Cross Me Off Your List (5 page)

I immediately look away and stare at Big Tony
as he leads us to a sleek black limo. He motions us inside and
turns his back to shield us. I try to lean around and see who he’s
hiding us from, but Noah tells me to get in first, so I see
nothing. Tank, Benji, and Nat are already inside. Benji is wedged
between the two of them, and it takes everything in me not to crack
up because I know Nat went after him even after Noah told him not
to. Benji will never have a girlfriend, even if management allows
it, because Nat Winters won’t. If I were a Benji fan, I think I’d
rather fight management for him than go up against Nat.

Even without introductions, I recognize
everyone else in the vehicle. Aralie sits on the other side of Nat,
dressed in black pants and a black and purple corset top. Her
rebellious persona fits her well. Jules sits next to her,
completely engaged in a private conversation with his girlfriend.
Noah introduces me to them, as well as Jules’s bodyguard Cannon,
and then turns to the window to see what’s happening outside of the
tinted glass.

“Chloe and Milo not coming?” he asks to no
one in particular.

“They’re fighting,” Nat answers. Aralie
shoots him a death glare, but he instantly defends his statement.
“What? They were. Milo got all jealous boyfriend because Chloe was
on the phone with…you know…and then Chloe got all ‘it’s a business
call’ and Tank made us leave the room.”

Aralie stares at Nat the way the girl in the
lobby stared at me. “First, it was
Derrick
on the phone,”
she says, crossing her arms and angling toward Nat. “Second, it
was
a business call. He was sending over pictures of the
finalized album. And third, it’s really none of your damn
business.”

Nat shrugs. “Just calling it like I see it,
doll,” he says.

“Then stop calling it,” Benji snaps. He
squirms around, trying to find some wiggle room, and
not-so-accidentally rams Nat with his elbow.

Yep. This is definitely not the kind of
experience I was expecting. I bet that Darby girl was really
disappointed. I can’t even imagine being obsessed with a band,
finally getting to be on the inside, and finding out this was all
it had to offer. What a letdown.

Everyone resumes private conversations for
another moment or two before the limo door opens and the girl of
the hour steps inside. She wears a red knee-length dress with cap
sleeves and a V-neck. The silhouette of the dress wraps around her
body in an elegant but modest way. She’s pretty much exactly what I
expected of Chloe Branson. Milo crawls in behind her, dressed
better than the other guys in the limo. They definitely represent a
star couple, regardless of the rumors.

No one says a word about her phone call with
Derrick, who Noah explained is the lead singer of Sebastian’s
Shadow. No one mentions the cheating rumors. No one even says a
word about Nat’s hand finding its way to Benji’s knee, no matter
how many times he redirects it back to Nat. The limo moves forward,
and existence goes on. Is this life behind the tabloids? Chloe and
Milo fake smiles while Nat attempts to convert his brother’s band
mate?

The limo parks next to a side entrance at
Lights Out. It doesn’t look like a media circus outside,
thankfully. Maybe word still hasn’t leaked around town that
Spaceships Around Saturn is crashing at Crescent Inn. Tank and Big
Tony step out first to secure the area. Nat and Benji follow suit,
with Chloe and Milo close behind.

Whatever Sebastian’s Shadow drama was
plaguing them before seems to have vanished. Milo wraps an arm
around her, keeping her all close and snuggly as they walk with
Tank toward the entrance. I feel incredibly guilty for giving in to
rumors and sleaze, but I can’t help wondering if she’s truly happy.
She’s been wrapped up in this Saturn life for nearly a year. Is it
really all it’s cracked up to be? I wish I could ask her, but I
know she’d never tell me the truth.

Benji and Nat stick close behind Tank, with
Aralie, Jules, and Cannon directly behind them. Big Tony gives Noah
the clear. He gets out first and reaches a hand back for me. I grab
my clutch and step out as ladylike as possible. I definitely
should’ve gone with a longer dress, but this one was the most
‘night club’ of all the ones I brought with me.

As we make our way to the door, I hear the
words, “There they are!” and without even looking up, I know it’s
in reference to the boyband. A splash of white light hits my
peripherals. I don’t think I could ever get used to that many
camera flashes. Paparazzi must be out to blind celebrities these
days.

“Just keep walking,” Noah says, leaning close
to me. “They’re not allowed inside, so our main focus is to
actually get inside.”

