Once Upon A Song

Chapter Seven

I stared out of the window morosely as  the sleek limo eased through traffic.This was it. D-Day. The day of the concert. 

Adrien had been working me ruthlessly, forcing me to practice singing every day for hours upon hours until my throat would burn and my voice would crack. He was still suspicious of my drastic change in style and talent, but had grudgingy trained me. I had gotten way better, but I had absolutey no idea if I was ready to perform or not. Unfortunately, it would appear that I had no choice. I sighed, thumping my head against the cool glass window.

"You hanging in there?" Trey asked sympathetically, nudging me. I groaned dramatically. He chuckled, a rich, deep sound that made me blush. I was gratefu that he couldn't see my face. "You'll do great. Try not to stress yourself out. Just...be yourself."

I groaned again. If he only knew the irony of those words.

"Knock it off!" Adrien snapped sharply from across the limo. "Don't fucking mess this up, Rose. Now is not the time to be a little bitch. I swear to God, if you make us look like idiots..."

"He'll do great," Charlie spoke up defensively, leaning over and patting me on the knee. "The first concert is always kind of scary."

Adrien heaved out an angry, dramatic sigh. I peeked up at Charlie through my bangs. "Thanks."

He flashed me a dazzling grin as the limo purred to a stop. My stomach lurched painfully. This was it. I took a deep breath as the driver came over and opened my door. Cameras flashed and shrill screams filled my ears. I shrank back toward the safety of the vehicle, but Trey gave me a gentle push forward. Biting my lip, I stepped out of the car as bodyguards rushed forward to surround me and the boys. 

We moved as a herd through the thick throng of screaming teenage girls and sharp-voiced reporters. I kept my eyes glued to the ground, positive that my face would show my fear to the world. We manuevered our way into the venue and were ushered through a maze of hallways and into a room filled with people bustling around with clipboards, speaking in clipped tones to the headsets in their ears. I was shoved into a chair. The boys were taken across the room, each to their own make-up artist. Suddenly feeing very alone, I gulped.

"Well, well, well," a smooth voice drawled. "What do we have here?"

I peered up a a tall, thin man. He had an expenive-looking white cashmere scarf tossed carelessly across his shoulders. His designer jeans were so tight they seemed painted on and his honey-coored hair was artfully styled and glossy. He studied me intently, one slim hand on his hip. 

"Honey," he said finally. "Whatever are you doing?" 

I looked down at myself and then back up at him, mystified. "Um, sitting here?"

"No, no!" He waved a hand in the air as he brushed my words away impatiently. "I mean, whatever are you doing pretending to be a boy?"

My heart sank to my toes. I swallowed, glancing around to see if anyone else had heard. Everyone seemed too busy to take much notice of me, bustling past without a second glance. I turned back to the man. "I-I don't know what you mean."

He shot me an incredulousand slightly pitying look. "Darling, trust me. I know men. You are not a man." 

I slumped down in my chair dejectedly. No point continuing to lie. "No," I sighed. "I'm not."

The man cocked his head, clearly waiting for me to go on and elaborate.

"I'm just trying to help my brother out. We're twins, you see, and he's gotten himself into sometroube in England, and his manager thought...well, it was a really dumb idea, I guess."

The man chuckled in delight. "You're telling me none of those dazzlingly beautiful boys over there knows you are really a girl?"

I blew out a breath, ruffling my bangs. "Turns out I make a decent guy," I grumbled, thinking of Trey with a pang. The man laughed again.

"Well, honey, my name is Devin and tonight I am going to make you the hottest guy in the room."

I gaped at him in disbelief. "You're not going to expose me?"

He winked saucily at me. "Sweetheart, I only ever expose real men."

I blushed, but grinned back at him. He studied me critically, and then spun me around to face a mirror.

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This was it. My heart pounded as I took a deep breath to steady my nerves. Devin had truly worked miracles. My hair was now glossy, shaggy in the front and spiky in the back. The make-up he had applied made my face appear narrower, sharper. I was wearing dark-wash jeans and a tight t-shirt with a silver jacket over it. My chest was tightly bound with medical gauze. I looked like a guy.

Trey and Charlie stood beside me. I coudn't help but keep sneaking little looks at Trey. He looked so damn hot. His messy pale hair gleamed under the dim stage lights. His silver earring flashed and his crystal eyes glittered in eager anticipation. He was wearing a dark, tight shirt that hinted at his rippling abs and tight black jeans. He had a siver chain around his neck, ending in a cross. He caught my eyes, shooting me a grin. I flushed, looking away.

A stressed-out stage hand stood in front of us by Adrien, listening intently to his headset. He held up one finger and my breath caught in my throat. After a long, endless moment, he nodded and jerked his head toward the stage. 

"You're on."

As we stepped through the curtain under the hot lights, screams filled the air.