The Limelight

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The Limelight Page 5

by Louisa Keller


  He broke into a wide grin and added, “This one goes out to the ridiculously good-looking guy who swooped in at the last minute to save the tour. You know who you are, buddy.” Shooting a positively lecherous look in my direction, Levi blasted into the final song. It was high energy, punchy and over-the-top and perfect for the finale.

  I was still reeling from the moment I had just had with Levi—in front of thousands of people, no less—and I barely heard a word. But my mind clicked into place as Levi caught my eye again, singing:

  You’re the one, oh yeah, the one I’ve been searching foooooor.

  I found myself, a few hours later, sitting alone in the hotel room I was sharing with Cooper. Everyone else was out at some bar celebrating, but I wanted nothing more than the peace and quiet of an empty room with a warm bed. I was sitting propped up against several pillows, drinking cheap chamomile tea out of a disposable paper cup when I heard a knock on the door.

  My first instinct was to ignore it. There was no way anybody was looking for me at this hour…it was probably just somebody who had mixed up their room number. But the knocking persisted, and after a moment a voice called, “Porter?”

  My brows knitting together, I set down my tea and padded softly to the door. I opened it a couple of inches and looked down to find Levi standing there.

  “Levi?” I asked. “What are you doing here?”

  Levi smiled, holding up a Styrofoam to-go container. “I thought you might be hungry.”

  “It’s two in the morning,” I said, but I opened the door wider.

  “I figured you wouldn’t be sleeping, what with the time difference,” said Levi brightly.

  I opened my mouth to protest, but my traitorous stomach chose that moment to grumble loudly. Levi grinned and pushed his way into the room, flopping onto Cooper’s untouched bed and sighing deeply.

  “Would you like some tea?” I asked, picking my own cup back up and fiddling with the sleeve.

  “Nah, I’m good, thanks,” said Levi. “We got a bunch of free drinks at the bar, and then Cooper insisted that we all drink, like, a shitload of water so we won’t be hungover on our first travel day. I’m kind of all drinked-out.”

  I made a sympathetic noise. “He’s right, you know. Riding around in a bus with a hangover isn’t exactly fun.”

  Levi smirked. “It sounds like you have experience.”

  “Maybe,” I said, shrugging. Then I gestured toward the container in Levi’s hands. “What did you bring me?”

  “Oh,” said Levi, handing it over quickly, “it’s a quesadilla. We were at this really divey bar and I ordered one and it was out of this world, so I decided to bring you one too.”

  “That’s…really sweet,” I admitted.

  “I’m glad you think so,” said Levi with a soft smile.

  I opened the container and an incredible smell wafted out. “Good god, this smells amazing,” I sighed as I grabbed a slice.

  “I know, right?” said Levi. “I want to track down the line cook from the bar and propose.”

  “Oh wow, yeah, me too,” I said.

  “Maybe we can arrange some kind of thruple situation,” said Levi with a laugh.

  “Eh,” I said after I had swallowed my bite, “I’m not so hot on the whole threesome thing. Too many limbs to navigate, don’t you think?”

  Levi’s answering laughter was high and bright and completely perfect. His eyes shone brightly as he reached out to put his hand on my knee.

  I’m completely gone on this guy, I thought with a thrill.

  “I’ll have you know that I’m excellent at multitasking. But you’re right, three people is an awful lot for one sexual encounter.”

  “Heh, tell that to Leo,” I said. “He’s extremely proud of his threesome prowess.”

  “I’ll make sure to give him a high five next time I see him,” said Levi.

  We lapsed into silence as I finished my food, just enjoying each other’s company.

  “It’s weird,” I said after a while. “After the show all I wanted was to be alone, but it’s actually really nice to have you here.”

  “I’m glad to hear it,” said Levi. “Are you generally pretty introverted?”

  I nodded. “I need a lot of alone time to recharge after social interactions. It’s funny though, sometimes I don’t mind having certain people around while I’m recharging.”

  “Like your roommates?” asked Levi.

  “Yeah,” I said. “It’s like, somehow they’re not…I don’t know…emotionally taxing? Does that make sense?”

