"How am I looking?" Bawdy asks as I snap a picture up close during rehearsal. I examine the picture on my camera as if I even need to. I already know my answer.

But, his band members are around, so I don't want to just loudly announce how he's always sexy and perfect. "They're coming out good," I opt for as my answer.

Bawdy moves his guitar around to his back and closes the space in between us to take a look at my camera. He whispers towards my ear, "Just good?"

"Maybe a bit better than good." He raises an eyebrow, and I shove my hand against his chest. "Shut up, you know how hot you are."

Bawdy grins in response. "True, but I like hearing it from you."

"Can we get back to warming up, or do you two need us to leave you alone?" Jason asks as a joke.

Bawdy meets my eyes and raises a questioning eyebrow. "Let's just run through the last two songs again, and then I think we're good."

"Sounds good, boss," Jason replies.

I step out of the way to continue taking photographs. It's fun getting to watch them get excited about the show, even though they play so often. I'd always arrived after they finished warming up, so I'm really enjoying seeing the actual behind-the-scenes. It's not like I was ever ready in time to get to the shows any earlier.

They've already played at this venue before I arrived. It's their new home base like the one in LA was for a few months. Although, this venue is way bigger. There's so many speakers, I'm worried my ears are going to be blown out. The lighting system is way more advanced than what I've seen him play at before.

As they keep playing, I find myself humming along to the tune, knowing all of their songs too well. I walk around to all of the boys and try to get photographs from cool angles. Zooming in on their hands being put to work to strum, hold a cord, or bash drumsticks.

Not many people are able to get this experience, so I'm looking forward to looking through all of these photos. I'm taking one photography-based class here, and the requirements are pretty broad, so I'll be able to use these. I'm glad I don't have to be held into such a small box this semester.

The band finishes up and moves to the next part of warm-ups: drinking. And probably some coke. Bawdy wraps his arm around me, and I still have my camera around my neck. If I'm here to take photos, I want to capture the whole experience. It's a lot more fun taking candid photos than having them post boringly by their equipment. Anyone can do that.

Usually, the photographer wouldn't even be invited backstage like this. I decide to continue taking photos of them (without including anything too shady or illegal).

"You've been working so hard. Come take a shot with us," Bawdy says before placing a kiss on my cheek. I love how he's gotten so comfortable with me around his friends.

"You guys take it first and then I will. I want to take some photos."

"Look at you being all professional." I don't know how professional it is that I'm about to drink while working, but it's not like I'm on any contract. Bawdy keeps insisting that he's going to pay me, but he really doesn't need to.

The boys take their shots, and then I throw mine back, accidentally dripping some on my camera. So this is another reason why people shouldn't drink while working.

The drinks continue flowing, and I'm distracted with a conversation with Alice, forgetting about taking any more photos backstage.

Before I know it, it's time for them to go on. "You can walk in front of the barricade as much as you want. Can't wait to see you out there, baby girl," Bawdy says before giving me a big kiss. "Also, put these in," he says while handing me earplugs from a bag.

He always knows exactly what I need.

I go out hesitantly into the barricade before they enter the stage. I want to capture their entrance. The lights begin to dim, and the crowd roars. I know that they're not looking at me, but I'm feeling self-conscious that I'm the one on display since no one is on stage yet.

This means I'll probably be in other people's photos. While I won't be the main focus, I still might make some appearances. I'm still not used to being anywhere near the spotlight, so it's making me a bit anxious.

As the crowd starts to shout for Bawdy, he makes his way out onto the stage. I turn my full attention towards him, putting the crowd to my back. Taking a deep breath, I try to forget about all of the people around me. Not being in the crowd myself means I can't easily get lost in it like I'm used to.

"Amsterdam!" Bawdy shouts into the mic. "How we doing tonight?" Bawdy scans his eyes across the crowd but stops when he meets my gaze and winks. My fingers were nervously pressing to the photos, so I'm pretty sure I captured that. I pull the camera away from my face and smile back at him.

He makes me feel so much more comfortable, and he doesn't even know it. I hope he knows it, but I didn't want to tell him how nervous I was to be taking photos of him. He doesn't look nervous up there at all. I wonder if he's always been this relaxed performing. It seems like he was made for the stage. He's so perfect, and I'm afraid I won't be able to capture the emotions that are felt in his songs.

I am used to taking pictures of stationary things or people posing specifically for photos. This Is the first time I've tried to capture movement around me. I had to look up what settings to change my camera to before this. I don't know why my professors expected me to memorize things for exams. It clearly didn't stick and doesn't matter if I can just figure it out right before.

Before I know it, they are reaching the end of their set. The drinks and shots I had before have sunken into me, and I finally was able to stop worrying about those around me. At times, it just felt like it was me and Bawdy, especially when I zoomed in on him with my camera. I also got some cool shots of the other guys. Can't forget about them.

