Let the Music Play - 6. A Kiss

After their long talk, feeling far more at ease with one another, Brandon and Chase headed back out to join the others, meeting some unreadable looks.

The topic of conversation in the suite, made all the more obvious by its abrupt cessation, became clearer still as Jon and Eric smirked, looking guilty. Brandon realized what they were thinking and blurted out, “No, we were just talking, honest!”

Shrugging in an attempt to feign disinterest, Jon replied, “None of anybody’s business anyway, so relax.”

Eric elbowed his older brother, “Then how come you started speculating before they’d even been in there for five minutes?”

“I was just, well, they... err…”

His face coloring, Chase growled, “We just talked. I don’t start speculating on what you guys are doing every time you are alone with a girl for a few minutes.”

Holding up his hands in surrender, Eric replied, “Well dude, with Jon, that speculation would usually be right on the money.”

Jon elbowed Eric as Helen snapped, “Let’s get down to business. The first publicity session is Tuesday, a photo shoot. It’s for a magazine article, which will be both interviews and pictures, and it’s how we announce you, Brandon. You need to have some good clothes for the shoot; we need to go shopping tomorrow morning, say around nine?”

Brandon looked at the three brothers, seeking an okay, receiving it as Eric told him, “Go, it’s important, and none of us like getting up early anyway. And don’t bother arguing with Helen, she gets her way no matter what.”

Helen shot Eric a glare before smiling, “I’ll be here at nine. What about the rest of you? Any of you want to come along and let me tell you what to wear?”

Jon grinned, “I think I’ve got plenty, thanks…”

Eric nodded agreement; he knew shopping with Helen could be grating, and assumed that neither of his brothers would want to endure it. He was surprised, though only for a moment, when Chase said, “I could use some new stuff too, so I’ll tag along.” Jon and Eric shared a knowing look; they knew Chase had a ton of clothes and hated shopping with Helen; they’d both guessed his real reasons for wanting to go.

Helen got up to leave, and was out the door before Chase dashed after her, saying over his shoulder, “I forgot to ask her something.” Chase caught up with Helen at the elevator and blurted out, “We need to get him a lot of stuff. I saw his clothes; they’re almost all worn out and old. So, push a little, okay? I think he’ll be kinda embarrassed by his lack of stuff and resist if I suggest it. So, you do the pushing, please? ”

“That’s what I’m good at, so count on it, and thanks for the heads-up,” Helen said before she appraised Chase briefly, “You like him, don’t you?”

Rattled by Helen’s sudden question, not sure how to answer, Chase waffled, “Sure, uh… yeah, he’s a great guy, and the group sure needs him.”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it. I’ve seen how you look at him.”

Blushing, Chase looked down at the carpet as he replied, “Well, yeah, I do, but I don’t know if he could like me the same way. Promise me you won’t tell him...”

With a shrug, Helen replied, “That’s up to you, I won’t say a word. However, you need to keep in mind that he’s far out of his depth here, and feeling uncomfortable. If you make a move and he’s not interested, it could harm your relationship as a group. This is doubly true if something happens between you, and then doesn’t work out. My advice to you would be, just be a friend first, let Brandon adjust, and let him make the first move when he’s ready. I doubt you’ll be waiting long.”

With a soft ‘ding’, the elevator arrived, and Helen stepped in without another word. The door hissed shut, leaving a puzzled Chase to wonder what Helen had meant by her last sentence.

The alarm waking him at eight, Brandon stretched, threw on his boxers, and crept to the bathroom, hoping he wouldn’t wake Jon by showering. After his shower, as he dug through his few clean clothes, he realized just how threadbare most of his things were. Brandon finally found a pair of half-decent tan board shorts, to which he added his Instinct concert shirt and got dressed. Putting on his least tattered shoes Brandon glanced at the clock. Seeing that it was half past eight, he decided to wait out in the hallway, so Helen wouldn’t knock on the door and wake Jon.

Stepping out into the hall, he eased the door closed before finding a chair. Taking a seat, he heard a rumbling noise, as his stomach growled. Checking his watch, an old plastic three-dollar special, he wondered if he would be getting anything to eat this morning, and considered heading downstairs to try and find something. Instead, Brandon decided he could cope no matter what, preferring to stay put in case Helen was early, or Chase showed up. His eyes slowly drifting to a nearby door, he hoped that Chase would still want to come along on the shopping trip.

