Page 80 of Kind of Famous
MusicArt wrote:
Micah’s so subdued. It’s kind of weird to see him standing in one place like that except when he’s solo.
RobinHood wrote:
Who’s Layla Beckett?
CaliforniaDreamin wrote:
Could just be someone who works for the magazine they sent over to fabricate some fan buzz.
CakeOrDeath wrote:
I bet you’re right. The whole thing did feel a bit forced. Like she’d wikipediaed some random info about the band. Libra? How is that relevant?
Jayhawk wrote:
Oh my god. This is amazing video! New music! I’m going to hang out over on the TotA fan forum tonight and hope that there are more videos.
LowRider wrote:
Y’all know that’s probably just one of the girlfriends, right? Did you notice the picture from the tour bus? Doesn’t one of their girlfriends ride along sometimes?
Jayhawk wrote:
@LowRider- who cares?
Sailor8 wrote:
Micah’s girlfriend usually takes credit for her photography. Rumor has it Noah’s broken up with his girlfriend (hoping it’s true!) and Shane doesn’t have one. Rick’s married. His wife never travels with them. Looks to me like someone just got lucky. (And why is it never me?)
Chapter Twenty-One
With a pillow plumped behind me, I sat in Shane’s bed and read through the reaction to the blog I’d posted. Over on the TotA forum, the posters were having a field day discussing the new song and debating which cover they preferred. It was fun to wallow a bit in their thrill of seeing it all secondhand. I was already starting to forget the first-hand awe of sitting right there.
My phone erupted in the FaceTime ringtone, and I rolled over to grab it and accept the call.
“Hola, Cuddle Rock.” I attempted a seductive grin, but it was awkward to do so at a device.
Shane appeared on my screen. I guessed he must be in a hotel in yet another college town. Their schedule up until Friday was basketball arenas and small theaters. Friday, they’d arrive in Boston for a major festival.
“Layla, I’ve got a question for you.” There was a bit of scruff covering his chin. I’d never stopped to investigate if he tended to go unshaven during a tour. I smiled to myself as I considered all the fun things I had yet to learn about him.
“Uh, huh?” I grinned anticipating some flirty banter.
“When’s my birthday?”
My breath caught. “Oh, shit. Was it today?” He’d told me he was thirty-one when we talked about it, and I never did go look up his statistics. “I didn’t know.”
“No.” The muscle in his cheek twitched. “Do you even know what sign I am?”
I hadn’t figured out where he was going with this, so I attempted a stab. “Uh, Taurus?”
He snorted. “Close, but no.”
“I don’t know. When’s your birthday?”
“April 6. I’m an Aries.”
