“Let’s go backstage!” Chloe screams into my ear. She’s yelling directly into it, and I can still barely hear her over the roar of the crowd.

My favorite band, Wannabe Gods, just finished playing my favorite song and my body is still tingling. Joey looked so beautiful as he sung into the mic like he was making love to it.

I’m holding onto Chloe’s arm with a tight grip, not wanting to let her go. We’re surrounded by darkness and I don’t want to lose her. I’m old enough to be on my own at eighteen-years-old, but it’s my first concert and I’m not really sure where to go after the show.

“Come,” she says, tugging at my arm as her candy scented perfume hits my nose. “I want to suck Andrew Ryan’s dick.”

Butterflies flutter into my stomach as she tugs me again. I’m nervous to go backstage, and don’t really want to go. I’m not a hanging out backstage with the band kind of girl. I’m a staying at home with a good book kind of girl.

Chloe is twenty-two and a little wild. We both work at the same coffee shop, and our boss gave us tickets to come to the show tonight when his mom got sick and he couldn’t go.

I love Wannabe Gods and I don’t get out of the house much, so I jumped at the chance to go to a real live concert, even though I had to go with the girl who likes to make-out with random hot guys in the bathroom at work while I have to cover her section.

Her blonde hair tickles my face as I lean into her ear. “Let’s just stay here,” I say, swallowing hard as I hope she agrees, but I know that she won’t.

“You’re not being a prude tonight,” she says with her lips smacking in my ear. “We’re going backstage.”

My stomach sinks as she pulls me through the crowd, away from our spot. I glance back in the direction we came with my mind racing to come up with an excuse to get out of here that she will buy. But I’m too nervous to come up with anything.

“Sorry,” I say to the people that Chloe is pushing out of the way. “Excuse us. Sorry.”

I’m enjoying the show, and I’d like to stay here for the rest of it. What if they’re doing drugs backstage or the guys expect us to act like groupies? I’ve never had sex before, and I’m not about to have it in the backstage of a concert, even if it is with a celebrity as hot as Joey Simone.

Some spotlights light up over the stage just as we arrive at the entrance to the back. I glance back over my shoulder and see a mountain of a man in the spot where we were standing, frantically looking around like he just lost the most precious, irreplaceable thing in the world.

My heart goes out to him as he whips his head back and forth, looking around with wide panicked eyes. He’s not beautiful in a traditional kind of way, but there’s something about his dark eyes and rough facial features that makes my heart start pounding a little faster. His dark hair is short and messy, like a quick towel dry was enough styling for him. He doesn’t look like the kind of guy who would spend a lot of time in front of the mirror, but that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t spend an evening looking at him—enjoying every second of it.

He starts yelling something but the crowd is screaming so loud around me that I can’t hear. What is he saying? What is he looking for?

I can’t help but wish that someone would feel so strongly about me that they would act like that.

“All right,” Chloe says, yanking me out of the crowd. I glance back one more time at the armored tank of a man, hoping he finds what he’s looking for, before Chloe grabs my chin in a strong grip and turns me toward her.

“We have to act like groupies to get back there,” she says as she jabs my hair with her fingers and fluffs it up.

“Ow,” I wince, trying to get away from her.

Her eyes narrow and she bites her bottom lip as she looks me over. “Seriously, Angie, do you have any sexy clothes?”

I’m about to respond when she grabs my blouse and yanks it open, sending two of the buttons clattering to the ground where I can’t find them.

“That’s better,” she says, pulling my shirt open to show my bra.

“No, it’s not,” I say, quickly trying to close it before anyone sees.

While I’m distracted with my shirt, she pulls up my skirt so high that it barely covers my ass.

“Hey!” I say, trying to slap her hand away as I pull it back down.

The band starts playing a song and I turn back to the stage. It’s Crushing Her. One of my favorite songs.

“Let’s go,” she says, pulling me forward. “You look as slutty as you’re going to get.”

“Can’t we just stay here?” I ask, feeling nauseous with the thought of going backstage with someone as wild as Chloe. “I want to hear this song, and I’d like to see the next band.” The concert is a double show with another good band called Broken Wings coming up next.

She leans in close, chewing her gum in my ear as she looks up at the stage. “Those guys will write their next song for us after we’re done sucking their cocks.”

My mouth drops open in shock as I stare at her. Suck what?

She looks at my hanging jaw and smiles. “You’re finally getting the right idea,” she says before turning and pulling me to the exit.

My heart is beating so fast as she drags me to the security guard who’s standing in front of the exit with his massive arms crossed over his chest. He doesn’t say a word as we approach him. He just stares at us with blank eyes.

Chloe twirls her hair around her finger as she thrusts out her chest. “We’re with the band.”

“Sure you are,” he answers, not looking like he’s buying it.

I take a breath of relief. We won’t get backstage without passes, so it looks like I’m safe.

But Chloe isn’t giving up that easy. She steps up to him nice and close, and gently takes his wrist. The guard grins as he lets her guide his hand under her shirt. My mouth drops as he grabs a handful of her boob.

“Now will you let us in?” she asks, pulling his hand back out.

He rolls his eyes and motions with his head to let us pass. “Go on.”

I swallow hard as I pass him.

“What about you?” he asks, staring down at me with preying eyes. “Do I get a feel?”

