Ian Drake Bonus POV Scene
The cheering of the crowd told me the band would be called to go on stage soon. There was a certain fervor, a heightened sense of anticipation that arose from our audience, whenever the concert start time approached. I could almost feel it in the air, like some visible fog washing over us.
My brother and I were getting ready. For me, that meant getting into the right headspace.
For Damon, that meant hitting on the assistants.
A roadie interrupted his flirting to give us our guitars. As I settled the strap around my shoulders, someone across the room called out for The Twins.
“Which one’s that, again?” the roadie called back.
“Don’t know, don’t care. Just pick one.”
Slight resentment flared up inside me.
I knew no one could tell us apart, but they could at least care about the difference between lead and rhythm.
I couldn’t really blame them. Damon and I always switched off positions halfway through our sets.
Knowing that didn’t make the lump in my stomach go away. Didn’t ease the tightness in my chest.
“Don’t care. Just pick one.”
My arm began to itch. I tried to ignore it. The itch became a burn. Became a need. I fiddled with the decorative buckles on my wrist cuff, twisting it around and around.
It wasn’t enough.
I pressed down hard, digging the leather into the skin of my wrist. The hint of pain helped center me for a moment. I took in a deep breath, calm washing over me.
I felt Damon’s eyes on me. Staring at me, watching me. I ignored the burning in my arm and let go of the leather cuff. I flashed him a grin and nodded to one of the assistants, the girl who’d given us our water bottles.
Hot, right? I asked without words.
She’s okay, he responded.
He was still staring at my arm. I had to distract him. I threw him a knowing leer.
You gonna invite her to the afterparty?
I’m not lying. I haven’t decided yet. She’d be too easy.
I raised an eyebrow. Is that a bad thing?
Damon narrowed his eyes at me before giving a careless shrug. Maybe I’m just getting bored. Need more of a challenge.
Since fucking when? I practically laughed out loud. My brother always liked the easy ones.
He grunted and turned around, avoiding my eyes.
I’d successful deflected, but I didn’t know how long I’d be able to keep this from him.
It was getting worse.
My arm was still burning. With Damon’s eyes averted, I went back to clutching at my wrist. Fuck. I’d have to get this under control before we went on stage.
August called us over. Something about the setlist. Changing it at the last minute again, like he always did. There was always one reason or another why our setlist wasn’t good enough. We were used to it. Used to August and his unrelenting perfectionism.
Damon and I began to head over.
“Wait, Ian!” a voice called out.
I felt Damon go still next to me. He must have been just as surprised as I was.
Someone has used my name. That hadn’t happened in a while.
Hell, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d heard my own name said out loud by someone who wasn’t my brother.
We turned to face the voice.
A girl with long dark hair and deep brown eyes stood a few feet away. A cherub face. Long messy strands falling over her cheeks. Mouth gaping open, cheeks flushed red.
Fuck, she was cute.
I sensed Damon about to open his mouth. I spoke before he could.
“What did you call me?”
Damon would have used the word us. I normally would have, as well. But hearing my name spoken out loud…
The girl apologized, rambling a bit with her eyes wide and panicked.
I suppressed a smirk. Damn, but she was adorable.
We played our usual game, trying to trip her up and make her think I was Damon, and Damon was me. She was a smart little thing. She immediately knew we were bullshitting her.
We descended on her, demanding to know who she was. She said she was just an intern. That she wasn’t important.
I immediately knew that was a lie. Someone this quick, this perceptive, would no doubt soon move on to bigger and better things.
We stared her down. Her breathing sped up. She glanced between the two of us, eyes darting back and forth nervously. She couldn’t have just been an intern. She must have been a fan, as well. We made her nervous. I felt sort of bad about that. I knew The Twins could be overwhelming.
But behind the nerves was something else. Something discerning. Just as I was examining her, she was examining us. A look of concentration crossed her face.
I would have given anything to know what she was thinking.
I felt Damon’s displeasure radiating from his tense shoulders.
Whoever this girl was, he didn’t like her.
How had she known which of us was which? Damon and I were indistinguishable. We played it up on purpose. Damian, The Twins, one person in two bodies.
That lump returned to my stomach, churning and tumbling in my gut.
I met Damon’s eyes.
Who the fuck is she? The slight furrow of his eyebrows was practically a snarl in my brother’s twin-speak.
She said she’s just an intern.
The intern should mind her own business.
No need to be so touchy.
What the fuck ever, he grumbled.
I like her, I declared wordlessly. She’s cute.
You and the cute ones, Damon snorted. Why don’t you ever go for the ones with big tits and long legs?
Her tits are fine. Besides, I leave those ones to you.
How thoughtful of you. Damon gave me a probing stare. You wanna fuck her?
I didn’t want to fuck her. Not that I’d say no if she offered. But there was something about this one.
She called me by name.
She knew I wasn’t Damon.
She knew I was Ian.
My brother wouldn’t understand.
Go find out what August wants, I told him. I’ll be right behind you.
Damon stared at me some more before faking a casual shrug and stalking off.
He was pissed. He didn’t like that she could tell us apart.
I got it. I knew why he played up the twin thing. Hell, I played it up, too. I wanted Damon to feel useful. I wanted him to think he was helping.
And it had helped.
I turned my attention back to intern girl.
I just wanted to flirt with her a bit, tease her and throw her off guard. I loved to see them get all flustered and flushed.
She did get flustered, but she also didn’t back down. She gave as good as she got.
And she kept saying my name.
Who was this girl?
Long before I’d had my fill of talking to her, Cam called me over. Concert was about to start.
Intern girl was right. My adoring fans were waiting for me.
But all throughout the concert, as I played to the crowd, I couldn’t help thinking one thing.
I was the one who had been waiting for her.
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