Page 138 of Shy Girls Can't Date Rockstars
“If you’ve heard about her from Chase,” Miranda replies, “I’m sure the report wasn’t glowing.”
If my face wasn’t red before…
“No one gets a glowing report from my son.” Mr. Kensington gestures at the stage. “Look at Hamilton up there, owning the stage. But that’s not the part I’ll hear about from my son.”
“But doesn’t your son need Ryder?” I hear myself say and instantly regret it. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…”
Mr. Kensington lets out a hearty laugh and then extends a hand to me. “Don’t mention it. I’m well aware Ryder Hamilton is carrying the band. I’m just sorry the boy can’t make it on his own. I’d much prefer Chase to be on this side of the stage, making important decisions alongside me.”
Miranda cuts in. “Perhaps the stage experience will make Chase a better executive in the future?”
Mr. Kensington nods. “We’d better hope so.”
“It was nice to meet you,” I tell Mr. Kensington, and then lift my camera. “But I’d better get back to shooting.”
As I walk away, I hear snippets of Miranda talking about my camera skills. She’s talking me up? Me?
She needs to stop, and send all that positive spin toward Ryder.
It’s true that Mr. Kensington thinks Ryder can’t make it on his own. But Ryder is so talented. I wish there were some way to rid his nerves for good. Without those solo-playing jitters, he’d be unstoppable and wouldn’t need those horrible boys backing him up.
The band is three songs in, and I’m completely in the zone. The crowd has faded into background noise. The executives, the other Ashworth students, and even Miranda, all disappear when I look through the viewfinder.
There’s only the music. The band. Ryder.
I move through the crowd, finding pockets of space and angles that tell a story. Chase and Brooks are good, but the camera magnetically pulls back to Ryder. The shots are my choice, so why not focus on him? I want to showcase his talent. I want to tell the story that he should be a solo artist.
I’m crouched near the front, getting a low-angle shot, when someone bumps into me hard from behind. I stumble forward,camera swinging on its strap, and barely catch myself before going down.
“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry!”
A hand steadies my arm, and I look up to find Madison Pierce with a flushed face of concern.
“Are you okay?” Madison asks. “I didn’t see you there in the dark.”
“I’m fine.” I pull my arm free, checking my camera for damage.
“Your photos are going to be amazing!” Madison says brightly, seemingly unaware of my discomfort. “The lighting in here is insane. I’ve been trying to get good content all night, but my phone camera just isn’t cutting it.”
She shows me her feed, scrolling through videos of the concert. The view count is already in the thousands.
“I’m really trying to grow my brand, you know?” Madison continues. “Build my following to help with future collaborations. Every little bit helps with the algorithm.”
I make a noncommittal noise, trying to focus on my camera settings.
“Wait, what are you taking photos for?” Her eyes widen at the preview images on my screen. “This looks serious.”
I hesitate, then figure there’s no point in hiding it. “It’s PR for the band. They can use it for promotional material, or whatever.”
Madison’s jaw drops. “Wait, you’re working with them? Like, officially?”
“Just for tonight.” I flash her my lanyard. “The real photographer has the flu.”
She looks between me and the stage, where Ryder is mid-song and completely lost in the music.
“Wow.” Madison almost says it to herself. “So when you and Ryder weren’t at school yesterday, you were lining up this gig?”
“What? No, I just…”
