Catch My Breath (23 page)

Danny Bright @DannyBoy94

@EPriceisRight Morning sunshine! Breakfast is ready :) #jealousladies?

Elliot Price @EPriceisRight

@Dannyboy94 Coffee!! I need coffee!! <3

Mrs. Price @Elliot4evah

@Dannyboy94 @EPriceisRight Cream and sugar, boys?

Elliot Price @EPriceisRight

@Elliot4evah Who needs sugar when there’s Danny? ;)

Reece Beaufort @SouthernBoyReece

@Dannyboy94 @EPriceisRight You two are so cute… where’s MY breakfast?

Tate Ryan @TateRyan_RL

@SouthernBoyReece Sorry honeybear! On my way ;) @Dannyboy94 @EPriceisRight

DELLY IS ON!!

A Candy Scoop Exclusive

You heard it here first, girls! DANNY BRIGHT and ELLIOT PRICE, two of our favorite hotties from STATIC are off the market—with each other!!

Just kidding of course…
wink, wink
.

While they may not be exchanging vows any time soon, it seems like our boys have taken their raging bromance to the next level and are looking for an apartment in the city together!

OMG, how adorbs is that?!?

Neither are keen to stay at home with the ’rents, and the daily drive in for meetings, interviews, and oh so glamorous photo shoots was just too annoying—either that or they just missed their snuggle time. We’re voting on the second option and still hoping for pictures!

No news on the whereabouts of said love nest, but as soon as we know, you will!

—CS

“I’
M
NOT
wearing this,” Reece growled. “I look like a fucking dork.”

Elliot tried to hold in his laughter, but he couldn’t. They
all
looked like dorks.

Reece, badass Southern boy Reece, who typically wore faded jeans and band T-shirts had on a fitted pair of khakis, a cable-knit sweater in a light minty-green, and a button-up underneath it. He looked supremely uncomfortable and yes, pretty damn dorky. Webb’s shirt wasn’t quite as bad, but it was still pastel, and it coordinated with Reece’s sweater. Danny had on a pale-colored denim jacket. He’d gotten off the easiest; they’d stuck Elliot with a button up of a different color and effing suspenders, like, really? Suspenders? Tate had a polo with the collar popped ’80s style and slim-cut white jeans. They had on matching white Converse. All of them. Matching shoes. It would’ve been funny if it wasn’t so damn embarrassing.

“Shut up, suspenders.” Reece shot Elliot a glare, which only made him laugh harder. “And what did they do to your hair?”

Elliot’s messy curls had been styled into a shape he had no name for, swooping off to the side and flipping up. He’d gotten subtle highlights too. He kept trying to shake his hair, to get it going the way it used to, but the stylist had known how to cut it just right so he’d never look exactly like he used to again.

“Look at Tate,” Reece snickered. Gone were the sandy, shaggy surfer locks. In their place was a towering quiff, more bleached blond than anything. “He looks like a cross between Jimmy Neutron and a douche.”

“You’re mean.” Elliot still laughed behind his hand.

“Why did they leave Danny alone?” he asked.

Elliot shrugged. “Danny already had an expensive haircut. Guess he didn’t need as much help as the rest of us lowlifes.”

“But they did stick him in a pink jacket, and those pants? They’re so tight he’s gonna be singing soprano.”

Elliot had noticed the pants. Damn. They
were
tight. And on Danny, tight was a work of art, hugging his thighs and that perfectly round—
Oh my God….

“Are you drooling at his ass?” Reece asked.

“Mmmhmmm,” Elliot answered absentmindedly. His gaze never left Danny once.

Reece shoved him, laughing. “Keep it in your pants ’til we’re done with the shoot, please.”

Elliot rolled his eyes.

A
FTER
they got over their humiliation at being overly styled and coiffed within an inch of their lives, the photo shoot wasn’t bad. Fun, in a tiring kind of way. Sure, they had to pose and act like they were laughing when they weren’t and jump up and down and land in piles of elbows and knees and feet flying in the air, but it was them, and Elliot was glad to be with his friends driving the photographer nuts and making everyone smile.