He enjoyed being around Chase, the feeling of ease he had around him, and felt he had a good friend even if nothing further ever happened. Brandon smiled, reflecting that he’d found good friends in all of them, Helen included. For the first time in a long time, he felt at home, with people he cared about.

Hearing a noise, he turned to see a Room Steward in formal attire pushing a serving cart towards Chase’s door, and then knocking lightly. Chase opened the door, clad in just boxers, motioning for the Room Steward to come in as he spotted Brandon. Padding over in his bare feet, a smile on his sleepy face, he asked, “What are you doing sitting out here?”

“I was up, and I didn’t want Helen to knock and wake Jon.”

Chase gave a sleepy laugh, “Not likely to happen; Jon sleeps like a rock. He even slept through an earthquake once. You could have just come over to my place; the connecting doors aren’t locked.”

“I didn’t know if you were up yet.”

Shrugging, Chase motioned for Brandon to follow with an easy wave of his hand, “Don’t worry about that. We all just go in and out of each other’s rooms, no big deal. So come on in.”

As they entered, the Room Steward whisked away the domed metal covers of a delicious-looking breakfast before leaving. Chase sat down, glancing at Brandon thoughtfully. “Dude, if you were worried about a knock on the door waking Jon, I bet you didn’t order breakfast, right? Did you get something downstairs?”

“Nah, I didn’t want to miss you or Helen if you were early, so I figured I’d skip it and maybe grab something at the food court in the mall.”

Chase snickered, “Mall? Helen won’t be taking us to a mall. She’s real particular when it comes to image, so we usually go to high-end stores and private fitters. Here, share this with me,” Chase said pushing a plate across to Brandon, “I’ll phone down and have them send up another one.”

“Thanks, I’m starving!” Brandon replied as he sat down, his attention split between the delicious smells of bacon and pancakes wafting up, and the even more appealing eye-candy across the small table. They dug in, and the food was even better than Brandon had expected. The second breakfast arrived so fast that Brandon was stunned, “That was fast, and damn, this is good. The pancakes are the best I’ve ever had.”

Mumbling past a mouthful of Denver omelet, Chase replied, “Yeah, the food is always great here. I guess I’m spoiled rotten because I have it so often. I probably couldn’t eat a Denny’s breakfast anymore.”

Brandon laughed, “Dude, to me a Denny’s breakfast was like heaven, compared to what I usually ended up with.”

Chase felt his stomach clench as he realized how he must have sounded – like a spoiled brat. Feeling his cheeks color, he mumbled, unable to meet Brandon’s eyes, “Sorry... I... I know how that must have sounded.”

Busily chewing on a mouthful of pancakes, Brandon glanced up, failing for a moment to understand what Chase had meant, until he saw his face and downcast eyes. His mouth still full, Brandon reached out to touch Chase’s hand to let him know it was okay, before swallowing and rushing to say, “I didn’t mean it like that. Come on, it’s no big deal; hell, if I’d been eating breakfasts like this I’d probably say the same thing...”

“Yeah, but you haven’t... You’ve been eating fucking bread and mustard,” replied a morose Chase.

“Dude, it’s okay, really,” Brandon answered, unconsciously giving his words emphasis with a gentle tightening of his hand on Chase’s.

Both of them glanced down, equally surprised to find their hands intertwined. Both Brandon and Chase wrestled with the same quandary as the awkward moment stretched on; neither knew quite what to do. Pulling their hand away, they both thought, might be taken the wrong way somehow, but leaving them enmeshed as they were might be taken the wrong way, too. In unison, they silently reached the same decision; to let the other one decide the matter.

Several minutes later, discussing the weather, a topic neither could remember who had broached, they finished their breakfasts one-handed, both feigning ignorance of their intertwined hands, though both enjoying the warm feel of the other’s skin. A sharp knock on the door compelled Chase to break the awkward hand-hold as he got up to answer. Helen walked in, spotting Brandon, “Good, I don’t have to try and wake Jon; waking the dead is easier. Chase, you still coming with us?” Helen asked turning her gaze on Chase, “If so, get dressed; you can’t very well go like that.”