  “It totally does,” said Levi, “I’m very much the same way. I can go for a long time without taking me time, but sometimes all I want is to shut out the world for a few hours. And when I’m like that most people drive me crazy, but if Dalton shows up with nail polish and a magazine, it doesn’t bother me at all.”

  “Does she paint your nails?” I teased.

  “Sometimes,” said Levi, shrugging. “Nail polish isn’t just for girls, dude.”

  “I know that,” I said seriously. “Gender is a social construct. I don’t think that liking manicures says anything about you other than that you like manicures.”

  Levi grinned and pulled off one of his socks. “Good, because I’m rocking a pretty rad pedicure at the moment.”

  I couldn’t have said why, afterwards, but something about the turn in the conversation quelled any remaining anxiety in my chest. I slowly reached out toward Levi, leaning forward slightly to bridge the gap between the two beds. My hand came to rest against the strong jut of his jaw, and he pressed into the touch immediately.

  He feels so good in my hands.

  “Is this okay?” I asked, my voice trembling with the gravity of the moment.

  Levi, who had closed his eyes, nodded. “Of course, Porter.”

  “You were magnificent tonight,” I told him, my voice quiet and confidential. “I didn’t think being in the crowd would be different than any other show I’ve ever been to, but you…you were remarkable. Like nothing I’ve ever seen before.”

  Levi’s eyes flickered open, so very green, bordered with a thick layer of eyeliner from the show.

  “The moment I realized you were there, watching…” Levi broke off, turning to press a gentle kiss against my palm.

  “You feel this too?” I breathed.

  There had been a tiny, insecure part of me that had doubted, until that moment, whether my feelings were reciprocated.

  “Of course I feel this,” said Levi, and I let out a sigh of relief. “How could I not?”

  “Can I kiss you?” I asked, the words tumbling out of me. “I mean,” I rushed to add, “I know you were drinking earlier, if you’d rather wait—”

  “My sweet Porter,” murmured Levi, his lips twitching into a smile. “I would like nothing more.” And with that he was pushing forward, joining me on my bed and kissing me deeply. Levi maneuvered us so that I was lying on my back, with him straddling me—but the kiss didn’t escalate. Despite our pose, we kissed each other gently, kindly, carefully. And when we did finally pull apart, I was dazed in the very best way.

  “I should go,” murmured Levi, resting his head on my chest.

  “Do you have to?” I asked, startling myself.

  Where did that come from? I thought. It was as if I had gone from zero to sixty, leaving trepidation behind and boldly asking for what I wanted.

  “I think I do,” said Levi. “I feel…so much when I’m around you. And I think we should take things slow.”

  I nodded, wrapping my arms clumsily around Levi’s waist. “That sounds…very reasonable.”

  “Yep,” said Levi. Then, “You’ll have to let me go if I’m going to leave.”

  I flushed, releasing Levi. “I meant to tell you…”

  Levi sat up slowly, stretching out his back and cracking his neck. “Yeah?”

  “I just, um, wanted to thank you.”

  “What for?” asked Levi as he stood up.

  I cast him a f
ond look. “For the song. The one you dedicated to me tonight.”

  “Oh,” said Levi, looking delighted. “I’m glad you enjoyed it. It’s actually one that Dalton wrote not long after she met Eddie.”

  “So…you hijacked your best friend’s love song and repurposed it to seduce a guy you just met?” I asked, laughing.

  “Something like that,” said Levi. “Did it work?”

  “Time will tell,” I said, trying my best to be coy. I could tell from his smile that I wasn’t being very successful.

  “I guess it will,” said Levi, leaning down to kiss me once more. Then he walked away, closing the door firmly behind him.

  4

  Levi

  Portland, ME/Concord, NH

  “Up and at ’em,” shouted Dalton as she leapt onto my bed, unceremoniously jolting me from sleep.

  Asshole.

  “Fuck off,” I mumbled sleepily.

  “No can do,” said Dalton. “We have to be on the bus in T-minus fifteen minutes. Eddie’s in the shower now but you can hop in after she’s done.”

  “What time is it even?” I asked groggily. I was not in the mood to be awake, and as my best friend, Dalton should have known that.