Elliot was dragging by the time they were done with the photo shoot, though. It had been fun being dorks with his friends, cheesy outfits or not, but they’d been there for hours. He was more than ready to go home, get in bed with Danny and never get up again. They were all packing up to leave when they heard the screams coming from outside, faint but growing.

“What’s that sound?” Webb asked.

All the boys froze. “I can’t tell,” Tate answered. He went over to the window and looked out. Tate’s eyes slowly widened. “You gotta see this,” he murmured. “No way.”

“What is it?” Danny asked. He joined Tate at the window. “Holy crap. Guys, come here.”

Elliot, Reece, and Webb made their way over to the window. When he looked out, Elliot’s stomach dropped.

There were
hundreds
of them. Screaming, waving signs and cameras, and jumping up and down, pressed against the building in a raging hormonal sea of teenage girls. It was both really exciting and terrifying as hell.

“We gotta go out that way to get to our van, guys. They’re right in front of the parking lot.”

“What are we going to do?” There was no way they’d make it through that crowd without getting ripped to shreds.

The photographer came back into the room. “Wait here, boys. We’ve called the police. Somebody must’ve tipped off a radio station to your location. They announced it on air.” The photographer made a disgusted noise. “What did they think was going to happen?”

“I guess not this.”

The boys all looked at each other in awe. “Can you believe they’re all out there to meet us?” Reece asked, voice quiet.

“Us…,” Webb echoed. “It’s crazy.”

“Should we just go and talk to them?” Tate asked. “Maybe it’ll be okay.”

“Absolutely not,” boomed a voice from the corner. Peter, one of the team from White Star, their new management company, strode into the studio. “It’s not safe out there, guys. We don’t want any of you to get hurt, and we don’t want the fans to get hurt either. The police will put up a barricade so the girls can see you. We have to wait.”

Elliot sank down the wall until he was sitting on the floor of the studio. Screams still echoed from outside, intensifying. Sirens blipped. The police must’ve shown up. He stood to look out the window, watching while the cops barricaded a walkway for him and his friends to get by and wondered how any of it had happened. Just a few months ago they’d been standing in Sasha’s office, not even sure they had a contract.

“Okay, gentlemen. Let’s go. They have it ready for you.”

Elliot exited the building to a wall of noise. He’d known there was a crowd outside, heard it from inside the studio, but nothing could’ve prepared him for what it was really like once he was standing right in front of it. The police barricades barely held them back, this rolling wave of screaming faces and arms and grabbing hands. There was barely three feet between the barricade and the building. It was tempting to hug the walls of the building just to escape the noise and the grabbing and the
girls
.

“Holy fuck,” Reece whispered. Even if they’d seen it from inside, none of them had really felt it, coming off the crowd in waves—desperation, mania, aggression, all of it shoving against the hastily erected wooden railings and the police who’d spaced themselves along the corridor. Elliot looked back at Reece. He knew Reece wasn’t good with crowds, learned that one night on the way out of a particularly crowded movie. This wasn’t going to be fun for him.

Elliot took a deep breath and started down the stairs toward the narrow walkway, their only way out. The girls surged forward, making the barrier shudder. Police pushed them back, as nicely as they could, but still…. Elliot felt bad. He waved at the girls, stuck his hand out to high-five a few of them. His hands were grabbed, and he got pulled off his feet toward the wave of girls grasping his shirt and his arms and even his waistband. Only a policeman’s arms, wrapped around him, stopped him from going over the barrier. He was disoriented, nearly fell to the ground. He stumbled toward the wall, away from the crowd.

“El, come here.” Webb tossed an arm around his shoulder. Webb’s solid presence helped steady him. “You okay?” he whispered.

“Yeah, I’m good. Just got a bit intense there for a minute.”

“No kidding. Stay back here. Wave.”