Grinning, Chase headed for his dressing area, chuckling, “Yes, Mom.”

Helen sat down across from Brandon to wait, smiling, “Somebody has to keep these guys in line.”

Chase returned minutes later, causing Brandon to do a fast double-take, trying and failing in his effort not to stare as Chase sauntered in, wearing tight low-rise button-fly ripped jeans, high-tops, a black spiked belt with a matching wristband, and a snug, scoop-front ribbed white muscle shirt topped by mirrored wrap-around aviator shades. Brandon couldn't help but notice that Chase's golden-tan arms stood out perfectly against the white T, and the way his blond hair was combed to hang just above the sunglasses.

The glint of gold from Chase's upper chest caught Brandon's eye; a gold Ankh on leather cord, hanging much lower than the shell choker around his neck. The contrast of white shells against tan skin topped by blond hair was one of Brandon's favorite looks, and he never noticed his jaw dropping slightly open.

Helen noticed how Brandon was staring at Chase, and decided to let him off the hook and make a point at the same time. "Brandon, that's the kind of stuff you need to wear. You need to both look good and feel good; it's a critical part of the image."

Tearing his eyes away from Chase with great effort, Brandon smiled, “Yeah, he does know how to dress...”

“To be honest,” Chase smiled, “Helen picked these out. She’s a pain, but she’s the best.”

Helen laughed. “Ok, ingrate, let’s get going!”

She led the two guys out of the hotel via the lobby. Waiting outside the main entrance was a white stretch limousine, the driver standing beside it smartly opening the door as Helen approached. Chase followed her in, and Brandon hesitantly climbed in, taking a seat opposite Chase and Helen as he looked in shock at his surroundings, every inch covered by leather, wood, or glass, before blurting, “Wow... I’ve never been in one of these before.”

Helen snickered, “If you think I’d ride with one of these guys, no way. I’ve seen how they drive.”

“We aren’t that bad,” Chase grumbled.

Fixing the drummer in her steely gaze, Helen replied, “Yes you are,” before turning her attention to Brandon, “The gentleman standing at the door is not just our Chauffeur, but our security as well. He’ll tag along with us when needed. He’s there to protect us. Günter, this is Brandon, our new front man, and Brandon, this is Günter, and if he starts giving orders, it’s for our safety, so you follow them without question or hesitation, understood?”

Brandon nodded and shook Günter’s hand before Günter eased the door closed. Once in the driver’s seat, he lowered the glass partition and asked, “Where to today, Ma'am?”

“Hershel’s, I think…” The partition went up, and as the Limo eased into the atrocious traffic, inching west on Wilshire, Helen teased, “See, Brandon? Not such a bad way to travel...”

“I just assumed we’d be going in your car, because Chase drives a two-seater.” Brandon struggled to keep a straight face as he added, “If my starter wasn’t dead, I’d have offered to drive us in mine.”

Pretending to be serious, Helen replied, “If you’d tried to get me into that, I’d have run you over!” In a true serious tone, she added, “The real reason we are in this Limo is so we can have Günter with us. One of the downsides to the life you are entering is the need for security. Even without the crazies or criminals, there’s always the risk of one of you being recognized while out in public and being mobbed. All jokes aside, that can be a danger to both you and the fans. Therefore, we need people like Günter to handle that.” Jabbing a thumb in Chase’s direction, she added, “Pretty boy here is wearing shades, but isn’t exactly in disguise. That’s fine for where we are going but I was glad you thought of him yesterday when you went to your hotel. These guys tend to forget and that can be risky. You need to keep those good instincts and also learn to disguise yourself a bit so you can go out in public.”

Brandon nodded in agreement, although he replied, “Yeah, I can do that, but I don’t think I’ll need to worry too much; it’s not like anybody will recognize me until at least after Phoenix.”

Reaching across to prod a finger in his chest, Helen shook her head. “Wrong. Remember the publicity shoot and interviews? That’s a rush job, because the magazine goes to press just a few days later, and will be on every supermarket checkout and newsstand in the country forty-eight hours after that – less than a week from today. You are the prime focus because you’re new and the front man, hence your pictures will be prominently featured. The name of the magazine, by the way, is Rolling Stone.”