  “A little past noon. Cooper let us sleep in, thank god. You think he’ll be this nice for the entire tour? Or is he just buttering us up so we won’t become insufferable once we’re rock gods?” Dalton asked.

  “I dunno,” I said. “Why don’t you go ask him?”

  And leave me the fuck alone.

  “Fat chance,” said Dalton. “The minute I leave, you’re just going to crawl back under the covers.”

  “And that’s a bad thing?” I countered. It was goddamn infuriating how well she knew me.

  “I mean, it is if you want to get to Concord before they give our hotel rooms to somebody else. Come on dude, you have a bunk on the bus, you can literally go right back to sleep as soon as you get on there.”

  Well, she did have a point. But I wasn’t about to admit that to her.

  “Fine, fine,” I said, wrenching back the covers. I flinched as my eyes adjusted to the bright room. “But I want it on record that I do not approve of being up this early the day after a show.”

  “Don’t be a drama queen,” said Dalton, laughing. She pounded on the bathroom door and called, “Eddie! Babe! You gotta get out so Levi can shower.”

  “I guess I should just be glad you’re not in there with her right now, getting it on,” I said darkly.

  Dalton smirked and said, “You’re damn right.”

  The bus had seen better days.

  And, I mean, I know we’ve already covered the fact that I had unrealistic expectations for my first ever tour bus. But seriously, this was like something out of a Nickelodeon show.

  Our bus had clearly escorted hundreds of bands just like ours on national tours, and the inside hadn’t been updated since well before Y2K. There was a cluster of bunks in the back—narrow, claustrophobic things stacked three-high—and I shuddered to think about how many people had slept there before us. Or fucked there. Or jerked off there. I hoped someone had cleaned them thoroughly because I did not want to get herpes from my bunk.

  In front of the bunks, there was a small sitting area and a TV with a duel DVD player-slash-VCR.

  “Oh wow,” I said, my voice dripping with condescension, “I didn’t realize we were traveling back to 1999. I would have brought more plaid.”

  “Don’t worry, bro,” said Eddie, who was wearing a flannel. “D and I have got you covered.”

  “Don’t bitch about the entertainment system,” said Cooper as he tossed his duffel bag onto one of the bunks. “Besides, I asked for something more modern, but they said My Chemical Romance took the last nice bus for their current tour.”

  I flipped him off, sinking down into a plush seat and sighing deeply. “I don’t mean to complain,” I began, but Cooper cut me off.

  “Yes, you do,” he said flatly.

  “But,” I said, raising my voice, “I really thought that Pigeon Kiss Media was going to treat us to all the…you know, nice stuff.”

  “They only do that if you sign a bigger contract,” sighed Cooper. “I mean, if you want to sell your soul for a three-album deal, be my guest. But I really think you’ll get better offers if you wait until you get some traction from this tour.”

  “We know, Coop,” said Eddie. “You’ve explained this about a million times. Sorry Levi can’t retain anything you say to him.” She stuck her tongue out at me and then ducked into her own bunk. “I’m going back to sleep. Wake me up when we get there.”

  “Hey,” I protested as Dalton appeared in the doorway. I turned to address her. “Your girlfriend is bullying me.”

  “I’m sure she has a good reason,” said Dalton loftily, sitting down across from me.

  “She most certain does not,” I said.

  “Is this what the whole tour is going to be like?” groaned Cooper.

  “Yes,” Dalton and I said in tandem.

  Cooper shook his head, looking exhausted. “I never should’ve agreed to help you out with this. I could be on the beach in LA right now, far away from your ridiculous bickering.”

  “Aw, come on Coop,” wheedled Dalton, “we know you love us.”

  “Do I though?” Cooper asked, quirking one eyebrow.

  “No doubt about it,” I said firmly.

  I knew—and Dalton knew, and Cooper knew—that we were more than just cousins, more than just musician and manager. Cooper was my brother in every way that counted. And goddammit, we loved each other.

  “Where’s…uh…what’s his name? The driver?” asked Dalton, looking around as if she expected him to appear out of the ether.

