The stadium shook with the screams of thousands of women. Mostly teenage girls, but not all of them. There were plenty of cougars and MILFs out there too.

Kendall knew, because he actually read the fan mail on his Facebook page and Insta account. Or he used to, until some of it gave him nightmares.

The opening act left the stage and the audience got even louder.

They were beside themselves, almost like animals.

Animals who were about to be fed fresh, delicious, boy band meat.

Backstage, it was a different matter altogether.

“Put the fucking glasses on.”

“They want to connect with us, not stare at a fucking fashion spread!”

Kendall knew the other guys felt the same way. But they were scared. They didn’t have the same pull as he did. He was the lead singer. It was his job to face off with their manager.

“And I’m not wearing baby fucking blue.”

“You didn’t used to care.”

“I was fifteen, you moron. I’m a fucking adult now!”

The older man scoffed, crossing his arms over his beer gut with a sneer.

“You are eighteen. That means we have to card the groupies we send back. I swear to God, Kendall. You are swimming in mega bucks and teenage snatch and this is how you thank me?”

“I don’t need your fucking help, Morey.” He smirked. “Not in either of those departments.”

“You get out there and perform or you are in breach of contract!”

A sarcastic British voice cut through the sound of Morey’s nasal whine.

“Knock, knock.”

Everyone turned to stare at the open doorway to the green room. Kendall felt the tension leave his body, grateful for the interruption.

Finally, something to shut Morey up.

“Hey man, is this a bad time?”

Bruce and Nick stood in the doorway. They were two of the most famous rock stars in the world, and two of Kendall’s best friends.

They were mentors really. Sort of like a training program for celebrities. The world they all lived in as musicians was off the charts crazy and excessive.

His ‘big brothers’ had taught him everything he knew about navigating fame, and what to do with the rest of his career.

First step: get out of the boy band business.

They’d told him to start stowing money away in anticipation of the career change. Kendall was a songwriter at heart and he couldn’t wait to be taken seriously as a musician.

These two guys had helped him every step of the way.

All because he’d dared to speak to them backstage at an awards show during the peak of the boy band years. The peak which seemed like it was never going to end.

They’d taken him under their wings, teaching him the ropes. What to do, and what not to do, especially when it came to women.

And most importantly, how to find his own voice.

At eighteen, Kendall had already seen a lot. He knew what kind of music he liked. And it wasn’t sugar sweet pop.

But he was still working on how and when to get out of the band. Suddenly he decided that there was no time like the present.

He had all the support and guidance he needed. And he’d avoided any scandals. He’d even saved most of his money, setting his mom and sister up in a big house to keep them safe, and protect a nice chunk of his money.

“No guys, you are right on time.”

Kendall stood up straight and grinned, greeting his friends. They hugged and slapped each other’s backs, nodding at the rest of the band. Bruce and Nick had taught him to treat everyone right, especially backup singers and the crew.

And the fans. You didn’t have to like the attention. But you had to be gracious about it.

“What’s going on?”

“I’m not going on stage in this outfit.”

Nick quirked an eyebrow at him, looking over the track suit. He nodded. Nick was the biggest rock star in England. He was the quintessential rocker.

“Don’t blame you, man.”

“Did they just spring it on you guys?”

Kendall shook his head.

“It’s a new look. I’m not having it.”

“They should have run it by you.”

“Yeah, but they think we are dumb kids, remember.”

Morey chose that moment to open his big fucking mouth.

“Wardrobe is stipulated in your contract!”

Kendall rolled his eyes and gave Bruce a conspiratorial smile.

“Remember what we were talking about? My exit plan?”

Bruce and Nick exchanged a glance and then looked back at Kendall.

“It’s about to go down.”

“If you don’t get out there right fucking now, I’ll sue the hell out of you.”

He turned to face his sniveling manager. The man who had made more money off the sweat of handsome teenage boys than anyone in the world.

“Oh, I’ll perform. But for the fans and the band, not for you.”

He tossed the sunglasses on the ground while the rest of the group looked on nervously.

“But I’m doing it my way.”

Kendall stared at the rest of the guys.

“Sorry guys, this is it. Let’s give them the show of their lives. Our way.”

He felt his heart swell with pride as they all tore off their gaudy track jackets and tossed their sunglasses aside.

Nick and Bruce slapped his back as he left to take the stage.

Kendall paused. He wanted one last word with Morey. The out of shape money grubber looked pale as he stepped closer to him.

Good, he should be afraid.

Kendall was about to rock his world, and his bank account.

“This is the last In Tempo show I’m ever doing.”