VIP Access (The Road To Rocktoberfest #7) - Morticia Knight Page 0,1

to play along to all his favorite songs. Of course, most of the tunes he’d learned had been Glitter Kink’s.

“The best band that ever played,” he whispered to himself.

But Zen was a force unto himself. Even taller in person than Braylin had imagined, long lean lines accentuated his defined torso, his smooth tawny skin so touchable, Braylin wasn’t sure how he’d resist. Then there were Zen’s intense, deep brown eyes that seemed to bore into a person’s soul. The photos Braylin had studied of Zen over the years didn’t do him justice at all.

The driving, bluesy rock beats with a seventies classic edge were Glitter Kink’s trademark sound. Other than one album about ten years after they hit it big that hadn’t sold well, they’d stayed on top of their game by evolving their style as musical trends came and went.

One minor slump had been when their lead guitarist, Sal, had been in rehab. Stories had abounded in social media and the rock ‘zines, with rock music experts postulating whether he’d ever come back to the band—or if the band would even survive. But after recovering from a hardcore booze addiction, Sal returned, and Glitter Kink had bounced back with ease.

Now, everything seemed cool—especially since they had a new record out and a worldwide tour that was about to kick off.

The chaos of everyone arriving at once—Zen and the band members excitedly chatting with Gordy and the rest of the crew—was like witnessing some behind-the-scenes documentary. As Braylin drank in the moment, he noted that Sal wasn’t in the mix. He figured the guitarist would probably show up any minute.

Zen’s gaze traveled the room until it landed on Braylin. Braylin gulped. He’d always been a mellow, quiet guy—not given to wild outbursts or effusive behavior—so he probably wouldn’t do anything too embarrassing. The worst thing that might happen was a lot of stammering or perhaps the complete inability to speak.

Zen towered over most of the other people in the room, so he had to lean down to say something in Gordy’s ear, his eyes never leaving Braylin as he did. Braylin did his best not to stare, while also trying not to appear rude by pointedly looking away. However, all he seemed to be accomplishing were a lot of jerky head movements.

Zen gave Gordy a quick nod then straightened. He regarded Braylin with a half-smile then sauntered in his direction. The non-fanboy greeting Braylin had been practicing all week disappeared from his brain. Instead, he was left with chewing the inside of his mouth while struggling to breathe.

When Zen reached him, he held out his hand, his gorgeous mouth tugging into a wide smile. The expression wasn’t a pasted on, perfunctory greeting, but struck Braylin as being genuine.

“Welcome. Gordy tells me you’re our new guitar tech. Braylin, right?”

Braylin tried not to choke on his own spit and allowed his small hand to be wrapped in Zen’s larger, stronger one. “Yes, sir. Nice to meet you.” He winced as soon as the words left his mouth. Idiot. He sounded like he was greeting a judge or an army sergeant.

Zen sputtered out a laugh then pressed his lips together. He gave Braylin’s hand a firm shake, as if matching the motion to the formality of Braylin’s greeting.

“Braylin. Great name, fits you.” He gave Braylin a slight bow. “It’s very nice to meet you too. Welcome to the Glitter Kink circus.” Zen swept his hands through the air like a ringmaster. “We’ll try to corrupt you as little as we can.” He winked. “But no guarantees.”

Braylin opened and closed his mouth like a goldfish, but by the time he’d come up with a less embarrassing comment than his previous one, Zen was already walking away.

That hadn’t gone how he’d planned.

Everyone continued to chat for a while, laughing, drinking coffee, settling in and undoubtedly getting caught up since the last time they’d all been together. Braylin raked his fingers through his hair and sighed. He couldn’t keep behaving as if he didn’t belong. If he didn’t jump in with both feet now and show he deserved a seat at the table, eventually they might decide he didn’t.

To that end, Braylin left the safety of the large amp and made his way to the refreshment table one of the crew members had set up earlier. He was still working out who was who. Other than the manager, his fellow techs and soundmen, the rest of the guys were still an unknown to him. The lighting