aluminum paneling reflected him
on both sides so it looked like there were three Luka’s inside the elevator. Not one to waste a photo opportunity, I snapped the shot.
“God, you really don’t take a bad picture,” I said more to myself while I scanned through
today’s gallery on my digi screen.
Luka didn’t respond, totally in some zone.
According to Eli, the band would be playing in studio today instead of the regular street
performance. The way he said it made it seem like an unusual occurrence. I knew next to
nothing about the band and how they usually did things so I just went with the flow.
The elevator dinged to a stop. When the doors opened, we were met by Yana.
Luka pushed away from the wall he leaned against and stepped out of the cab with ground
eating strides. Hands in his pockets, he went straight to the well-lit performance space
flanked by large TV cameras.
“It’s good to have you with us, Dakota.” Yana smiled. Red and black streaks colored her
almost white blond hair. For a second I wondered if she wore wigs or if that was actually her
natural hair. The dress she wore today was made of intricately braided silk ribbon, also in red and black. Queen of Hearts, anyone?
I had to blink several times to focus on what she said to me. “My pleasure. Actually, thank
you for this. I think I already have a couple of excellent shots that you can use for
promotion.”
She nodded then ushered me toward where the band was setting up. “Good. You’ll be
standing over here. Make sure to get several shots from as many angles as you can without
obscuring the TV cameras. This will be one song then a quick interview then another song. I
want photos of everything, even candids. Am I making myself clear?”
Whoa! Yana in business mode blew my mind. I liked it.
Grinning, I positioned myself first to the left of the band. Demitri was in tight leather
pants and shirtless. I got the feeling this was usually how he preferred to look while
performing. With a body like that and the intricate tattoos covering his arm, I’d walk around
half naked too. Phoenix sported a midriff baring top, showing off a bellybutton ring and
tattered black jeans stuffed in knee-high boots. She had her brown hair in a faux-hawk. Red
lipstick seemed to be her signature look. Dray, on the other hand, wore a simple black
sweater and jeans combo, but today he wore gloves. The studio did seem cold, so gloves made
sense. His hair fell around his head without any product in it.
Seeing the whole band together in all their black against the bright lights was a stunning
thing. Before I knew it, I was releasing my shutter in successive shots. Somewhere behind me
Yana spoke to someone. As I skirted behind the cameras to get to the right of the band where
Luka tuned his bass, a girl with straight jet hair that reached her waist stepped forward and
patted Luka’s face with a small round sponge. Luka endured the attention without complaint.
Then the girl moved on to Phoenix. She took out a large makeup brush and tapped it against a
container with pressed powder. Phoenix tilted her chin up so the girl could dust down her
neck. She did the same for Demitri and lastly Dray. With their flawless skin, I had no idea
what the makeup was for. To my eye they certainly didn’t need it.
A guy with a headset and a clipboard announced they would be on the air in ten and
started counting down. By five, everyone in the band had their game faces on—serious and
sexy. By one, a voice from somewhere introduced the band and the song they would be
playing. Dray counted out a beat with his drumsticks. Demitri strummed his guitar, quickly
followed by Luka. Phoenix tapped her foot to the song. She closed both her hands around the
mic stand and began singing in the clear, tremulous voice of hers. I recognized the song as
the same one they opened with during their gig at Sacrifice. It must have been their latest
single.
The song spoke of