Daisy and the Front Man by Purdy Rebekah L

Author:Purdy, Rebekah L. [Purdy, Rebekah L.]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: fan fiction, teen, Jennifer Echols, Backstage Pass, YA, Rebekah L. Purdy, J. Lynn, crush, One Direction, entangled, Daisy and the Front Man, boy band, Stephanie Perkins, category romance
Publisher: Entangled Publishing, LLC
Published: 2015-06-16T03:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

Trevin rolled out of his bunk the next morning, trying not to wake the others. He tugged on a T-shirt then went to the fridge to grab a bottle of chocolate milk. Last night had definitely been bizarre. More than a thousand pairs of underwear had been tossed on the stage at him. The crew had counted every pair, per Ryder prodding them to. When they were done, Trevin insisted they get thrown away. He’d never been so embarrassed in his life—and LJ wasn’t exactly happy about this, joke or not. He thought it’d made Trevin look like a womanizer…

Of course, Ryder had given Trevin a hard time about it. Trevin wondered if maybe he had something to do with it. Maybe this was Ryder’s way to try and make him look like a playboy so Daisy wouldn’t like him? But who knew. After another swig of milk, a loud pounding sounded on the tour bus door. Only one person was that annoying this early in the morning. Shit, they’d only gotten like four hours of sleep.

“Tell Lester to go the fuck away,” Ryder said, jerking the curtain on his bunk shut.

“I’ll deal with him, you guys just stay in bed.” Trevin set his drink on the table then went to unlock the door.

“About time you got up. You guys have an interview with the local morning show. Tell the others to get dressed.” LJ went down the narrow hallway to their bunks. “Up, now. You can sleep after your show tonight.”

“I thought you were going to tell him to go away.” Ryder poked his head out of his bunk. “Can’t we have another hour of sleep?”

Miles stumbled out of bed, wearing only a pair of boxers. “It’s too bloody early for interviews. I might slip up and tell the paparazzi something we don’t want them to know. Like how Will sprouts devil horns every full moon.”

Will hit Miles in the side of his head with his pillow. “Or how Miles is only faking a British accent and he’s really from Alabama.”

“Boys, it’s too early for this,” LJ said. “Now get up. Trevin, come on out here with me a second. I want to go over a few things with you.”

Trevin groaned. “Just let me put on some shoes.”

He slid his feet into a pair of flip-flops then stepped out into the chilly morning air. Fog seemed to float across the stadium parking lot, like puffs of cotton candy.

LJ paced back and forth, holding a mug of coffee. “Ryder and Miles seem to be fighting again lately. I thought you were going to nip that in the bud.”

He sighed. “Look, they don’t fight all the time. Most days they get along—but when we get cooped up for too long, we can get irritable. Trust me, their little spats aren’t going to break up the band. You have nothing to worry about.”

“I hope you’re right. There are a lot more years left in this band; I want to make sure you boys get the most out of them.

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