I cover my breasts in a panic and race past him to catch up with Chloe.

* * *

About twenty minutes later, we’re standing outside the band’s dressing room waiting to go in. The biggest man I’ve ever seen is standing in front of us, looking bored. He doesn’t even look real. His hulkish size makes him look like he’s a different species or something.

“All right, ladies,” he says as he grabs the door handle. He turns it and swings the door open. The thick smell of weed comes pouring out, burning my nostrils.

“I don’t know about this,” I say for the twentieth time, feeling my nerves take over.

“Oh, relax,” Chloe says, grabbing my wrist and pulling me inside. “Loosen up.”

I hold my breath as I get dragged into the smoke-filled room. The door slams closed behind me, making me jump.

Chloe already ditches me as she struts over to the oversized couches that the band is lounging on. There are girls everywhere—most of them looking even sluttier than Chloe—and I immediately feel out of place. This was a bad idea. I should have been more firm with my denial, but Chloe is older than me and seemed to know what she was doing. Plus, she is my ride home.

There’s a bar against the far wall with open Whiskey, Vodka, and a bunch of other bottles I don’t recognize laying on it. My eyes widen in shock when I see the topless bartender lean over and do a line of cocaine off of the bar.

“Hey, Andrew!” Chloe shouts in a party-girl voice as she shakes her hips on the way to the couch. There’s already a girl blowing him, but that doesn’t stop my coworker. She just climbs over the girl and shoves her tongue down the drummer’s throat.

I’ve never wanted to be somewhere else so bad in my entire life. I’d rather be in the dentist’s chair than standing here awkwardly in front of the door.

My hands can’t stop fidgeting with my purse that’s hanging in front of my body like a shield. I gulp as I look around, feeling nauseous. Chloe is tying her hair back into a ponytail as she’s about to take turns with the girl who’s sucking on Andrew’s cock.

Just leave. Just leave. I keep telling myself that, but my feet are glued to the floor. Maybe if I just stand here, no one will notice me.

My heart speeds up when my plan fails, and a guy starts walking over—staring at me with bloodshot eyes. He’s got a huge joint in his hand that’s pouring out thick gray smoke into the already polluted air.

Without a word, he slides the cucumber-sized joint into my hand, kneels down in front of the potted plant in the corner, and throws up.

Why am I here? My pulse starts to race as I hold the joint as far from my body as my arm will allow.

I glance back at Chloe, hoping she’s ready to leave, but she has her lips wrapped around the drummer’s dick. We’re not leaving anytime soon.

“Hey!” a voice calls out from the couch. My skittish eyes dart to the sound, and I see the leader singer of Wannabe Gods, Joey, waving me over. He’s not wearing a shirt, and even though I thought he was looking hot on stage, all I feel now from looking at him is nausea.

“Come over here,” he says, waving me over. There’s a brown haired girl in only a black lacy bra and jeans kissing a trail up his stomach. I gulp when he pushes her off and stands up.

“Shit,” I mumble when he starts walking over. Come on, Chloe. Let’s get the heck out of here.

“Hi,” Joey says, smiling at me when he arrives. His strung-out eyes never leave mine as he takes the smoking joint from my trembling hand. My heart is beating so fast with him in front of me, but it’s not because I’m standing in front of a celebrity. It’s because he has needle marks on his forearms and I want to get the hell out of here.

He raises the joint to his lips and takes a long inhale. The tip burns a bright orange as he stares at me with dull blue eyes.

“Good show,” I say, trying not to stumble on my words. I glance back at the closed door behind me and gulp.

He blows the smoke over my head and nods. “Want to come see my guitar?”

My eyes dart around the room. There is no guitar in sight.

“That’s okay,” I say, fidgeting with my purse. “I’d rather stay here.”

He leans in close and the foul smell of whiskey on his breath assaults my nose. “You don’t understand,” he says as he grabs my wrist, squeezing it tightly. “Come in the back and see my guitar.”

From the look in his eyes and the inflection in his words, I’ll be seeing a lot more than his guitar if I go back there.

“I’m good out here,” I say, laughing nervously.

I look around for help when his grip on my wrist tightens, but everyone is either too busy doing drugs or doing each other.

“You’re funny,” he says, making me swallow hard. I didn’t realize I was telling any jokes. “And cute. Come.”

He turns abruptly, and yanks my arm, pulling me off balance as he drags me to the door beside the bathroom.

“I don’t want to—”

My heart nearly stops when he opens the door and I see inside. It’s a tiny room with only a soiled-looking cot against the wall with messed-up dirty sheets on it. His guitar is lying on the floor next to it with little white powdery lines of something that I’m guessing is not snow.

“No,” I say, yanking my arm back. I shake my head as his eyes narrow on me. “I’m leaving.”

With or without Chloe. I’ll take a taxi. I’ll walk back if I have to, but I’m not staying here for another second.

I turn toward the door, but Joey grabs the waistband of my skirt, and yanks me back in. As I fly backward, the main door opens and the frantic guy I recognized from the crowd steps in. His eye meets mine and then darts behind me to Joey who’s pulling me into the room.

Rage ignites across his face as his thick jaw clenches and his nostrils flare. The look is so intense that it makes me shiver.

I don’t see it for long because Joey closes the door, trapping me in the room with him.

And then, all hell breaks loose.