Bawdy comes to the edge of the stage and bends down to sing closer to the fans in front. Most of them are girls drooling over him while reaching out their hands trying to brush even a finger against his perfect body.

I think I've come to the point where these fan interactions don't make me jealous anymore. I'll definitely tell him to take a shower after, because I don't need him walking around with random girls' germs, but I get it. If I want to be with him, I have to understand the fan mentality.

I decide to turn towards the crowd and get some photos of them. I have to take a step back toward the stage, although there's not much leeway in the small space. Seeing everyone's faces feels a bit overwhelming, and I'm glad I'm here hiding in the shadows and not on stage with Bawdy.

To compose myself, I go back to photographing him finishing up the end of his song, and one of my favorites. I can't stop myself from singing along. He meets my gaze and waves me towards him. Instantly, I drop my camera and let it dangle around my neck. He leans down on the end of the stage and caresses my face with his hand.

No one and nothing else exists around us in this moment. He's able to cast such a spell over me just by looking my way and especially when he's touching me. It's like he's putting a protective shield around us. He moves the mic a bit more away from his lips and towards mine, letting my singing be picked up by it. Our voices swirl together, although he's way better than me.

I would have continued to think it was just us here, but the crowd behind us increases its screaming. My eyes look up, and I see myself being projected onto the big screen with Bawdy. I don't have time to be nervous or panic, because Bawdy presses his lips against mine. After pulling away as his guitar player hits the last note of the song, I look up again and see our faces on the screen still.

Everyone saw that.

I smile but can feel heat rising to my cheeks. As I make my way towards the backstage entrance, hands from the crowd start to reach towards me. Flashes from phones blind my vision. I swallow a deep gulp. The few feet to the end of the stage looks a mile long. I hear a couple mumbles of conversations. "Who's she?" "I told you he has a girlfriend." "Why can't that be me." "She's so lucky." "She's not even pretty."

I quickly scurry my way into the shadows, unsure how to react to all of that. I thought I wanted everyone to know that we're together, but I haven't thought much that his fans would care about getting pictures of me. I'm not the performer, Bawdy is. But people don't know how to mind their own business.

Perhaps a bit naively, I thought maybe only the actual paparazzi would care. I guess a lot of fans are going to be interested in me as well.

The show ends, and Bawdy makes his way backstage, immediately wrapping his arms around me. My few seconds of sadness are thrown away from our interaction. We make our way into his dressing room and both remove our earplugs, readjusting to perceiving the world as is. For once, my ears aren't ringing after a concert.

I take the camera off my my neck and give it a little rub. I forget how heavy a camera can feel after a while.

"A bit sore?" Bawdy asks while already sipping on a fresh drink.

"Just tight, but I can't wait to take a look at what I shot."

"Let me help you out," Bawdy says while motioning to me to sit down. He stands behind me and begins to rub my neck, working out the kinks.

"You're the one who actually performed. Shouldn't I be doing this to you?"

"Have to make sure you don't get hurt on the job."

"So you do this to all of your employees?"

He lets out a laugh. "Just you, and you know it." I smile wide. "So how was it working one of my events?"

He continues to work on my neck, and we meet each other's gaze in the mirror in front of us. "It was a lot of fun." I hesitate if I should say any more. I rub my lips together, and he must see my change in composure.

"But?" He asks, knowing me way too well.

"It'd be fun to do sometimes, but I don't think it's what I'd want to do for the rest of my life." Sure, it'd be an adorable story to say that my job is to take photos of my rockstar boyfriend, but that also feels like the easy way out. "I just keep being drawn back to doing nature shoots, and I kind of just want to enjoy attending your shows."

I'm not one to mix business with pleasure, and Bawdy gives me all the pleasure in the world.

"Well, I have been told that a certain part of me is the eight wonder of the world."

I laugh so hard that I snort. "And who told you this?"

Bawdy stops massaging me and walks around to face me. "Whoever made the seven wonders list?" He says skeptically. "You know I don't actually care as long as I get to spend time with you, but I will pay you for this. You worked and should get paid. Time is money."

"You're already paying for so much. You really don't have to. I had fun." Besides panicking a few times, but I don't want to sound lame telling him that. Up until the end, no one in the crowd was even paying me any attention. I just think everyone in a room is staring at me sometimes.

"I'm not changing my mind on this," Bawdy says while knocking back the rest of his drink. He pulls out his phone and types away, looking like he's stumbling a bit to really focus on it. "All done. No sending it back. You deserve it."

"You haven't even seen the photos yet," I laugh. "What if they're horrible."

"Nothing you do could ever be bad."

I shake my head and pull out my phone to find that he sent me $5,000.

"You can not b—," he cuts me off by pressing his lips hard against mine. Well, that's one way to get me to stop talking.