Milo and Chloe stop for the cameras, posing
like the super couple they’re supposed to be, and as we pass by, I
hear someone ask them about trouble in Saturn paradise. Chloe’s
quick to shoot down the rumors. There is more shouting behind us as
we push our way inside. The bouncer doesn’t bother to check IDs
when we walk by. That’s definitely a perk.

“So do the paparazzi show up everywhere you
go?” I shout to Noah over a thumping bass.

“Pretty much,” he shouts back. “They always
get word of where we are, and everyone wants a piece of Chloe and
Milo right now.”

Tank stakes out a back corner rounded booth
and waves us over. I’d rather be on the dance floor, but Noah
pushes through the crowd with Big Tony to get to the table.

“Oh my gahhhh,” a girl says far too loudly in
my ear. “You’re Noah Winters! Can I get a picture?”

Big Tony pulls aside while Noah talks to the
girl, asking if she’s ever been to one of their shows and what her
favorite SAS song is. Instead of standing here awkwardly, I
continue on toward the table and slide in next to Nat just in time
to hear Benji’s diva fit.

“And then he said he didn’t give a damn if my
name was Harry Houdini, I wasn’t getting in if I wasn’t on his
list,” Benji says. “How is there anyone left in the world who
doesn’t know who I am by now?”

Nat shifts his eyes toward me and then looks
back at Benji. I hate to tell Mr. Priss but the main reason his
brother wants to hang out with me is because I’m one of the few
girls
not
screaming in his face. I’m sure it gets old, even
if you’re thankful for the fans.

“You know, if I have to deal with this shit –
all the special rules and regulations from management – the least
these assholes could do is let me in the VIP section,” Benji
says.

Nat rests his head on Benji’s shoulder. “I’ll
let you in
my
VIP section,” he says.

Benji nudges Nat away and mumbles something
about him not having a VIP section. I’m impressed with Nat’s
unwavering attempts. I wonder if he considers himself to be a
Saturnite. Tank tells Benji to enjoy himself tonight and leaves the
table. He interrupts Noah’s hang out session with some fans and
directs him back to us. Then the Cuban bodyguard makes his way to
the dance floor alone. Big Tony follows Noah back to our table.

“How are the fangirls?” Nat asks. He pushes
Benji with his arm, and Benji moves around the table enough to give
Noah some room to slide in.

“They’re fans,” Noah corrects his brother.
“They are fans of the music.”

“Oh please,” Nat says, holding up a hand to
stop anything else Noah might say. “Fans say things like, ‘Hey, I
loved your last album,’ and talk about their favorite songs.
Fangirls scream, ‘Oh my gahhhh,’ and grab your arm in a flailing
panic. Trust me. I know how it works.”

I shift my eyes to the door while Nat and
Noah argue over fan wording. Chloe and Milo have made their way
inside, but they stop to talk with Aralie and Jules instead of
joining us.

“Will you just shut up?” Noah snaps.

“I’m trying to prove a point,” Nat says. “I
mean, if I was just some normal guy and I saw Benji Baccarini on
the street, I wouldn’t tell him I loved his album. I’d completely
flip out and attack him like a crazed stalker. Tank would have to
pry me off. That’s the difference.”

Neither Noah nor Benji respond. I doubt this
is the first time they’ve heard something like this out of Nat’s
mouth. Big Tony offers to buy drinks once the Branson sisters,
their boyfriends, and Jules’s bodyguard Cannon arrive at the table.
Noah uses this opportunity to leave my clutch in Milo’s possession
and drag me to the dance floor with him.

“It was getting a bit crowded,” he says,
pulling me close to him so no one else can hear him. “Plus, Benji’s
about to get drunk, and I don’t want to be responsible for carrying
him out of here.”

He takes my hand, spins me around, and pulls
me up against him. The music vibrates through the floor. Strobe
lights swirl around us, creating a colorful burst of lightning
across the club. I really don’t care if Benji’s getting drunk or
Milo steals my debit card because Noah’s eyes are too green to want
to look at anything else in this room.

Forty-five minutes later, Aralie is on the
dance floor with Nat and Tank, and Milo is signing autographs and
taking selfies around the room. Chloe and Jules seem miserable to
be here, and Benji is way too talkative at our crowded back corner
table.

