled down to.
They’re not supposed to be rude or make the fans feel like a burden.
Liminal is obviously well past the fan-building stage of their careers, so I guess they don’t have to worry about that.
There’s also the fact that some women are really into narcissistic assholes.
Not me.
But when Kincaid—their lead singer—grabs his mic, leaning toward the audience with all those abs on display, I briefly contemplate if I could become one of those ladies who would overlook a personality issue or two.
That’s embarrassing, but there’s no harm in looking.
I’ve been a Liminal fan since before I met Theo. I was the one who put him on to their music, along with a few other bands he now loves.
I bump my shoulder against Theo’s chest, smiling up at him. “Did you save me any food?”
“Fuck.” He grimaces. “Sorry, babe. I knew I forgot something. Want me to run over and grab you a plate from the catering truck?”
That’s probably my fault for not asking.
It also would have been nice if my boyfriend had thought about me when he was feeding himself while I was working on stuff for him.
“Nah, I’m fine. I’ll go over in a few minutes,” I say, shrugging. “But it might be better if you stick around with me next time after practice. If I can’t get any work in before they kick me out, I won’t be able to craft anything for you guys.”
“Oh, yeah, sure,” Theo says, but I can already tell he’s not listening. He has that faraway tone to his voice.
Whatever.
It benefits them.
If he’s not going to put in the effort, then I’m not going to stress myself out worrying about it.