Free Heavy Metal (A Badboy Rockstar Romance) by Octavia Wildwood Page A

already waiting.  Apparently the other guys in the band were going to head over to the stadium separately.
    “I haven’t called Carl yet,” I admitted sheepishly.  “After the way he yelled at me the last time I called, I’m kind of dreading talking to him again.  I don’t know what to say.  And what if he won’t cooperate?  He might, you know.  I’m sure he’d mad as hell.”
    “Do you want me to deal with him?” Brandon asked, taking my concerns seriously.  “You don’t have to talk to him ever again if you don’t want to, Hayley.  Let me take care of it.”
    “Thanks, but it’s something I have to do,” I said bravely.  Though the times I’d shared with Carl hadn’t exactly been good, we’d had a long relationship.  He deserved closure and, come to think of it, maybe I needed closure too.
    “Whatever you want,” Brandon replied.  “Just remember you have options, alright?”
    “Thanks.”
    “So are you ready for your first concert ever?” he asked, smoothly changing the subject.  He flashed me an over-the-top, toothy grin to sarcastically let me know what he thought about the whole thing.  I couldn’t help but smile at his antics.
    “Yeah, I am,” I told him.  “Are you nervous?”
    “I’m always nervous.”
    “You don’t look it.”
    “I have a good poker face.”
    Our driver had slowed down to a crawl.  We were still quite a distance away from the stadium, so I peered out the window to see what was going on.  The street was packed with vehicles, some of them decorated with the band’s name and pictures of the guys.  Girls lined the street chanting, their faces painted and their cameras ready. 
    “They’re all here for you?” I asked in disbelief.
    “For me and the other guys in the band, yeah.”  Brandon sounded embarrassed.
    Suddenly a chorus of screams caught my attention.  There was arm flapping and squealing and even some crying.  Then nearly all of the girls took off running away from the stadium, a stampede of raging hormones and teenage lust.
    “What’s going on?” I gasped, my faced pressed against the tinted window. 
    “They’ve spotted the decoy limo,” Brandon explained, unfazed by the whole thing.  “It’s going to be circling the block for the next little while to keep the fans occupied and out of the way.  I wish we didn’t have to do it, but it makes it so much easier getting where we need to go.  Or at least it will until the fans catch on and we have to figure something else out.”
    “There are a lot of logistics involved in getting you from Point A to Point B, huh?”
    “You have no idea.  Thankfully only a small minority of our fans get carried away.”
    “You call that a small minority?” I asked in amazement.  “There were so many of them out there that they practically shut down the whole street!”
    “That won’t happen until later,” Brandon replied.  “Closer to the show, the surrounding streets will have to be shut down.  I’m sure the cops just love us and all the trouble we cause,” he said sarcastically.  “I wish there was some less disruptive way for us to tour, but there you have it.”
    Just then the engine shut off.
    “Oh, we’re here.”
    The two of us climbed out of the backseat and were quickly ushered through a back door by a guy wearing a bright yellow t-shirt that had “Security” written on the front.  Several more security guards lined the long narrow hallway we were led down.  Brandon grabbed my hand as we walked, making it clear to everyone that I was with him and had permission to be there.
    “So this is our dressing room,” he told me a minute later when we arrived at a large room where two of three other band members were already lounging around.  “Make yourself comfortable.”
    Fascinated by the lifestyle that had become the new normal for Brandon, I stood there looking around.  The room was furnished with several couches, a big screen TV and even a pool table.  There