Savor (3 page)

looking at on the dance floor?

“I’m surprised you don’t know anything about Vicious if you’re planning on using Luka for

your final project.”

“It was a spur of the moment thing, but trust me,” I glanced at the stage. The guy with

messy, spikey hair flirting with Yana took a seat behind the drum set. “After tonight, that’s

gonna change. I’m getting Luka as my subject.” I returned my gaze to Silvia. “So, your

feature?”

She pursed her lips. “Just send me one with all the band members in it.”

I nodded once then pushed past her. The verdant cry of an electric guitar caused the crowd

in the club to surge forward. I paused on my way to a corner of the bar to minimize the

pushing and shoving, protecting my camera by curving my shoulders forward and circling it

with my arms. Several bodyguards similar to the one who wanted my camera appeared at the

bottom of the stage, creating a human barricade. I shifted my gaze back to the stage as

women screamed and reached for the band members who now converged together.

A girl with wavy brown hair reached for the mic stand. Instead of pulling it toward her, she

arched her body toward it until her red lips touched the microphone. She wore a floor-length

leather dress and fingerless gloves. A silver bolt like Luka’s pierced her eyebrow and spider

bites clung to the corner of her lower lip. A spotlight emphasized the paleness of her skin.

Without thinking, I lifted my camera and captured the moment forever just before she

spoke. She introduced the band, starting with the drummer, Dray. He executed a complicated

drum solon that brought the crowd to life. Then she pointed at Luka. Once she said his name,

his fingers plucked at the flame blue bass strapped to his body. The women screamed,

chanting his name as the notes his instrument released into the air eerily echoed heartbeats.

Lastly, the girl turned toward the lead guitarist. Her expression went from all business to

fondness. I snapped another picture. Clearly, even without introducing him as Demitri, she

had feelings for him. The heat in her eyes said so, and the answering hunger in his confirmed

it. Twenty mega pixels didn’t lie. I caught the pinks on her cheeks. Their eyes held a moment

before the girl introduced herself as Phoenix McKay and that they were Vicious.

The first notes of the song I recognized from the cab caught the crowd’s attention enough

that I managed to make my way to the far corner of the bar. Without asking for permission,

and seeing as no one seemed to be ordering drinks anymore, I climbed up onto the bar, took a

knee, and pointed my camera toward the stage, prepared to watch the concert through my

lens. I rested my elbow on my thigh, using my arm as a makeshift tripod. I didn’t worry about

slipping. My boots had enough traction in them despite the stiletto. I just needed to make

sure my hands didn’t shake so each shot wasn’t wasted.

First, I concentrated on the shot Silvia expected from me. The perfection of my vantage

point manifested as a picture of all the band members complete with the crowd in shadow. At

first glance, it seemed like disembodied hands were reaching for the band. But no matter how

good the picture turned out, I couldn’t pat my back just yet. I had a long way to go if I wanted Luka as my subject.

I zoomed all the way in on the drummer. He had his eyes closed as if he didn’t need to see

the drums to play. The beats his sticks produced danced in my chest. I bided my time, waiting

for the right moment. A chorus of the wailing song later, Dray opened his eyes. He stared out

into the crowd full on. I snapped the picture then studied the finished product on the digi

screen. I managed to get him with both his hands in the air just about to bring the sticks

down on the cymbals.

Glorious!

A grin tugged at my lips.

When I looked at Dray through my lens again, he had his eyes closed once more. I had a

feeling he wouldn’t be opening them for a long while. So I moved on to the lead guitarist.

Immediately, I understood why Phoenix blushed. Without a shirt on, he stood there all tall

and broad-shouldered, at just about the same height as Luka. But where Luka seemed made

of lean muscle, Demitri was more ripped. Muscles rippled down his chest to his slim hips.

Jeans as tight as Luka’s clung to the rest of his gorgeousness. Long, black hair rested on his shoulders. Several thin leather braids lined his left wrist while he had a whole sleeve of

tattoos on his right arm, ending at a script that circled where his heart would be. When I

zoomed in I gasped. The script spelled Phoenix, stylized to look like a bird in flight. If I

thought nothing was going on between those two before, I couldn’t deny it anymore.

Demitri executed a couple headbangs. I zoomed out and took six successive photos of him,

capturing the movement until he settled back. He lifted his foot onto the amp and stayed that

way, all his concentration on his fingers flying up and down the bridge of his electric guitar.

Two down, now I moved the lens to the lead singer.

Phoenix sang into the mic as if she was making love to it. There was something almost

pornographic about the way she straddled the mic stand as she reached out toward the crowd.

I took a deep breath and snapped a couple shots. Those disembodied hands against her paper

white skin looked almost eerie yet ethereal. I looked down at my digi screen again and

noticed that I managed to capture her smile. Just a tiny curving of her lips upward.

Damn. Did my camera love everyone in this band?

I began to doubt if anyone of them took horrible pictures. Even in motion they seemed to

be in a pose perfect for a dynamic still shot. As I took a few more of the other bandmates, I

soon realized Luka wasn’t the only one I wanted for my introspective. The goal of the project

was to unearth the essence of the subject. Vicious was my subject and I wanted to show the

world the essence of each bandmate as a collective whole. I could see the concept materialize

before my eyes once the wailing lyrics of the third song reached my ears.

Closing my eye, I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Now for the bandmate I’d been

saving for last.

I raised my camera until I saw him through my viewfinder. My finger hovered over the

shutter release, ready to get him in his element. Luka positioned himself at the darkest part

of the stage. He angled his body away from the crowd. Shadow shrouded his face.

I bit my lip then cursed under my breath. I should have known. He wasn’t gonna make

this easy for me. The audience must be wondering what the hell had gotten into him.

