because the people on my website sometimes did. I encouraged people not to pry into Adam’s personal life or pester him on his off hours although I understood how hard it would be to refrain from asking for a picture and an autograph if you saw him sitting in a coffee shop. I honestly wasn’t sure if I’d have the will power to practice what I preached, but I hoped I could honor his privacy just like I would want if I were in his position.
It was all academic. Sitting in my apartment in Indiana, I’d never had to make that decision.
Jo was about to change that.
She took a step away, but turned back, nose scrunched adorably. “Hey, Layla, maybe you could come over for dinner tonight.”
She was speaking English, but nothing she said was computing. “You want me to come to your house.”
“I know how hard it is to be alone in a new place. And honestly, I could really use the company.”
My eyes continued to blink, but my mouth couldn’t formulate an appropriate response. My brain was busy screaming, “Worlds collide!”
Part of me—the one that spent too much time creeping on these people—urged me to jump at Jo’s invitation and see what her life was really like.
Another part of me—the fan forum admin—balked at even considering this invasion of her privacy.
A third deeper, darker part of me—the one that hid online behind a fake persona—wanted to retreat to my empty hotel room and catch up on a day’s worth of fan forum chatter that was already piling up. I’d been cramping all day, thanks to a particularly painful period that was mercifully coming to an end, and the idea of burrowing under covers alone in my jammies with a hot cup of cocoa appealed to me a lot.
Online, people thought I was cool and connected. Online, I could delete my social gaffes.
But when would I ever have a chance like this again?
So I stood there debating with myself, probably with my jaw agape, drool threatening to spool over my dumbstruck lower lip until Jo nudged me. “Well? I promise we’re not ax murderers. Micah’s not supposed to be home until tomorrow, so it would be just the two of us. You’d like Micah, I’m sure. You’re not allergic to cats, are you?”
“No.” I still wasn’t sure if that was an answer to her first or last question.
“Then it’s settled.” She grabbed a pen and scrawled down a number on a Post-it. “Here’s my cell. Give me a call when you’re ready to leave work. I have something to do downtown, but I can swing back up and fetch you. Okay?”
As I stuck the Post-it to the back of my phone, frequent scene of my crimes, I vowed I wouldn’t break her trust or treat her like an exhibit at the zoo.
Talking Disaster Forum
Topic: Other Bands - Whiplash - Tours - Spring Fling - DC - Page 6
Hipster101 wrote:
I’ll have more pictures to post later. And Jayhawk was there. I think he shot some video.
Jayhawk wrote:
Yeah I shot the whole show. Trippy to see Theater of the Absurd opening last night.
Sailor8 wrote:
Ooh, @Hipster - any pictures of Micah or Noah? *Fingers crossed*
Hipster101 wrote:
*eye roll* I took pictures of the band, yes. They aren’t Glamour Shots.
Jayhawk wrote:
Were any of you around back when Walking Disaster opened for Whiplash? And now Theater of the Absurd is . . . I predict big things.
Insidious wrote:
@Jayhawk - Yeah, but one of these things is not like the other. Of those three bands, one’s not touring . . .
Pumpkin39 wrote:
For good reason, Sid.
DeadFan wrote:
Adam’s staying home with the baby after all!
Sailor8 wrote:
Hey @Pumpkin39, do you have any secret insider knowledge about the next tour?
Pumpkin39 wrote:
As if. I wish I did. I’ll know as soon as you know.
Jayhawk wrote:
Can we get back to the Whiplash tour? Did you hear about some tension between the bands? There were some rumors that something went down after the show involving Noah possibly.
Chapter Two
Just as I was beginning to think I’d imagined the manager who’d interviewed me over Skype, Byron rolled in and ushered me into a conference room where he introduced me to the team: a couple of guys who identified themselves as Ajit and Dave. I quickly discovered I didn’t corner the market on social awkwardness. Dave barely made eye contact with me, and Ajit snort-laughed when I dorkily blurted something about having a case of the Mondays.