PTXperience(s)

The Baddest Girl

Avi was rather proud of himself. He was getting sort of good at this selfie-thing. Of course he had to be just out of the shower with his hair down and curling and without a shirt (just enough to show some chest hair but no lower—he had so far not managed a six-pack) to even be on par with Scott or Mitch who could take a picture any time of day and look gorgeous.

But he wasn't half bad, he decided, looking at the pic again before posting it to Instagram and waiting with some anticipation for the comments. It was nice to be reminded that, to some fans, he was at least as attractive as his bandmates. His low voice had something to do with it, too, of course—something about being able to vibrate a person's insides from across the room apparently made some women (and a few men) swoon—but it helped that he wasn't entirely unpleasant to look at. When he tried.

When he arrived at the studio an hour later Kevin was shaking his head at him. "What?" he asked, though he knew very well 'what'.

"One day, man," Kevin told him, clapping him on the shoulder. "One day one of those girls is going to snap and jump on you. You know that, right?"

Avi just laughed. "What makes you think that isn't my plan?" he joked.

"Seriously, man. You shouldn't tease them."

"It isn't teasing."

Kevin levelled a glance at him.

"It isn't! I just thought I looked good this morning."

"Avi, let's face it: you're a tease."

"Am not."

"Are too."

"Not."

"Too."

"Not..."

"All right, children!" Esther called, clapping her hands. "Any chance we can get this session rolling? I, for one, have actual plans this afternoon."

The shenanigans would have to wait. It was time for work.

Weeks later, Avi remembered the conversation with Kevin. They were on tour with Kelly Clarkson at an outdoor venue, he was wearing his black blazer with no shirt underneath, had his hair down, and throughout the show he'd smiled and danced and gyrated and rumbled and growled...

And, as they stepped down off the stage, a girl (perhaps seventeen, he couldn't be sure) managed to jump the security ropes, dodge the bodyguards and get close enough to touch him. He turned at first in surprise and then began to smile, ready to greet her and remind her that this particular part of the show was off limits to fans...

But before he could she grabbed him tightly around the middle and, pinning his arms to his sides, refused to let go even as he lost his balance and stumbled into Kevin.

"Oh my God," she whimpered into his blazer. "Oh my God, you're really real, you're really here, you really smell amazing..."

He stared at the top of her head in silence for several seconds, hardly sure how to react. A brief attempt to extricate himself only succeeded in increasing the pressure around his ribs. "Um," he wheezed, glancing at his bandmates, "help?"

They looked at each other, dumbfounded. What were they supposed to do? Pry her off?

Then Avi had an idea. He cleared his throat. "Well, hi there. I'm Avi. What's your name?"

She raised her head, expression wide-eyed as if a statue she'd been hugging had suddenly come to life. "I'm...I'm Karina," she whispered.

"Karina. Nice to meet you. Would you mind loosening up your hold a little? I think I'm suffocating."

The pressure instantly decreased enough to let him breathe, though not enough to release him. He resisted the urge to fight his way free and gave the girl a warm smile. "Thanks, that's better. Did you like the show?"

"Oh, yes," she answered breathily. "More than you'll ever know. It was amazing. You're amazing."

"Thank you."

Now that it was clear the girl was unarmed and simply an exuberant fan, security was approaching to take her away. As best he could with his arms glued to his sides Avi waved them off, not willing for her memory of their show to become eclipsed by the memory of being dragged away by men in uniforms.

"Is this the first time you've seen us live?"

"Yes. But I've seen every video you're in. You're so gorgeous." She buried her face in his blazer again. "Especially with your hair down and your shirt open." Her hold began to tighten. "I just...I'm not sure I can ever let you go..."

He gasped as his lungs began to feel the crunch again. "Not even for a picture together?" he asked in a near-whisper.

"Oh!" Abruptly she released him (not seeming to notice as he took a huge lungful of air) and fumbled for her phone. Then, with shaking hands, she lifted it and, as he bent to get into the picture, pressed the capture button. Then she stood staring at the picture. He patted her briefly on the shoulder. "Bye, Karina, nice to meet you."

And they were off. She hardly seemed to notice.

"Well. That was interesting," Scott quipped. "Welcome to the club of lucky people with fans who want to marry them and lock them in a basement."

"Yeah. Not sure I want that distinction."

"I told you about the selfies, man," Kevin murmured from behind him. "One day one of them was gonna snap and jump on you. You gotta take it easy."

"I'm not trying to tease them. I just...I just want to look good."

"Is that a requirement of making good music?"

He frowned faintly to himself. "No. But it is a requirement of show business."

"Then look good without making seventeen year-old libidos go crazy. It's not that hard."

Avi's frown deepened. He had something to think about now. And a choice to make.

* * *

In the end it wasn't that difficult. The next time he took a selfie he chose to keep his hair up and his shirt on.

And the next show no one tried to crush him. It felt like a win.