Brandon choked, gasping, “You have got to be kidding me...”

“I kid you not. I had to pull quite a few strings to get this, but it’s the best way to introduce you. So, now you see why you need some good clothes; this shoot is very important.”

Brandon looked at Chase, then at Helen, searching for some sign they were pulling his leg, but found none. In stunned silence, he glanced out the window, seeing the stores at the entrance to Rodeo Drive pass by. He’d only ever seen it on TV, but recognized it. The Limo pulled into an alley, and Brandon was amazed when a back door opened and they were quickly ushered into a building. Once inside, Helen left to talk with the store’s manager, and Chase, noticing his friend’s pallid face, asked, “You okay? You look kinda shook up.”

“That’s an understatement if ever there was one. This is all like a dream, a whirlwind... dude, was that on the level about Rolling Stone?”

“Yeah, Helen wouldn’t kid about that. Relax, it’s good news. They’ve done articles on us before and they’re great to work with. Hey, looks like Helen is ready, let’s go get you some new gear.” With Chase leading the way, they were ushered into a private room. Brandon felt confused and anxious as they sat down, looking around the small but lavish room, which evoked the feel of eighteenth-century elegance, with a little touch of Disney.

As the manager wheeled in a rack of clothes, Chase whispered, “That’s how they do it here. Helen told him what we wanted, and they show us some selections, we try them on, and then they custom-fit whatever we pick. I’m probably going to get some stuff too, so let me go first and you can see how they do it.” Chase got up, browsing the selection, and picked out a pair of black jeans along with an open-sided muscle shirt. He held them up for Helen, who nodded, and headed for an adjoining changing room. Helen accompanied Brandon to the selections, sizing him up with a sideways glance before she began grabbing armfuls of clothes. In the blur of motion, he saw board shorts, jeans, and all kinds of T’s and accessories.

Chase returned, decked out in the new clothes, spinning for a full turn before heading back, as Helen asked Brandon, “Looks good, huh? He’s got good style, that one, along with a good sense of his looks and how to show them off. You need to do the same. You look great, but you need to dress to show it off. Now, go try this stuff on.”

After an hour of watching the guys try on the various clothes, Helen made her selections; everything from Abercrombie-type stuff to concert shirts, adding a few accessories such as belts, and included some shoes for Brandon; expensive high-tops and two pairs of running shoes. The manager added sets of boxers and socks. Brandon had added one shirt he’d found that both Chase and Helen had loved. Looking at the growing pile, he fought the urge to whistle; he hadn’t failed to notice that nothing had a price tag. A thought occurring to him, he turned and asked Helen, “What about something for the concert? I’m taking Lump’s place, so should I get something like he wears; the black trench coat and stuff?”

Replying with a harsh glare, Helen snapped, “Do not even suggest such a thing! Lump picked out his own stuff and it was utter crap. Besides, it’s best for a lot of reasons for you to have a different look. I’ll help you with that, and you won’t be looking anything like Lump, that much I promise.”

Chase returned and told Brandon, “Now you get to go for your measurements...”

* * *

Waiting was indeed the hardest part, thought The Scar as he paced in the international arrival lounge of Rome’s Da Vinci airport. Nervously rubbing the old wound on his head, he attempted to remain calm. If they’d been discovered, he reasoned, he’d already be under arrest. A familiar profile, glimpsed for but a moment through the crowd of arriving passengers, elicited a sigh of relief; Dimitri. After the briefest of eye contact, they made their separate ways to the Taxi rank, seeking to appear, to any casual onlooker, to share a cab by happenstance. During the long ride north into Rome, they maintained the outward appearance of two strangers idly commenting on the sights they hoped to see. For one brief instant, their eyes met, Dimitri answering the unspoken question with the barest of nods. The Scar replied with a casual hand gesture, a barely perceptible flick of two fingers, followed by three.

