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by Xiola Author IconMail Icon
Rated: 18+ · Book · Romance/Love · #901378
A musician and a documentary filmmaker. You do the math.
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#326747 added February 14, 2005 at 10:57pm
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Chapter 4
Amelia entered the Key Arena and found Dom giving out the instructions for the sound check shoot. She smiled and let out a sigh of relief at the competancy of her crew assistant. George was right when he helped her to select her crew members, Dom was a dream assistant.

She headed over to the small group gathered around Dom just as he noticed her approaching. He gave one last order that Amelia didn't quite catch before the crew dispersed; some heading up into the stands while others went towards the stage. Amelia looked around the vast arena and was pleased with the equale distribution of video and still camers. It was wierd stadning in the middle of a huge concert hall that seemed to be devoid of any people. Within a few hours this place would be full of 50,000 screaming fans and that feeling of solitude would quickly pass.

"Alright, I've already issued the assignments for this afternoon and I've drawn up a potential list for tonight's show. Are these good or do you want to rework these?" He handed Ameila a clipboard with a pad of legal paper attached to it.

"Hmmm," she scratched her chin as she noticed the mousey Angie was going to be shooting from the floor. "Why would Angie beon the floor? She seems awfully meek to be that close to a mosh pit."

Dome shrugged, "I haven't a clue; she insisted she'd be perfect for the job."

"Alright then, we'll see how she handles it. You did a great job with these assignments and a personal thank you for putting me with the drummer today."

"I figured after your scene with Mr. Rasnick you could use a break. We don't have money in the budget to buy a new camera after you crack one over that big head of his."

"Thanks," Amelia giggled, "I could really use a laugh."

"No problem," Dome grinned wryly, "you'll get to deal with him on Saturday."

"Four days of peace," she rolled her eyes, "thanks!"

"Hey, Dom! I can't get this lens to focus!" One of the interns shouted from up in the rafters.

"Time to get to work," he signed and Amelia smiled as Dom ran off.

She headed towards the stage with her digital camera and bag, the click of her boot heels echoing throughout the empty dome. Dave was bent over the drumset, helping the roadie set it up to his specifications. Locating the staircase that led up to the stage, Amelia grasped the railing and began to climb.

"You might want to watch that third step."

"What?" Amelia spun around and almost smacked her nose into Trevor's chin.

"The third step seems a little shaky," he replied, noticing the light floral scent of her perfume.

"Oh, thanks. Look, you don't have to go out of your way to be nice to me. I was never going to try to get your contract pulled."

"So you were threatening me then, huh?" Trevor teased, a smile looming at the coreners of his mouth.

"Not threatening, bluffing." Amelia gave him a smug look, obviously pleased at her ploy.

Trevor raised his eyebrows and allowed a small smile to slip out, "Nice work, I see that you're proud of yourself."

"Admit it, I had you going there for a minute."

"No you didn't,"

"Yes I did, that's why you're trying to not smile right now."

"That's not it. It's just not cool if I do."

"So you never smile?"

"Not usually, no,"

"I'm sure you have a nice smile, why hide it?" A puzzled look forming on her face.

"Its an image thing; dark and surly are what sells," he shrugged, lowering his eyes to the floor.

Amelia took in the sight of the grown man who suddenly appeared as depressed as a sulled teenager and her heart went out to him. She reached down and patted Trevor's hand comfortingly. "I hope the film will give you plenty to smile about."

"I'm sure it will," he murmured, fixing his gaze upon hers. "I'm really sorry about what happened earlier. It was low of me to threaten your contract."

"Thanks, I'm sorry I threatened to have your contract pulled, that would have caused major problems for a lot of people if I had actually tried." She smiled winsomely, embarassed that she had let her temper get the best of her. Her father always told her not to let your emotions get involved with business, the end result would never be what you wanted.

"I thought it was a bluff," he joked lightly and Amelia roared with laughter. Trevor smiled again, not understanding why he felt the need to do so.

"Now that was a good one," she chuckled, holding her sides. Amelia brushed a tear from her eye and began laughing all over again, letting out a very unladylike snort.

"I heard that!" Dom hollared from the rafters, causing Amelia to blush.

"Oh, lord. I am never going to live this down," she groaned, mirth shinging in her eyes.

A serious look clouded his features, "It's okay. No one will even remember that after tonight. All the work that goes into this show will run your people through the ringer."

"Shit! I need to get to work!" Amelia cried, turning to scramble up the steps.

"Are you coming with me?"

"Not today; I'm stalking Dave tonight and for the three days we're in Portland."

"I thought that since I hired you that you would be working mostly with me."

"Not quite, since everybody wants to be the one to follow you around we've decided to rotate."

"What?" Trevor asked, a confused look replacing the serious one.

Amelia let out an exasperated sigh, "Because you're so mysterious, you never do interviews and the only people that truly know yolu are your bandmates. All the guys on the crew want to be the one to crack the code, so to speak."

Trevor ran a hand uneasily through his hair, "I didn't realize that I can across that badly."

"It's not a bad thing; you leave your fans wanting more which is what any good artist does." Amelia replied as she pulled her cell phone from her back pocket and looked at the number. Noticing that it was her husband, she replaced the phone without answering it.

"Someone you don't want to deal with?" He nodded at her phone as he hitched his thumbs in his back pocket.

"What? Oh, yeah," Amelia huffed mildly, scribbling some random notes on her clipboard. "My husband, he was such an ass last night and again this morning that I'm not in the mood to snap at him. I have work to do and he knows how much I hate to be interrupted by some petty phone call."

"Same here, I hate to be bothered when I'm writing. It takes all of my energy and concentration that when someone or something breaks it, I can never get it back."

"At least you don't have a husband who hates your job hounding you."

"No, and I'm glad I don't have a husband," Amelia fell into a fit of hysterics and Trevor felt relieved when he saw that her sour mood seemed to have dissipated at his corny joke. "So, how long have you been married? Couldn't be that long, you look so young."

"Five years," she sighed, "I got married right out of college."

Trevor shook his head in amazement. He could never have been married to someone that long. The longest commitment he had ever made was to his bandmates and that was going on 18 years.






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