3. Chapter Two #2
I break down Aliko’s kit, putting everything away where it belongs, taking care with each piece.
The only thing Aliko is firm about is not leaving his instrument set up, even though we’re playing here again tomorrow.
Anyone could fuck with it. And I get that.
Better safe than sorry. Kael doesn’t leave his guitar sitting on the side of the stage, and Dorian doesn’t leave his bass lying around either. Why should the drum kit stay set up?
I’ve worked for some dickheads who bitched about what I did no matter how careful I was. Aliko isn’t like that. I’m pretty sure if I dropped a drum, he’d be the first one there to pick it up and probably apologize for having so many of them. That’s just the kind of guy he is.
When everything is packed up, I make my way to the back of the building.
Since we still have shows tomorrow and Sunday, they’ve put us up in the attached hotel instead of making us sleep on the bus.
Apparently, we’ll be using hotels between some locations too, which honestly sounds a lot better than being crammed into bunks every night.
Everyone will likely be out and about later, enjoying the city on a Friday night—me being one of them. One of the perks of being on tour is checking out the places we’re staying. They’re all like mini-vacations.
The guys are finishing up their meet and greets, and I hang around to watch, like I usually do. Any chance to have my eyes on Aliko…
They take pictures, smile, and chat with every fan that comes up.
A lot of them have eyes for Lucien, the lead singer.
It’s common, of course. The frontman is always the favorite.
It probably helps that he’s a demon, since they’re pretty popular with the humans, with that whole bad boy thing going for him.
He’s a cool guy, just like the rest of them.
Don’t think he’s much of a bad boy, but I don’t know him in that capacity, nor do I want to. He’s into women, so I’m not his type.
There are plenty of people who gravitate toward the others. Dorian, the bassist, gets a lot of attention because of his wings. The span on those things is impressive, and I’ve had to hold back from asking if he can actually fly. I’m sure he can—that’s what gargoyles do, right?
Kael is an orc, and everyone loves his tusks. Plus, he does this orc throat singing thing that the girls go crazy for.
And, of course, there’s Aliko. Anyone could guess what his most popular feature is.
Those arms and tentacles.
I get it. Trust me, I get the obsession with them because maybe I’m a little obsessed myself… and extremely curious about what they’d feel like around certain parts of my body. Yeah, my thoughts have gone there on more than one occasion.
I watch as fan after fan gushes over the guys’ monster parts and push back the jealousy that comes with seeing people touching Aliko. More than not, the first thing they ask him is if he will put a tentacle around their shoulder for the photos.
Like most famous people, these guys are slowly starting to be dehumanized… yes, that term still applies even though they aren’t human, because demonsterized isn’t a word, though it should be. Sounds weird, though.
Security does a good job of keeping people moving, and before long, all the fans are gone, and the guys are off to do what they want to do. Relax. Shower. Drink. Fuck.
I follow them down the hall, watching as they step into their dressing rooms and close the doors. I knock the second I reach Aliko’s. He pulls it open, looking down at me with wide eyes.
“Hey, is something wrong?” he asks. Not in a cocky way, but with concern. I’ve never knocked on his door before, so the question isn’t unwarranted. It does make me suddenly nervous, though. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.
“I was just wondering if you wanted to grab a drink?”
“A drink?”
“If you’re too tired, I get it, but—”
“A drink sounds so fucking good,” he says, drawing out the words. “Can I get twenty minutes?”
“Take all the time you need. I’ll meet you by the back doors,” I say as I take a few backward steps.
When he nods, I turn and head that way, pulling out my phone to figure out where the hell we’re going.
I didn’t think he’d agree. Though I didn’t think too much about asking.
It kind of just happened. But he said yes, which means I get to hang out with Aliko Anson, drummer of The Unbound.
Holy shit. Hopefully, I don’t make an ass of myself.
Aliko meets me almost thirty minutes later, in his human form, dressed in a thin, long-sleeved black shirt, jeans, and boots. I can’t say I’m disappointed because I like him like this, but that monster form… it’s just so tempting.
Going out in public as human will bring less attention since fans don’t know him like this. I just hope he’s doing that for himself and not for me.
“Hey,” I say with a smile.
He gives me an up nod, his face expressionless. I swallow hard as he gets closer, and I see the perfection that is him. All hard and defined lines. He kind of looks like an asshole—complete resting dick face. I don’t know what it is about that, but fuck, I like it.
“Where are we going?” he asks.
His scent hits me. Something musky and fresh, like he showered, but there aren’t showers in his dressing room so I don’t know how he would have. I like the smell a little too much. We need to get going before I become inappropriate before alcohol.
“Found a place down the street,” I say.
“Cool,” he says, running a hand over his head. I push the door open and gesture for him to go first. We head out into the warm night, and I can’t stop smiling the whole walk there.