He sighed, hoping that he actually got one of the band members in the shot and not just a piece of ground or the wall of the hotel’s second floor or something. Pierce made his living as a freelance photographer, specializing in candid photographs of celebrities. Unfortunately, thousands of others made their living the same way. If you weren’t lucky enough to be at the front of the throng when a particular group of celebrities made their appearance, you had to count on unreliable shots like the one he just took. He lit a cigarette, then stared at the light flickering from his Zippo. For a minute, he imagined Marissa Michaels, his editor, standing on the flame, her feet burning in agony. Damn her anyway, he thought with a snarl as he blew smoke into the South Seas air. Okay, so George Clooney got that restraining order against the paper. Is that my fault? According to Marissa, it was, and as punishment, he got saddled with following around the hot new rock band, a group with the semi-ironic name of the Don’t Quit Your Day Job Players, on a world tour promoting their album TKB.