  “He’ll be here in a minute,” said Cooper. “The crew is just finishing loading everything up, I told him he didn’t need to rush.”

  I spluttered indignantly. “You made us haul ass down here at this wretched hour—”

  “It’s past noon,” interjected Dalton, smiling fondly at me.

  “—at this wretched hour,” I continued, unperturbed, “and yet you let Porter mosey on down at his leisure?”

  Cooper nodded. “You three are a nightmare to corral. It’s like herding cats. Porter seems perfectly capable of time keeping. Maybe I’ll rush him if he ever sleeps through an interview.”

  “That was one time,” I protested. “And it’s not like it was Rolling Stone. A local college radio station isn’t exactly going to make or break our career.”

  “It’s a matter of principle,” sniffed Cooper.

  Which was totally unfair.

  At that moment Porter appeared at the door, a duffel bag over his shoulder and a nervous smile on his lips. I stared at him, and I could feel my face rearranging itself into a dreamy expression. Disgusting.

  Porter looked damn good, his dark hair still mussed from sleep. He was wearing a pair of track pants that looked unbelievably comfy, and a soft cotton shirt with a faded screen print of David Bowie emblazoned across the chest. I wanted to snuggle up to him, run my hands through that gorgeous hair, feel the scratch of Porter’s stubble against my neck.

  And so much more.

  “Uh, hi,” said Porter, making his way back to the sitting area. He ran a nervous hand through his hair and held a hand out to Dalton. “I’m Porter.”

  I wasn’t generally a swooner, but his attempt at professionalism made me kind of want to swoon.

  “Dalton,” she replied, shaking his hand firmly. “It’s nice to meet you, dude.”

  “Yeah, you as well,” said Porter. He turned to Cooper, “Are we ready to get this show on the road?”

  “Yeah, we should be good,” said Cooper. “The crew’s bus already pulled out and everyone is accounted for here.”

  “Awesome,” said Porter, shooting me a quick, private smile before heading up to the driver’s seat and starting the bus.

  All of my feelings from the night before—affection, longing, arousal—came bubbling back up
.

  “Oh. My. God.” Dalton mouthed at me. I promptly kicked her.

  “Cut that out,” snapped Cooper. “God, we’re one day in and you’re already giving me a migraine. I’m going to go lie down.”

  As soon as he was out of earshot, Dalton began to interrogate me. “What the hell was that look?” she hissed.

  I glanced toward the front of the bus, wondering how much our voices would carry. So far Porter didn’t appear to have heard us.

  “What look?” I asked quietly, my face the picture of innocence.

  “Oh, don’t give me that shit,” said Dalton, smacking my shoulder playfully. “He was looking at you like you hung the moon. What gives?”

  “He didn’t…he just…ugh, Dalton, can’t you just let it go?” I pleaded.

  “Nope,” said Dalton with an air of finality. “Sorry, but as your best friend it’s my job to bug the shit out of you when a Greek god looks at you like that.”

  “I’m revoking your status as best friend,” I said, sighing.

  “Good luck, dude,” said Dalton. “I’m loyal as shit, you’re not getting rid of me anytime soon.”

  “Can you just let this drop? Please?” I asked, my eyes cast downward.

  Dalton sobered instantly. “Is everything okay?”

  “Yeah,” I said, “I just…I don’t want to talk about this, okay? It’s a lot and…and…”

  How could I explain the symphony of emotions swelling in my chest? Especially to Dalton, because let’s face it: if I told her even the tiniest bit about my affection for Porter, she would figure the rest out. She knew me that fucking well. And I wasn’t ready to share all of it yet. Not with Porter (although I was getting close to wanting to spill all my thoughts to him), and certainly not with anyone else.

  “Fine,” said Dalton. “But I want you to recognize and appreciate that I’m giving you space on this one.”

  I looked out the window at the landscape rolling by. The interstate was more-or-less straight, but the New England countryside was full of trees and hills and an endless string of powerlines. I had spent many a summer vacation riding in the back of my parents’ minivan, staring at this terrain as Dalton bugged me about one thing or another. It was oddly comforting, being there with her as we embarked on our greatest adventure.

 

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