Man, that Ryan is wicked hot. And my sister giving me shit about him isn’t helping. I felt my cheeks get warm from irritation when she started flirting with him, mostly because I knew she wasn’t even into him. Good Lord, all I could think was that I was going need to quell that attraction somehow. I tried reminding myself that he’s a professional, he’s there for our career; to document the tour. But those muscular tattooed arms of his were so enticing, and all I could think about was them pinning me against a wall. Distracted by my own lustful thoughts, I didn’t even hear my sister still talking.

“Hello? Sister!” she yelled.

“Yeah, yeah, I hear you, sheesh.” I snapped back to reality.

“You like him, don’t you?” she demanded.

“What? No. Of course not. Well, I mean, I like him as a person. He seems nice.” I stumbled over my words, knowing she would pounce on my newfound weakness.

“Uh, uh, uh, yeah. You like him,” She raised a perfectly arched eyebrow as she mocked me.

“Shut up. It’s just business. He seems nice,” I repeated.

“Yeah, nice looking,” she replied sarcastically. “You are allowed to get some dick, you know. You don’t have to get so salty about the whole thing.”

Always blunt, and often crass, she called me on my shit like always. “There’s nothing going on there, end of subject. And even if I wanted to, he’s here to write about us. I don’t need that shit ending up in the press. I don’t want to end up like –” I hesitated, realizing I was about to stir the pot without even thinking.

“End up like what, Miranda? Like me?” she yelled, the hurt apparent in her voice.

“I didn’t say that,” I tried to recover.

“Oh, you didn’t have to. I know what you were going to say. What I do in my personal life is my business. I’m not going to have this argument with you for the hundredth time, Miranda!” Her anger was evident, as she clenched her fists, her face red. I didn’t mean to upset her, but her shenanigans had gotten us some bad press in the past because she didn’t give a fuck about other people’s opinions. I was always cool with that, and completely supportive… until it came to us potentially damaging our careers.

“Relax, Carmen, I’m not making this about anything else. I’m just saying that I’m not going to get involved with someone who’s basically part of the tour now, okay?” I was trying to untangle the ball of indignation she’d become.

“I don’t need your shit before we even get on the road Miranda, seriously." She had relaxed her stance and her shoulders were less tense, but she was still on the defensive.

“I get it, Carmen. I’m sorry. I’m just saying that there’s nothing going on with the writer, and I’m committed to letting him follow me around so we can get good PR out of this, all right? Nothing else,” I stated.

“Okay. I didn’t mean to jump down your throat. You know I love you,” She grinned at me.

“Well duh, I’m your sister. You have to.” I poked her in the shoulder, causing her to giggle.

“Yeah, stupid genetics,” she laughed.

“Oh yeah? Did someone say genetics? Here I am.” Our dad climbed on board at that moment.

“Hey Dad!” Carmen flipped around to greet him.

“Hey, princess,” he smiled, opening his arms for a hug.

“Now you know…” I started to say, before he interrupted me.

“Yes, yes, I know. My little queens.” I walked over for a hug as well. We were so lucky to have our father as our manager. As often as he’d make decisions -like the writer -on our behalf, he always made good decisions, .We had full access to our money, and he’d put things in place so that we were protected financially from the get-go. He truly did have our best interests at heart, and we were lucky for that. So many bands had shitty representation, or they signed with people who didn’t know what they were doing and they ended up being taken advantage of. That was never a concern for us.

“That’s right,” I smiled.

“How are my girls? You ready for your first headlining tour, or what? This is the big time, milady’s.” He beamed, making me blush.

“I’m so excited,” I replied.

“Me too, Dad. This is fucking incredible,” Carmen gushed.

Laughing at her profanity, which was a family trait, he replied, “It is pretty fucking incredible, but you also earned it. So, make sure you act like it, you got me?” He turned "Dad" on us pretty fast.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I’m going to behave, I promise,” Carmen said begrudgingly.

“What were you two arguing about then?” he asked, knowing he’d walked into something.

