Eleanor wasn’t saying much, eyes fixed on some point out the window, not bothering to even glance over at me. I tugged the hem of my dress down and frowned. Was it because I had gotten all dressed up? Did she think I looked better than her or something? I couldn’t help but wonder if she’d been so enthusiastic about that dress because she’d known that it was quite dowdy and would make her appear even more splendid, but now that I’d actually turned the heat up a little she didn’t like it one bit. Which kind of surprised me, how could I steal her thunder. She was by far more attractive than me.

We arrived and picked up the tickets that Eleanor had booked on-line. I looked at the price on my ticket and gulped. That could feed me for nearly two weeks. She must have bought the best tickets in the house. We headed towards the entrance doors. The foyer was packed-out with people, the vast majority of them women, and the place was crackling with a tension that I wasn’t sure I’d ever felt before in my life.

“Holy shit, this place is packed,” I yelled to Eleanor over the sound of the crowd.

She glanced over at me and finally a smile appeared on her face, and I felt a wave of relief hit me, as she seemed to actually be having a good time after all.

“Yeah, well, he’s not going to see anyone but me,” she replied, pointing up to the enormous billboard that showed off a giant, blown-up picture of Chad Weston. His eyes were lowered to the ground, but his body spoke for itself, and I felt a little flutter in my chest as I took him in. I had never been one for guys who were hot in that really showy, obvious way but he was…hell, he was something else entirely, and I had to admit it was doing it for me.

We were jostled around on our way to the front of the queue, but finally, we made our way into the theatre and took our seats. Even in the dark, the place was bathed with a warm pink lighting that made my heart beat a little faster. It looked like we were heading for the front row. So he could see Eleanor, no doubt, or at least that had to be what was going through her mind.

“Are you sure about this?” I asked Eleanor again, suddenly nervous for what was about to come.

She glanced over at me, brow furrowed with annoyance. “Of course, I am. Come on, sit down, you’re in everyone’s way.”

I took my seat and my heart fluttered when I realized that he would likely be able to see me, too, and I was suddenly glad that Sasha had worked her magic on this dress. I wanted to look good tonight, wanted to look really good, wanted to look better than anyone had seen me before.

It must have been the atmosphere pulsing through the room that had me thinking that way, because I had never felt anything like it before as long as I’d lived. It was like a hen night turned up to twenty, to a thousand times more intense. All these women talking and giggling and occasionally bursting out into little shrieks of excited laughter, as though they could barely keep inside how badly they wanted this. I glanced over at Eleanor, smiling, hoping that she would give me some of that same connection, but she was sitting there staring at the stage with a slight frown on her face. She was probably coming up with a game plan inside her head that didn’t include me. I glanced around at the groups of friends laughing and talking and knocking back gulps of their cocktails, and wondered where I had gone wrong that I was missing out on that part of the evening right now.

Suddenly, the house lights lowered, and Eleanor tapped excitedly on my knee, then cupped her hands around her mouth and let out a long whoop, one that blended in with all the rest of the noise coming out of the audience. The excitement in the air was palpable, and I found my heart start beating faster too. I was actually getting into it and couldn’t wait to see what this evening had to bring.

“Ladies…” A loud, cheesy voice boomed from the speakers around the venue. “Welcome to…The Man Up Project!”

The rest of what he was saying was drowned out in a series of shrieks of excitement, and I had  to grin as the curtain ran up and revealed the men waiting for us behind it. There were at least a dozen of them. I didn’t have the time or inclination to count, but they were all moving as though they were in total and utter control of their bodies, totally calm, totally controlled, totally, totally, totally hot. And all of them were stripped to the waist, showing of their insane bodies, sculpted abs and strong arms and bulging pecs.

I scanned the stage to see where the leading man was hiding himself, but I couldn’t make him out.

Maybe they saved him for later. It was hard to focus, given the music pulsing out of the speakers and the noise of the crowd. Most of them were on their feet, but Eleanor was still sitting down, as though she hoped that being different might be what attracted the attention of the Subway fame, when he finally arrived, that was.

Still, I wasn’t going to sit around having a miserable old time just because she wasn’t ready to have fun yet and, taking even myself by surprise, I got to my feet and began swaying my hips back and forth a little to the music. It felt good, really good. There was a whoop from right behind me and I turned around to find the woman in the seat behind ours giving me the thumbs-up. I grinned and flashed her the same sign back. Then I quickly turned my attention back to the stage where the men were dancing, in perfect harmony to the same pulsing beat of the retro dance track that was blasting out over the speakers.

That song came to an end, and the stage was dipped into blackness once more; the audience quieted, as though sensing that something good was about to happen.

At last, when the atmosphere in the room could be cut with a knife: he emerged.