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Helena rolls her eyes. “Good Lord, girl, I’m not eighty. It’s Helena.”
“Sorry, Southern manners are ingrained at birth.”
“I hear the accent. I lived in Atlanta for a while. Loved the area. God knows why you gave it up for this.” Helena gestures to the incessant flashing cameras. “And please, I’ve been dealing with Julian’s crap for years now. Once he gets an idea in his head, there’s no stopping him.”
“Hey, fuck nuts! We saw a video online of you driving up in the douchewagon. That shit’s already viral.”
A quick glance over my shoulder precedes a sucker punch from Zane. “Ouch! Damn, fucker!” I growl.
He flips his middle finger. “Pussy.”
“Boys!” Helena warns. “The press has microphones, so watch the language, please. You make my life hard enough.”
Zane sneers at her and slings his arm around some Italian model. Thankfully, things seem to be back to normal between us.
“You’re the girl from the club.”
All eyes turn toward the pale girl with long purple hair wearing a simple black gown. Tanna eyes Phoebe curiously while holding onto Ty’s arm. With her overly heavy makeup and ill-fitting dress, she looks like she’s been caught playing dress-up in her mother’s closet.
I glance back at Phoebe, who lowers her eyes to the red carpet.
What the fuck?
Where the hell is my feisty firecracker? Is she seriously intimidated by Tanna?
“Yeah,” she whispers so quietly I have to strain to hear her. “Julian and I work together now.”
Tanna cocks her head to the side and studies her. She purses her lips, but wisely lets the subject drop. She may only be nineteen, but that girl can read people like a book. It takes her less than five seconds to see Phoebe’s out of her element.
“And here we have Julian Bale, front man for the new Surge Records group, Lords of Lyre.” A reporter with long blonde hair shoves a microphone in my face as her camera man focuses his lens. “Julian, how has all the newfound fame changed your life?”
Same old same old.
Can’t these people find new questions to ask?
I plaster on my fake smile. “Actually, beyond the obvious perk of being able to talk with you, Carly, my life is the same. I get to make music with my friends and play it for some awesome fans. The only difference is now I don’t get booed as often.”
She blushes, and I want to roll my eyes.
“I know there have been rumors of a tour soon, but what’s really buzzing is talk of an autobiography in the works. Is that true?”
I glance at Phoebe, just as her body stiffens in my arms. Her face is frozen in a fake smile.
How is someone who won a state pageant this freaked out?
“Yes, it’s true. Lords of Lyre, The Gibbons Agency, Surge Records, and MetroGroup Publishing have commissioned my autobiography to be published this fall.” I pinch Phoebe’s side, causing her to inhale sharply.
I have to get her inside before she passes the fuck out.
I nod to Helena, who dips her chin and quickly herds the band down the red carpet. Tightening my grip on Phoebe, I nudge her to follow them.
“The world also wants to know if your date is the girl from the Blogosphere Daily column,” the reporter calls out behind me.
Keep walking, Phoebe. Keep walking.
Of course, she doesn’t. She stops and spins around, staring daggers into the reporter, whose smug smile verifies what I already knew.
She’d waited to go in for the kill.
