Never Gonna Stop

Chapter Six

Madison ran his thumbs behind his suspenders, pulling them forward then letting go with a snap. “I gotta say, I’m having some mean deja vu right now.”

“But if you have to live something again, this isn’t a bad choice,” said Mikey, looking in the dressing room mirror. “That was the best shoot we’ve had yet. My grandma was really impressed.” 

“Yeah, my dad and Sarah too.” Jason let go of his black tie, which despite his best efforts, was way too short: it was practically a cartoon tie. “I do miss having wardrobe here.”

Madison came over to help. “And Mikey could use a little make-up, that’s for sure.”

Mikey laughed. “But then I’d have to hope they don’t use it all up on you first.”

With the laughter and the brotherly sparring, they all felt a bit less nervous for the big party. Layla had had the genius idea to celebrate their awesome fans and the release of the “Please Don’t Go, Girl” video by renting out La Luna, where they’d shot the video, and inviting 200 fans to a faux-homecoming dance. School dances were the kind of thing the guys missed by having a tutor instead of being in regular school, and the chance to have a real dance, without the cameras and extras and stops and starts, was too good to resist.

They hadn’t joined the party yet — they figured they’d keep it close to the video and make the same awesome entrance. Richy had even worked with them on some extra choreo to link their entrance with the killer dance sequence at the end.

Mikey walked out into the hall to peek through the curtain at the dance floor. A few seconds later he was back with a report: “There are so many people out there. It looks like more than 200.”

“Well our fans are the best. What do you expect?”

Richy poked his head into the dressing room. “You guys ready to make this a night to remember?”

“Let’s go to homecoming,” said Mikey with a grin.

They waited behind the curtain for their music to start. The buzz and laughter from the crowd beyond quieted.

“Everybody set?” asked Richy. The guys nodded.

 Richy made eye contact with the sound guy and cued him with a point. “And . . . 5-6-7-8.”

The music kicked in and they were through the curtains. The fans went nuts, screaming and cheering, but the band danced through it all, focusing on the beat of the music, on making each move sharp. They slid, spun, swayed, working their way to the open area in front of the stage. The moves flowed freely, each one precise and electric in a way they never could be in rehearsal. They’d worked out a finish with Mikey’s flip from the dance battle, and as they worked through the routine, Mikey tried not to think about it: he had only one take to nail it and he didn’t want to let the band or these Tobeoners down. Then Madison was beside him and it was time, jump, tuck and . . . He was on his feet again. The music faded, only to be replaced with the loudest screams they’d heard at any performance.

Madison gave Mikey a double high five, “No sweat, right, Mikey?”

Mikey smiled. “Piece of cake.”

Layla appeared out of the crowd. “You guys get better every day, I swear."

“Aww, Layla, you’re the sweetest,” said Jason. “Want a sweaty group hug?”

The boys didn’t wait for a yes, just closed in on her, wrapping their arms around their laughing manager.

“Why don’t you guys go get some drinks from the smoothie bar?” asked Layla. “Then we’ll have you guys out on the dance floor with the fans and taking some turns in the photo booth.”