But my desire to see her far outweighs my anger. As the day went on, my nerves ratcheted up notch by notch, until I was pretty much a seething mess of anxiousness—not the best state of mind for a show. And then I was hit with this stupid interview.
I concentrate on taking deep breaths through my nose when the questions aren’t directed at me. I could answer most of these in my sleep. I would think the reporters could get a little more creative than the constant rumination about our influences, or how we got our names. Seriously, how is it not obvious that we were named after musicians? My brother’s name is Lennon, for God’s sake.
Sure enough: “Reed, you and your brothers have some interesting names. Could you tell me a little bit how you got them?”
I want to scream, but Reed only nods seriously, as if this is the first time someone ever asked. “Well, Jeffery, my dad always knew he wanted his kids to respect the musical greats he grew up loving. So we were named after those he considers to be some of the most influential musicians of all time—Johnny Cash, Lou Reed, John Lennon, and Roger Daltrey. I guess you could say music was part of our fate since the day we were born.”
Everyone chuckles good-naturedly, and I struggle not to roll my eyes. Reed is really good at this whole public eye thing. I wish he could just handle all the interviews. Cash shoots me a pissed-off look, and I know I’m pushing it. The reporter can probably read my antagonism from a mile away. I shake my head, trying to get it together, before the interviewer turns to me for the next question. Maybe if I can get through this with a smile on my face, he’ll leave us alone, and I’ll have time to see Daisy.
At seven thirty, Dad finally comes over to cut off the interview. The opener is going on soon, and the noise from the crowd outside is starting to pick up. I turn toward the back hall, intending to try and catch Daisy before Levi takes her to the seats, but I’m stopped by my father’s hand on my arm.
“You need to get it together,” he says in a low voice. He doesn’t sound mad, just serious. “There’s a lot riding on the press for this tour.”
“You think I don’t know that?” I yank my arm away and continue to the door.
“I mean it, Daltrey,” he calls after me. I resist the urge to flip him off.
My heart sinks when I reach the dressing room. She’s not there. Levi must have already taken them to their seats. I curse the interviewer, my father, and every one of my brothers as I sink into one of the couches. At least none of them are in here, and I have a little privacy.
“Sorry, Levi,” a familiar voice says from outside the door. She sounds out of breath. “I think I left it right by the…”
She trails off as she enters the room and catches sight of me. For a long moment, we just stare at each other in silence.
Finally, I clear my throat and stand. “Daisy.”
Her hand comes up to her mouth. She looks off balance, almost shocked. I shove my trembling hands into my pockets and resist the urge to go to her, grab her arms, touch her.
Before either of us can say anything else, Levi appears behind her in the doorway. “Did you find it?” He catches sight of me across the room and seems to freeze, his expression almost annoyed, before his normal smile reappears. “Hey, man. Daisy left her purse. I take it you guys are finished?”
I nod, my eyes back on Daisy. I want Levi to go; I want the crowd beyond the green room to disappear. I want to be alone somewhere with the girl in front of me, away from all the people who are constantly trying to get at me. I don’t know what I would do if we were alone, though the idea of hugging her sounds pretty good. All I know is that I wish it was just me and Daisy, even if only for a few minutes. I’ve missed her even more than I ever realized.
Levi’s eyes dart back and forth between the two of us. “Uh… sorry, guys, but we really should go if we want to get you back to your seat. The opener is about to start, and I have a bunch of work to do.” He looks at me uncertainly. “Unless you want someone else to take her out?”
I hear loud voices in the hallway—my brothers. The sound shakes me from my daze. “No, you’re right. I’ll walk with you.”
Levi leads us out into the chaotic hallway, darting around roadies and God knows who else to clear a path. I fall into step next to Daisy, who seems to be concentrating very hard on her feet. She’s wearing ankle boots with heels, a far cry from her usual Converse. In fact, her entire outfit looks very un-Daisy-like. She’s in some tank-top-and-vest combo that actually looks kind of rock and roll. And shorts—really, really short shorts. I realize I’m staring at her legs, and I swallow and look up at her face.