Carmen and I locked eyes; neither of us wanted to be reprimanded by our father, so we squashed our debate immediately. Even though we were thirty-two and thirty, respectively, we became five and three in an instant when my dad made that face at us. He knew we were squabbling about something, and he wasn’t having it.

“Nothing, Dad, everything’s cool,” Carmen said.

I raised my hand, as if swearing in. “I promise, she’s telling the truth. Everything is fine. We’re super ready for this.” Part of me was unsure we were really ready at all, but we were going for it anyway.

Looking at me knowingly, he said, “I know you’re nervous, and that’s good. Just channel it and rock the fuck out, baby.” He smiled, knowing that would make me laugh, which it did. We seriously had the coolest dad ever, and there was no denying that.

“You got it daddio,” I giggled.

“Alright, so you two have met Ryan, and had a chance to talk to him. We’re all good here, right?” he asked, changing the subject to business.

“Yeah, Miranda spent some time with him last night,” Carmen smirked.

“Not like that Dad,” I shot her the ‘fuck you’ sneer.

“Uh huh, well, he’s here to spend time with you, so you need to include him in everything. And I mean everything. I want him with you at all times,” he practically demanded.

“Yeah ok dad. Fine. What’s the big deal?” Carmen asked.

“The big deal is that it’s a unique opportunity for a true behind the scenes look at an up and coming band’s first headlining tour. That hasn’t been done. And you-” he turned to me again, taking me by surprise. “I’m serious. I want him with you all the time, you got me?”

“Why me? I’m not the only one in the band.” I didn’t love the idea of having Mr. Hottie McHotness writer distracting me all the time.

“Because I said so,” He pointed at me.

“That is a shit answer Dad,” I replied earnestly. Meanwhile, Carmen couldn’t keep her laughter in any longer.

“I know why,” she said, bemused. Having my full attention, she continued, “Dad thinks I’m a wildcard. The writer has to be your shadow so he doesn’t write about my shenanigans. You’re the good one,” She laughed, knowing that meant the expectation was that I’d always behave, which irritated me. Not that I had planned to get in trouble, per se, but that wasn’t the point at all.

“What the fuck?” I groaned.

“Oh please, you two, stop with the theatrics. Save it for the stage,” Dad rolled his eyes at us both. “Miranda, no one is saying you can’t be you, and that you can’t have any fun on the tour. I’m not an idiot; I raised you both. But Carmen is sort of right. Ryan should spend the most time with you, and frankly, you are the one that has the patience for this sort of thing. Let’s be real.”

I knew he was right. We all knew he was right. But that didn’t mean I liked it, and I hated the notion that I was such a good girl that I had to babysit someone on the tour because of it.

I sighed, giving in to them both. “Yeah, whatever you two. I’m not babysitting anyone, so let’s get that straight right now. I’ll let him hang with me and whatever, but when I want my own time, I’m taking my own time. That’s how it’s gonna be.” I shifted my eyes back and forth between them, awaiting their argument as they shared a smile, fueling my irritation.

“Seems reasonable,” Carmen looked to Dad for reassurance.

“No one says you have to babysit. I’m just saying I’d like for you to be the one he spends the most time with, that’s all. This is good for you guys. It’s a long tour, he’s a good guy, and I had him checked out. He’s not going to be a pain in your ass, I promise." He stepped forward and opened his arms for another hug.

Returning his hug, I just replied, “Okay.”

“Alright girls, your mom is outside, so let’s have some hugs and a little rah-rah, because this is a big fucking deal! Get excited, ladies!” he exclaimed, causing both Carmen and I to laugh again.

“Ok daddy, we’re excited, I promise.” I gave him another squeeze.

As we walked outside, I noticed everyone had arrived, and my mom was talking to Ryan, who although had on sunglasses again, I could feel watching us climb off the bus. I was taking one for the team, but at the same time, I was also looking forward to getting to know the writer. Something about him screamed something particularly non-writer to me, like he had secrets he was holding onto, and I was going to enjoy finding out what that was.