Elliot nodded. They walked, closer to the wall, waving and smiling at the girls until they turned the corner of the building to the fenced area where their van was parked.

It was better. Much better. There were still fans, crafty ones who’d figured out how to get behind the fence, but the main crowd hadn’t gotten that far. These girls were waiting, much calmer, quiet enough that the cops hadn’t noticed them.

“Guys,” he said quietly. “Let’s sign a few things for people.”

Reece threw him a panicked look. “Are you crazy?” he mouthed, but Danny threw an arm over his shoulder and whispered in his ear. Reece nodded, and the five of them stopped, reaching out to sign notebooks, pillows, a hard copy here and there of the single that had just been released.

“I love you, Elliot!” called a soft voice from the small crowd.

“Danny, Danny, Danny!” said another girl, trying to get his attention.

Others were calling for Tate, for Reece, for Webb. Everyone seemed to want a piece of them. It was intense and awe-inspiring, and even in much smaller doses, kind of terrifying. One girl had tears streaming down her face, black tracks of ruined mascara dripping from her chin onto her shirt. Elliot reached out to her.

“Don’t cry,” he said, pulling her into a hug. “It’s okay. Smile.” He wiped at her tears, and she dragged in another breath.

“I j-just didn’t think I’d get to meet you.”

He was overwhelmed. There was no other word for it. These girls were
crying
… over him and his friends? Elliot was pretty sure he’d never get used to it. “Do you want me to sign anything for you?” he prodded gently.

“Y-yes. Here.” She thrust a notebook out and a pen.

“What’s your name?”

“Sabrina,” she said. Her voice was shaky, but it had calmed.

Thanks for your support, Sabrina! We couldn’t do it without you. Lots of love

—Elliot

He hugged her one more time, then leaned back. Suddenly, Elliot realized he was the only one left out with the fans. The other guys had headed toward the van. Danny had his arm around Reece and helped him up into the van. But instead of getting in himself, he turned and walked back.

“I’ve gotta steal Elliot now, girls,” he called with a grin. Then he leaned in and whispered in Elliot’s ear. “Let’s go now, babe. Before they eat you.”

Elliot grinned. “Bye, everyone!” he called. “Thanks for coming!”

He didn’t think anyone could hear over the deafening screams that came from the place where the parking lot gate had just opened. Danny rushed him toward their van, and they jumped in, sliding the door closed and blocking out some of the noise. Their van rumbled to life and started to move. All of a sudden it jolted, bodies slammed against the outside.

“Dumb girls!” The driver swore under his breath. “Are they trying to get killed?”

The boys stared at each other, none sure of what to say.

“That was crazy,” Tate finally whispered. “What…
was
that?”

Elliot didn’t know how to answer. That had honestly been the most intense five minutes he’d ever spent in his life. He had no description.

“I think that’s going to be what life is like for a while,” Webb finally answered quietly. “I just… wow.”

STATIC INCITES RIOT!

A Candy Scoop Exclusive

Our five favorite boybanders sure know how to cause a ruckus! DANNY, TATE, WEBB, ELLIOT, and REECE, left a photographer’s studio in West Hollywood late yesterday afternoon only to find a huge group of screaming fans waiting for them.

The police were called, tears were shed, but a few lucky fans got to get autographs. One even got a hug from ELLIOT!

“It was the best thing that has
ever
happened to me!” enthused Sabrina Wills, 15. “Elliot gave me a big hug and told me he loved me. He was soooo sweet!”

Sounds like our little flirtatious ELLIOT is on the prowl. SAVANNAH from THE PIXIES better watch out if she wants to keep her man.

— CS

“T
HIS
crap is getting more and more ridiculous,” Elliot grumbled. He slammed his laptop shut and dumped it onto the carpeted floor. “Now they’re making me out to be some sort of horndog, hitting on all the underage fans.” The rumors were annoying. The fact that most people assumed he was available for the taking was even more annoying.