Arriving at their destination, a small hotel on the Piazza Navona, they split the taxi fare, including a modest tip. Entering the hotel first, The Scar retreated at a casual pace to the room he’d booked, clicking on the TV as he entered. Minutes later, Dimitri joined him, walking into room thirty-two through the unlocked door. The Scar glanced up from the handheld device he’d used to sweep the room, “It’s likely clear; no bugs that I can detect. I paid cash, usual procedures. I think this is as safe as anywhere.”

His cold, practiced eyes taking in the room out of long habit, Dimitri took a seat, speaking barely loud enough to be heard above the noise from the TV, “The Engineer has been successful. Thirty kilos, at one million per kilo; more expensive than we had hoped, but not overly so. The purity is less than claimed; a fraction over seven percent PU-240, on average. The Engineer assures me that this is no problem; he can compensate for it in the design.”

The Scar nodded, asking the most pressing question on his mind, “How will they make delivery to us?”

Dimitri’s eyes wandered to the window before he answered, “By freighter, concealed within a shipment of decorative Siberian Granite, destined for use in kitchen countertops. The natural slight radioactivity of Granite should mask any radiation from our cargo, though a check is unlikely in any case.

“And the payment?”

“Numbered Swiss accounts, upon delivery to the freighter.”

The Scar considered that, “A pity they would not wait a few months; they might have lived to receive it.”

Dimitri nodded, “Arrangements will be made.”

The two men moved as one to the room’s single bed, taking care to disarrange the sheets and covers before leaving the room. Passing through the small lobby a minute apart, feigning hurry and shame, they met again outside the entrance, glancing around the vast oblong Piazza, detecting no sign of surveillance, but following their plan nonetheless. The two men walked, their arms brushing, towards the nearest fountain, to stand before it as their fingers intertwined.

Pausing for a moment to admire the Fontana dei Fiumi’s stonework and the brass piping bedecked with the patina of age, they gazed up at the Egyptian Obelisk soaring skyward from the top of the fountain. Turning to face one another, they exchanged crafted smiles of longing and desire. With a lingering look, and a slow parting of their hands, they bid each other farewell with a furtive, hurried kiss, wishing to appear to any observer merely as surreptitious lovers. Though both were straight, neither felt any qualms; it was basic fieldcraft, after all.

* * *

Returning from having his measurements taken, in itself a somewhat embarrassing process, Brandon’s eyes widened in puzzlement as he realized that the clothes were gone from the room. Helen noticed his puzzled look and explained, “They have to make a few alterations for a perfect fit, so they’ll do that and send them to the hotel this afternoon. They normally deliver stuff so that shoppers don’t have to carry packages.”

The manager brought Helen a black leather folio, identical to those found in expensive restaurants for presenting the bill, and Brandon realized that was precisely what it was.

Helen was reaching for the corporate charge card when she felt Brandon’s insistent hand on her arm, and heard him ask softly, “Let me use that card you gave me for this, please...”

Helen noted the almost desperate tone of Brandon’ request, and understood what he must be feeling; wounded pride, seeking some small measure of redress. “Okay, if you want, but you don’t need to, you know.”

“I do need to. That’s more money than I’ve ever seen in my life, and I want to do something to show I’m not freeloading. Please Helen; I really need to do this.”

Brandon took the leather folio, opened it, and nearly dropped it. Talk about sticker shock!

He stared at all the digits, his stomach churning as he realized the total bill was more than four thousand dollars. He looked up, his mouth falling open, to find Helen grinning as she said, “See? Let me put it on the corporate card...”

“No, I want to do this, but, my god! I knew it would be expensive, but this is astronomical...”

Helen chuckled, “It’s Rodeo Drive, hon, and it’s not bad, really, because that includes the tailoring. And don’t you dare try and send anything back; you’ll look great in all of it.”

Staring down at the bill in shock, Brandon numbly put his debit card in the folder before handing it to the polite manager. The manager was back in seconds, with a receipt to sign, and a place for the PIN number. Even that was strange; in any normal place, you didn’t trust people with PIN numbers.

Chase returned, and Helen led them to the street, telling Chase, “Brandon insisted on paying for that, yours too, and I think he’s in shock from the price.”

Giving his stunned friend a slap on the back, Chase told him, “You shouldn’t have, but thanks... and yeah, pricy huh?”