“How drunk do you think he is?” Noah asks
before we reach the others. “He’ll end up dancing with my brother
tonight. Just watch. Once he gets drunk enough, he gets pissed
about management’s rules, and all bets are off.”

I think it’s incredibly sad that Benji has
his own set of rules. I thought after Justin Bieber and One
Direction, management teams would loosen the reins on their
superstars. I don’t see anyone saying that Harry Styles can’t have
a girlfriend, and if
I
know Harry Styles’s name, then you
know he’s more famous than Benji. I mean, really, what year is it
again? Give the boy some freedom.

“And Tank told me to enjoy myself,” Benji
mutters to Chloe. “How the hell can I enjoy myself when I’m on
lockdown all the time? All I can do is go to night clubs and drink
because God forbid I actually dance with someone.”

“Someone might snap a picture,” Chloe says, a
bit of sarcasm in her voice. “Believe me, I know. Lockdown never
ended for some of us.”

Benji takes another swig of beer. “You should
go dance with Tank,” he tells her. “You could be tomorrow morning’s
headline.
Branson Sister Cheats on Boyfriend with Bodyguard in
Plain Sight.
It’s ridiculous. Almost as ridiculous as these
idiots not letting me into the VIP section.”

Benji orders Big Tony to get another round
because he’s going to need more beer to survive tonight. Noah tells
me that Benji doesn’t normally drink, but vacations aren’t much of
a vacation for his band mate.

“It’s like a prison sentence,” Noah says.
“We’re finally allowed to have some fun and take a break from
interviews, touring, and everything in between, but for him, it’s
always a charade. He’s Benji from SAS nonstop. There is no normalcy
for him. Then we just make it worse by bringing him to the States
where he’s not even old enough to buy alcohol.”

I sort of want to punch someone in the face,
but I’m not sure who. Part of me wants to hit Benji for not
grabbing his balls and manning up. If the other guys can do
whatever the hell they want, so can he. Why doesn’t he just say
something? But then I want to punch their manager for even setting
these stupid guidelines. I know teenage girls all over the world
love them and daydream about marrying them, but I’m certain that
girls dream of marrying Jules, Milo, Noah, and Tate just as much as
they do Benji.

“You should tell your management team to
shove it,” I say to Benji when we reach the table. I’m livid that
he has to live like this. I don’t care how famous he is. “People
are going to talk no matter what you do. I mean, look at Chloe. She
walks the line just the way everyone expects her to, and if you
Google her name, all you see are cheating rumors.”

Maybe I shouldn’t have said that in front of
her. I swap my stare from Benji to Chloe. “Sorry,” I say. “That
came out all wrong.”

“No, it’s okay,” Chloe assures me. “I stopped
Googling myself once the rumor mill decided I was the Saturn slut.
You know, working on album art for a band and sleeping with their
guitarist are basically one and the same.”

Hmmm. Maybe she does have a backbone after
all. I imagined her to be a pushover, the kind of girl who does
whatever it takes to please everyone else. I still think at one
time, she was that way. Maybe all this Saturn insanity has gone too
far for her.

I start to settle in when I notice the DJ
heading out and a new one settling in. He rushes up the stairs into
the coveted VIP section, cap turned sideways and an unshaven face.
Normally, thugged out rugged boys aren’t my type, but a year and a
half ago, he was clean shaven and a little more punk rock – sort of
like Noah.

And a year and a half ago, I may have spent a
drunken night skinny dipping with him. Then we may have moved the
action from the water to his bedroom in that ancient apartment
building. And that night may have reoccurred a few times, with
slight changes here and there.

Luckily, we ended it on good terms. We
weren’t ever really a thing anyway. I don’t even know if I’d have
called us friends with benefits, but we were friends, and there
were benefits, so maybe. I’m about to find out if we’re still
friends and if I can possibly help my new friends benefit from
it.

“Hey, I’ll be right back,” I tell Noah.

I don’t give him a chance to question me. I
dash toward the VIP area, but I know I won’t be getting in without
my name on that list. It’s the same guy from earlier who refused
Benji, so I don’t have a shot in hell.

I follow the railing on the bottom level,
trying to keep up with him, until he stops at the DJ booth. I have
about five seconds to get his attention before I’m dragged out of
here by security, so I pull myself up onto the railing.