Page 3 of Lance

It’s pretty clear that we’re being dismissed at this point so we all stand and say our goodbyes. “Louis, I’d like a word,” Johnson says as the band makes our way to the door. “And before the rest of you go…” We stop to look back at him. “Have fun tomorrow. Your first late night talk show, guys.” He’s smiling again and somehow it doesn’t look quite so smarmy as it did when he first entered the room. “That’s something you’ll remember for the rest of yourlives.”

We wait in the lobby of his office for Louis to finish. “You think he’s pissed?” Layla asks, fidgeting with her nose ring. “We weren’t too pushy, werewe?”

“Our album is ancient,” James says. “We need to get back into thestudio.”

My phone buzzes again and I curse this time, pulling it out to look at the screen with agroan.

“Who keeps calling you?” Layla asks, trying to peek around my arm to see thescreen.

“It’s those girls from the Chaos Club, isn’t it?” Dylan asks, his expression more than a little miffed. “I knew they were going to call you and conveniently forget mynumber.”

“Hang in there, buddy,” I tell him. “I’m sure there’s a girl out theresomewherewho wouldn’t mind spending time withyou.”

Haylee smacks my arm. “Don’t bemean.”

“It’s not my faultPeoplemagazine called me the hottest new rock star inLA—”

They all groan, just like they’ve done every other time I’ve mentioned the magazine article. Which, to be fair, has been something like twenty times a day ever since it was published lastweek.

“Are you ever going to shut up about that?” Jamesasks.

I cock my head, pretending to think about it. “No, actually. I don’t think Iwill.”

“You’re insufferable. You know that, right?” Hayleeasks.

I waggle my eyebrows at her. “That’s not what the girls from the Chaos Club seemed tothink.”

The craziest thing is that it’s true. Ever since the band broke out, it seems like I can’t go out in public without attracting the attention of several girls. It’s been even worse—well, better, who am I kidding—sincePeoplechose to write an article on me. It was short, just a few paragraphs on my exciting new life, but it was accompanied by a few pictures of me out and about in LA and back in Europe from the Ransom tour. If I thought I was getting attention before, it was nothing compared to what was happeningnow.

And I know I’m supposed to say that it’s not all it’s cracked up to be. That I want to focus on the music and that all the fame stuff doesn’t matter. It’s what James would say, that the art was hisfocus.

But that’s bullshit. Ofcoursethe fame stuff matters. People recognizing me in public, shouting my name? My face in magazines, chicks fighting each other to give me their numbers. Who cares what I’m supposed to say? This isawesome.

As if in response to my thoughts, I catch the eye of a blonde woman standing at the secretary’s desk across the room. She’s dressed in a knee-length tight skirt that makes me think ofMad Men, her white blouse stretched across an amazing rack. She leans down to hand Johnson’s secretary a folder but her eyes never leave mine. I grin at her, barely noticing when Haylee makes a gagging noise next to me. Before I can decide if I want to go over and talk to her, Louisreappears.

“That went fairly well,” he says, shutting the door to Jeremy Johnson’s office behind him. “The label ispleased.”

“Does that mean we get the rest of the day off?” Dylan askshopefully.

“Keep dreaming,” Louis mutters, pulling out his phone to consult our schedule. “We have rehearsal for the showtomorrow.”

Well, it’s kind of hard to be upset about that. Playing our first nationally broadcast late night talk show is basically the most exciting thing that has ever happened to any ofus.

“Besides,” he goes on, “you can all relax at theparty.”

“What party?” Layla asks, her eyes narrowing insuspicion.

It’s Louis’s turn to look a little smug. “Didn’t I tell you? The label is throwing a viewing party for the show tomorrownight.”

Layla is still watching him, distrust clear on her face. “When you sayparty—”

“It’s at Sway,” he says, seeming to enjoy her expression of surprise. Even I’ve heard of Sway—that’s how famous the club is. “They’ve invited a bunch of industry people, a few other acts from the label, a couple actors. Apparently Wolfgang Puck iscatering.”

Layla looks like she’s died and gone to heaven. “Why didn’t youtellus?”

“And give us something to look forward to and be happy about?” Dylan asks. “Have you methim?”

“It’s true,” Haylee says, grinning at the still dumbfounded expression on Layla’s face. “Lennon and his brothers arecoming.”