Glancing around the street, Brandon felt the last remaining vestiges of reality depart. The brick street wove its way uphill, between rows of stores and restaurants, with the architecture reminding him of pictures he’d seen of Rome, though far more lavish and gaudy.

The next store Helen shooed them into carried swimwear. Again, they were led to a private room, this time with a much larger selection, though just of swimwear. Brandon wondered if Chase would model some for them, hoping that he would, clueless to the fact that Chase was thinking precisely the same of him. Remembering the cost, Brandon remarked, “I’ve got some shorts and stuff for swimming, so I don’t really need anything from here.”

Seizing him by the arm, Helen countered, “Actually, you do. Since Lump is gone, we aren’t under his moronic rules and can show you guys off to full advantage. I’m thinking of some shots of you guys by the pool as part of the photo spread. Those three have plenty of stuff they look good in, but you need several so we can work with different mixes and looks. You never know what the photographer will want.”

The butterflies returning to his stomach, Brandon replied, “I’ve got to have my picture taken in a swimsuit, for Rolling Stone, in three days? You should have warned me... I’ve got to hit the gym, like now!”

Helen and Chase shared a chuckle as she pawed through the table of proffered swimwear, shaking her head, “That’s not a concern; you’re in great shape for this. What you should do though is get some sun; your tan could be a little darker, because the lights for the indoor shots can really pale you out. The tan can be done with makeup if need be, but take it from me, hon, the look you have now is ideal; you don’t want to bulk up. If anything, just do some sit-ups the morning before, so your abs are nice and defined.”

Brandon relaxed a little, though still apprehensive, asking, “What did you mean about Lump’s rules?

His happy expression clouding, Chase replied, “Lump was real sensitive about his looks. He insisted that we not, as he put it, show him up, so no sexy clothes for photo shoots or on stage.”

Helen snorted, “Yeah, he was a stickler about that. These guys did their first big concert in Phoenix and it was a scorcher of a day, so they all went out on stage shirtless. Lump was already out there, so couldn’t say a word. He was in his usual black trench coat, black slacks and baggy t-shirt, and it was over a hundred degrees on stage. He was sweating like a pig and glaring at the other three. You should have been backstage after the concert, he went off like a bomb, swearing up a blue streak, accusing the guys of humiliating him. So, he decided that from then on, nobody would show him up, which meant no more good clothes and no more shirtless on stage or in photos.”

Looking at Chase, Brandon replied, “Yeah, I was surprised you guys never played shirtless after that. But, Chase, you still do?”

Helen grinned. “Oh yes, pretty boy here always does. He told Lump in no uncertain terms that playing drums is hard work, and no way was he going to cook in a shirt. Eric and Jon kind of went along to keep Lump quiet, but Chase told him where to stick it, literally. But, then again, pretty boy likes to show off and hardly ever wears a shirt anyway.” Chase blushed in response, suddenly finding his own shoes very interesting. Helen continued, “So, we are now free to show you guys off. You’re all good-looking and we should use it. This is business, and in business you never pass up any possible competitive edge.”

Chase picked out a swimsuit and left the room. Brandon began to browse too, but Helen picked out some for him. Hearing footsteps behind him, he turned to see Chase return, and Brandon felt his jaw literally drop; Chase had on a pair of lace-up Aussie football shorts, and nothing else but his sunglasses. The medium-blue shorts went perfectly with his tan and build. Brandon managed to stop gawking, and Chase grinned, turning back for the changing room once Helen had nodded her approval. Distracted by the view, Brandon forgot about Helen and stared as Chase left. Her voice jarred him back to reality, “I see that look. You have a thing for him, don’t you?”

Brandon squirmed under her gaze, his eyes falling, wondering how to get out of this, and what Helen would think. He muttered, “No point in denying it, I suppose? Yeah... he’s like a perfect ten, and the more I get to know him, the more I like him. I don’t know if he could feel the same way about me though, and I’m new around here so this sure isn’t the time to make anyone uneasy around me.” Continuing in an urgent whisper, he pleaded, “Please don’t tell him. Please, Helen…”

Throwing up her hands, she interrupted, “Okay, okay, I promise; no need to beg. But I wouldn’t worry so much if I were you...” Chase’s return effectively ended the conversation as he strolled out in a yellow and black lycra boxer-brief style suit, and Helen shook her head. Chase shrugged and headed back, with Brandon silently cursing Helen for rejecting that hot-looking suit, at least before he got a chance to sneak in a good look.

