The Outcasts Book 4

Louisa

It is finally opening night of Steve and Christian’s new live music venue, the Firebird, named for my fiery older sister who has both men wrapped firmly around her little finger. Seriously, they would do anything she asks. It is highly impressive.

As is the renovated old vaudeville building they had worked on tirelessly for the last year or so.

Steve hasn’t stopped grinning since I showed up this evening—I’m sure he must have gotten cramps in his cheeks by now.

His tall green mohawk is quivering almost as much as he is, and he’s dressed in ripped jeans held up with red suspenders paired with a white T-shirt with a printed bowtie on the front, his tattoos proudly on display.

Christian, on the other hand, has gone all out, looking pretty damn delectable in a three-piece suit and a crisp white button-down shirt, the charcoal material contrasting with the bright white, really bringing out the dark gray of his eyes.

I strap on my camera, double-checking I have extra lenses and batteries as I walk over to where Anna is fussing over her men. “Hey, guys, the place looks amazing!”

“Why, thank you, lil sis.” Steve flashes a grin full of excitement. “You all ready to document the biggest night in fucking history?!”

Anna snorts from her perch on Christian’s lap. “Calm down, you dumb punk, before you give yourself an aneurysm.”

Christian buries his face in her flame-red hair to hide his laughter, but Steve just rolls his eyes good-naturedly.

The venue is packed with people, a buzz of anticipation filling the air.

I wander through the crowd, taking candid shots of patrons enjoying themselves and some classy pictures capturing the architecture and decor of the venue with an idea of Steve being able to use them on the website.

The more artists he can attract to play here the more money he’ll ultimately be bringing in for the other businesses in town too.

The lights drop, and I position myself to the left of the stage just as the drummer starts hitting his snare drum and high hat—bum TAT bum TAT—and the singer grabs the mic stand and starts talking over the intro to the song.

“Who here likes Nine Inch Nails?” He leans forward, hand cupped behind his ear as the hyped-up crowd in front of him screams. “Well, unfortunately they couldn’t be here tonight, but we are Eight Inch Screws…!”

I chuckle as I watch the singer grin manically, swinging the microphone loosely by his waist. He catches my eye and winks at me as he starts a seductive rendition of “Closer.”

Rebecca, the music reporter from the local newspaper, appears next to me. “He’s good, isn’t he?”

I smirk as I watch her eyes rove over his toned torso.

“Should I tell Max he’s got competition?” I nudge her with my elbow.

“God no! This kid has nothing on my Max.” She winks, and I can’t help but laugh.

I take a moment to scroll through the photos I’d taken so far while the bands swap over, and Becca looks over my shoulder at them.

“Wow! Those are really good. Do you think I could use a couple for my article? I can get Mr. Caradine to pay you for them, plus get your name down in print as the photographer.”

“For real?! That would be awesome! Thanks, Becca.” I give her a quick hug, and she chuckles.

***

I stumble into my photography lecture bleary-eyed after the late night at the Firebird. Professor Consequat frowns at me over the top of his glasses, and Kolton gives me a “busted” look from his perch behind the professor.

As I walk past him, I pretend to scratch my nose with my middle finger, and Kolton snickers behind his hand.

After sitting through a lecture which had me stifling my yawns as the professor droned on about his exhibition of portraits, my mind is already on the editing I am planning on doing to the photos I’d taken last night.

Some of the brightly colored lights dancing through the clouds of dry ice were begging for a little enhancing.

“Okay, class.” Professor Consequat pushes himself off the desk he’d been leaning against as he finishes his self-appreciation hour. “I expect to see examples of all the different techniques we have explored so far in your next submissions. Maybe take the time to look at my work in a little more depth, and you may find yourselves some inspiration.”

The rest of the class claps, and I resist the urge to roll my eyes as his find mine.

Kolton stands up and gets his attention, and I let out a sigh of relief.

I’m pretty sure the professor had picked up on how bored I’d been during his lecture, and I really don’t want to have to endure yet another few minutes trying to avoid his halitosis.

I guess my face shows my emotions much more than I know, not like Anna, who seemed to be the master of schooling herself into a blank canvas. Look up resting bitch face in the dictionary and you’ll find a photo of my sister.

I slide the memory card out of my camera and plug it into the computer, bringing up hundreds of photos—yeah, okay, so I may have gotten a little trigger-happy last night.

I soon settle into the rhythm of deleting the shitty photos and choosing the ones to work on my assignment and the ones I think Rebecca might be able to use.

I am enveloped in a gentle caress of a sexy masculine scent, slightly spicy and slightly woody.

“Nice work, Louisa.” Kolton leans over to get a closer look at my screen. “I love all this candid crowd work.” He rubs his thumb over his bottom lip as he flicks through more photos, making interested humming noises.

“Was there anything I could help you with, Kolton? Or was your only intent to get in my way while I’m working?” I cock my head at him, poking my tongue against my cheek and narrowing my eyes at him playfully.

He chuckles, sitting back in his chair and holding his hands up in surrender. “Sorry, sorry. I just wanted to appreciate your talent up close.”

I watch as he gets up and walks over to another student, his sweatshirt pulling tight against his swollen biceps as he points out something on their computer screen. Was he flirting with me? I can’t get a read on him at all.

As I am walking down the steps of block A, hoisting my equipment bag over my shoulder, I hear Kolton call my name. “Hey, can I ask you something?” He jogs to catch up with me.

“Sure. What’s up?”