Using my free hand, I propelled myself off the bar. If Luka wanted to play hard to get then

so be it. I wasn’t afraid to get closer. The challenge in his eyes before he left for the stage was real after all. I pushed through the ocean of bodies. My nose wrinkled at the perfume, sweat,

cologne combo they emitted. Breathing through my mouth, I ignored the exclamations from

women and men I elbowed out of the way until I reached the side of the stage where Luka hid

himself, probably thinking how clever he was by “hiding” from the photographer.

But, see, that’s the thing about photographers. It was in our blood to get the right shot.

The perfect picture. If we had to climb a tree, lie on the ground, suspend ourselves in the air, we would do it.

Luka had another thing coming if he thought I would give up that easily.

I ducked beneath the arms of the bodyguard-human-chain and crab-crawled my way to the

stage. I waited for someone to notice me, but since the band sucked up all the attention in the club, I let my worries of getting caught go and focused on the job. Right below where Luka

stood, I adjusted my camera’s settings to compensate for the lack of proper lighting. I knew I wouldn’t use my flash. It might distract him. Or worse, cause him of fall off the stage. I didn’t want any of my future subjects getting hurt.

Yes. I thought of them now as my future subjects. I knew for a fact that Yana wouldn’t be

able to take her eyes away from the moments I caught tonight. If she did then I still had

much to learn and didn’t really deserve to graduate that year.

Focusing on more positive thoughts, I lifted my camera and waited for the right moment

to release the shutter. I made a mental note to thank the Daily Gossip’s editor-in-chief for

assigning me to cover Sacrifice. I wouldn’t have met Luka otherwise.

Two songs later, I still hadn’t moved from my spot. And Luka seemed content to stay in

the shadows, plucking at the strings of his base. My calves were beginning to cramp and lactic acid crawled up my arms, making them less and less steady by the minute. It became a battle

of wills. I had to get a picture of Luka while playing or this deal was off.

Gritting my teeth against the pain, I shifted ever so slightly. Right at that moment,

blinding light flooded the stage in conjunction with the crescendo of a song. I had to close my eye against the glare, thankful the patch covered the other. My finger depressed the shutter

release three times without my having to see through the lens. A white ball burned behind

my eyelid. Once the light receded, I fell on my ass, clutching my camera close.

Phoenix introduced the next song while I blinked my vision back. Still seeing the ball of

light, I immediately scanned through my gallery. When I reached the one I took of Luka, a

huge grin stretched my lips.

“Gotcha.”

Chapter Three

Research

Distracted by thoughts of Vicious and their overall gorgeousness, I trudged into my small

one-bedroom apartment and switched on the lights. Kicking the door shut, I headed straight

for my laptop. A couple years back, I had won a national amateur photography competition.

The money after taxes kept me in school and living comfortably. With it, I left the dorms and

got my apartment, conveniently located a block off campus. But I didn’t rest on my laurels.

I’d saved as much of the cash as I could, knowing I couldn’t live on it alone. I had to make

this project with Luka work because getting Yana to sign off on it meant catapulting my

career years beyond my goals—a major rock star in a multi-platinum recording band did that.

The multi-platinum part I got from Silvia before I left Sacrifice. I promised to send her the

photo of the whole band on stage tonight. But instead of hooking my camera up to my laptop,

I immediately used my Google powers.

Any photographer worth their salt researched their subject. When—not
if
—I got the go

ahead to take pictures of the band for my introspective, I needed to come in knowing more

about each of them. I began with Wiki and worked my way out.

The band consisted mostly of family members. Besides Phoenix, Demitri and Dray were

brothers—should have noticed the resemblance there sooner. I slapped my forehead. I

already knew Luka and Yana were siblings, but I didn’t know that Demitri and Luka were first

cousins. Talk about band of brothers. What happened if they argued about something? I

shook my head. God, they must have epic screaming matches in the studio. Lots of bands

broke up for less. Yet—I tilted my head to the side, pursing my lips—since they were family, it might work to their advantage.

Phoenix joined the band during their last year in high school. She was a transfer student.

Apparently, Demitri’s family owned and ran the Barinkoff Academy located in the Caucasus

mountain range.

Huh. Weird location for a school.

Then I got to the ultra-exclusive part. It seemed you had to be super smart to be admitted.

Everyone in the band had Mensa worthy IQs. This included Yana and several of their

entourage. They all went to Barinkoff. Wow.

I rubbed my chin, staring at the screen like it was a window into Vicious’ world.

Clicking on several links, I kept reading.

The most interesting info about the band—to me, anyway—had to be their independence.

They financed everything, from producing their EPs to their tours. According to one article,

the money didn’t matter to them. Demitri and Luka wrote all their songs. From time to time

they collaborated with Phoenix. They created music they wanted to put out there and didn’t

want anyone else having a say in their creative process.

That
I could understand. I sat back in my swivel chair until the backrest creaked. I’d hate for someone to tell me how to take pictures. This was why I wanted to freelance as much as

possible, be my own boss, travel the world. Be it for magazines or newspapers, so long as I

didn’t have to become a wedding photographer. Which was what usually happened to those

who fell through the cracks. I even dreamed of showing in the top galleries around the world,

selling my photos at top dollar to anyone who wanted them. So I applauded Vicious for

sticking it to The Man and doing it their way.

Because of their independence, they were the first band in history to dominate the top one

hundred rock charts on iTunes. I didn’t believe the article until I visited the website to

download some of their songs. My eye almost fell out of my head; I was staring so hard at the

screen. When the article said dominated they meant literally. The first ten songs on the chart were all from Vicious. I didn’t even know that was possible.

“Da-yam!” I sucked in a breath and let it out slowly.