She saw Brandon’ expression and read it, joking, “Now, now, hon, don’t fret. Chase has lots of stuff like that, which you will see him in sooner or later.” Brandon squirmed, trying to decide if Helen could read minds, or if he was just being too obvious.

Back in his own clothes, Chase returned, and Helen handed Brandon a few suits before shooing him off to change. He came out in a pair of lime green jogging shorts, and grinned as he did a turn, noticing Helen nod approvingly. While Brandon was in the next room putting on the next swimsuit, Helen leaned over to Chase and said quietly, “Good thing you have those sunglasses on; that way he won’t see your eyes popping out of your head.”

Blushing, he replied, “Was it that obvious? You don’t think he noticed, do you? And remember, you promised...”

Helen snorted, wondering how long it would be before the two guys discovered their mutual infatuation, “Yeah, I know. I’ll keep my trap shut.”

After both guys had made a few more trips to the changing room, Helen picked out several swimsuits for Brandon, including the yellow and black suit she’d rejected on Chase. Chase took just the Aussie shorts, and again Brandon paid, trying not to gawk at the prices.

Strolling along the shops further up Rodeo Drive, Brandon bought himself a pair of sunglasses similar to Chase’s. Moments later, while Chase was out of earshot, Helen whispered, “Good choice; this way he won’t see your eyes bulging out of your head as often.”

Chase rejoined them a moment later, wondering why Brandon had turned an odd shade of crimson. Helen suggested lunch at a cafe on the left, and as they entered, Brandon couldn’t help but notice the lavish Greco-Roman decor, as the waiter led them to a patio near the sidewalk.

Brandon noted that the menu had no prices, but ordered a salad. Chase ordered a Monte Christo sandwich, leaving Brandon puzzled what that was, while Helen had lasagna.

The food appeared with surprising speed, and Chase, noting Brandon’s curious look, gave him a slice of his deep-fried ham, turkey, and bacon sandwich. As they relaxed and ate, a group of teenaged girls walking by on the sidewalk a dozen feet away stopped and pointed, giggling excitedly, and Brandon clearly heard Chase’s name mentioned. Brandon grinned. “Looks like you have fans gathering, Chase”

Helen, always the teacher, spoke up. “This is normal when he’s out in public without a disguise. He’s also dressed to draw attention, and that’s okay here, but elsewhere it can cause trouble. Chase, go sign some autographs, stay behind the railing, but clear out right away if the crowd grows. Don’t mention your new singer; we want that to be announced to our best advantage.”

“Okay, Mom. Back in a few,” he replied before ambling over to meet his fans.

* * *

Brandon watched in amusement, noticing that Chase handled the situation really well, being friendly, but moving with studied purpose from autograph to autograph. Helen read Brandon again, and added “I see you are watching how he does that, and learning. Good instincts; use ‘em. I don’t often give compliments, so listen up; you’re doing really well. I know all this is strange to you, but you have impressed me several times already.”

“Thanks. I’m kind of a fish out of water, and I know it, so I’m just trying to pick up what I can. This is all so new to me, and I realize there is a lot I don’t know. I’ve no clue how to do a lot of this stuff, like shopping today, or what to say for the interview, or how to do a photo shoot. I’ve never even seen one done,” Brandon nodded towards Chase, “Or what Chase is doing now. He’s actually managing the situation, but appearing not to. I’d have had no clue at all.”

“Listen up; sure, you have some new things to learn, but one big thing I see is that you know what you don’t know, and automatically set out to learn it, like watching Chase there. These guys have been doing this for a while now and are used to it. They had to learn too, you know. They or I will help you with anything you need, so don’t hesitate to ask. One thing I do think I should point out; like I said, these guys are now pros at this stuff but, yesterday, who was it who got Chase into a disguise? He’s the experienced one, and he forgot about it, didn’t he? Yet you, with no experience, knew and helped him. As I say, you have a feel for this, so just keep doing like you’re doing and you’ll be fine. However, I’ve got to be your teacher, so I need to point out that you made one small mistake today.” Brandon instantly tugged on his Instinct concert shirt. Helen nodded, “Damn, you are a quick study. I’d have never guessed you would figure that out on your own.”

