Keeping Secrets

Pirates

BEAU

I felt absolutely ridiculous standing on the Santa Monica Pier dressed in a pirate costume in broad daylight. It wasn't Halloween, and I was completely sober. If six months ago someone would've told me this would be part of my job, I wouldn't have believed them. But there I was in a white shirt open all the way to my navel and a pair of tight black pants.

I felt naked and exposed despite the ludicrous looking clothes, the fake tan and contouring that had been applied to make me look like I had more muscles than I did, including a six-pack. Not that I was completely out of shape, because I wasn't. But standing next to Dane—who loved to be at the gym—I looked like a scrawny kid instead of a guitarist in a popular band.

Or maybe like a sleazy wanna be pimp. Either way, I was far from thrilled.

I had tried to get out of this photo shoot, or at least get them to rethink the theme, but there was no use. The other guys claimed they "loved" the idea—which I was pretty sure was a lie—but I got it. Sometimes you just had to trust your agents and managers and hope for the best.

I swallowed my concerns and stood there and stared at the spectacle in front of me, with the ocean waves crashing behind me. Layers of gold-colored necklaces hung around my neck and I had what was supposed to be a pirate hat on my head. The seagulls screeched overhead, and a crowd was gathering, pointing and whispering at our photo shoot. The wind gusts pulled at my white shirt, and I had to grab onto my hat to keep it from flying away, but somehow our photographer loved it.

"Yeah, just like that!" he shouted excitedly. "Work that look!"

I knew I was scowling at the photographer, and maybe that was exactly what he was after, because he just chuckled and kept snapping picture after picture. His two assistants were at his ever beck and call and moved large shades and umbrellas back and forth to give us the best possible light.

Meanwhile Dane seemed to be more than pleased about the photo shoot and he wasn't even wearing a shirt. But then he probably liked it that way. He ate up the attention and grinned at the crowd of girls that had gathered behind the photographer. Their cheers only got louder as he flexed his muscles and winked to get their attention.

I got it. I did. Dane was the one of us with well-defined muscles. The one that could actually pull off a stupid shoot like this. Well, maybe him and Justin, because the way Justin's long hair was whipping around in the wind, also seemed to do it for the girls.

"Unbutton that shirt a bit more, Lucas, and roll up the sleeves," the photographer instructed. "I want to see more of the tattoos."

Lucas unbuttoned his shirt a bit more, showing off the colorful ink on his chest and arms, and it had the desired effect. The crowd went nuts. More and more girls gathered in front of us to watch us pose while the photographer continued shouting instructions. 

I tried to loosen up and just go with the flow like the other guys, but all I felt was stupid. And uncomfortable. Very uncomfortable.

We were all creative people, so I understood the whole idea of having a pirate theme with the sand and ocean in the background. It could be cool as a cover for the release of our next single "Thieves." It just wasn't what I'd imagined.

The cheering fans appeared to disagree with me, which was encouraging, but I still felt silly as I tried to stay upright and keep my pirate hat on during the wind gusts. 

"That's gold right there," the photographer squealed like we suddenly did something completely different from what we'd already been doing over the last hour.

My eyes met Lucas's. He was the most easygoing one of us, despite being the lead singer and our front person, and even he rolled his eyes.

"Is it almost over?" I mouthed to him and got another eye roll in return.