With a shy grin, Brandon replied, “I realized as soon as we left the hotel that it wasn’t a bright idea. It could draw attention to Chase and make people recognize him, but it’s the only half-decent shirt I had.”

Helen shrugged, “Not anymore, so next time dress up a bit. Look at Chase, he’s a sharp dresser and always draws attention. So will you, hon. Even more, because the front man always does.”

The bill arrived, sequestered within a leather folio, giving Brandon the opportunity to snatch it from Helen’s grasp. Again, the price appalled him, but he tried his best to hide any reaction as he signed the chit. Chase broke away from his fan club, heading towards the rear of the restaurant. Helen followed with Brandon in tow, surprised to find the Limo waiting outside the rear door, with Günter waiting for them inside. Brandon was bemused; how had Günter known where they were, and that they wanted to go? Helen saw the look, filling him in as the entered the limo, “It’s all part of the concierge service. We come here fairly often, so the maître d' knows Günter’s cell number. When they noticed that Chase had been recognized and was meeting with fans, they called Günter. After one of you is recognized in public, we always try and leave the scene quickly.” Brandon marveled at that, he sure had a lot to learn, and he really was in a strange new world.

They returned to the hotel to find Jon and Eric kicking back watching TV. Eric, wearing a mischievous grin, asked Brandon, “Did Helen drive you nuts?”

“She sure isn’t shy, and that’s a fact, but I had a blast. I’ve never done anything like that before. We rode in a limo; had private showings and fittings, then had lunch on Rodeo Drive... it was awesome.” Jon and Eric grinned at the reaction of their friend, glad that he had enjoyed it.

With an approving nod, Helen declared, “He did great. He’s got a passable eye for style, he just needs some practice. I need to take him back to my office for some paperwork, and I’ll have him back in an hour.”

With a nod, Jon replied, “We need to do some writing anyway, Brandon. Go have fun with paperwork.”

After Helen had dragged Brandon away, Chase sat down with his brothers, and Eric couldn’t resist having some fun. “So, Chase, did you model some swimwear for him?”

Chase blushed hard, wondering how the heck his brother had known that. Jon smirked “We know you too well, little bro. So, that bright red you just turned would be a definite yes? Did you guys get a chance to talk?”

“Not about what you mean... but Jeeze, am I that obvious? Helen picked up on me right away too.”

Eric laughed. “We just know you… and maybe you should just tell him. The worst that could happen is he tells you that you aren’t his type, and end up being just friends.”

Noticing Jon’s look of disagreement with Eric’s advice, reading more into it than was actually there, Chase shook his head, “If I do that, I could make him feel uncomfortable, and he’s already uncomfortable enough being the new guy. He feels really awkward sometimes, I can see it.”

With a nod, Jon agreed, “I think we all noticed that. I saw how he looked when we gave him that debit card. Guys, he grew up kinda poor and recently he’s been totally poor. All this is going to take some getting used to and it’s all happening to him at once. He’s got to get used to being in a band, all the other stuff that goes with it, plus the money, so he feels self-conscious and way out of his depth. Remember how overwhelmed we all felt when Instinct got going? Well we all had each other and it was gradual, so let’s do what we can for Brandon to help him get comfortable before you ask him out, okay?”

They all readily agreed with that, and Chase added, “He’s uncomfortable, for sure, but he’s being really cool too. When the bill for the clothes came, Helen was going to put it on the corporate tab like always, but Brandon insisted on paying for both his stuff and mine. He looked like he’d drop dead when he saw the tab, and it was barely four grand. He did the same for the swimwear and our lunch; he’s really cool.”

Eric drummed his fingers on the table, “He also feels inadequate, so no matter how he feels about you, he won’t tell you. You need to make the first move.”

Chase squirmed; he knew his brother was right, but he just wasn’t ready… yet.