Sugar Music Video II

Inside the third tour bus, designated for the three boys in the band, everyone was gathered—Ethan, Rebecca, Sarah, and Leo, along with Max and Carlos, who both looked utterly exhausted with bags under their eyes.

"Dude, seriously? We were just starting to catch some sleep," Max groaned, rubbing his eyes.

Ethan smiled apologetically. "Sorry, but we need to handle this now."

Carlos yawned, slumping against the seat. "Well, you're the boss," he muttered, before glancing toward the back of the bus. His brow furrowed as he noticed Rebecca chatting animatedly with two unfamiliar men. "Who are those guys?"

Ethan followed his gaze and replied, "They're from Time magazine. They're working on a feature about the next big thing in music, and I figured it'd be a good idea to give them a sneak peek at what we've got planned. You know, maybe impress them a little."

Leo, lounging at the side, raised an eyebrow. "Dude, I don't know how to say this, but you really don't need to impress anyone. I mean, come on—selling out 80k-capacity shows across the country? You're already in."

The others nodded in agreement, but Ethan's smile didn't falter. "Thanks, but those guys might need one more push," he said, glancing toward the two journalists again.

Rebecca had moved on, now chatting with Sarah, who rolled her eyes and muttered, "Great. Let's get this over with. So, what wedding are we crashing this time?" She directed her question at Ethan, who blinked in confusion.

"Uh... pardon?" Ethan said, clearly caught off guard.

Max, who had been quiet for a while, finally spoke up. "You don't mean to tell me you haven't made any preparations for the weddings, have you?"

Ethan smiled sheepishly, about to respond, when Carlos cut in. "Wait—don't tell me your plan was to just drive around and look for weddings. Was it?"

Sarah, sitting nearby, glanced at her three friends and tried to defend Ethan. "Guys, come on. You have to give him more credit than that. There's no way that was his plan."

Leo snorted, leaning back in his seat. "Sarah, take a good look at who you're defending."

Sarah turned back to Ethan, and her jaw dropped when she saw the stupid grin on his face. "Really? That was your plan?" she asked, clearly shocked.

Before they could say another word, a voice came from the other side of the bus. "Hey, guys, what are you all talking about?"

They turned to see Rebecca walking toward them.

Max was the first to reply. "Our superstar here doesn't even know which wedding we're supposed to be performing at," he said, gesturing toward Ethan.

Ethan opened his mouth to defend himself, but Rebecca quickly cut in. "Of course we know where we're going," she said with confidence, as if the very idea of uncertainty was absurd.

She turned to look at the group, catching their skeptical expressions. "Wait a second. You guys didn't really think we'd be driving around aimlessly, hunting for wedding venues, did you?" She raised an eyebrow, looking at them as if they'd completely lost their minds.

Ethan coughed dramatically. "Yes, yes! Why would you even think that?" he said, with a tone that was a little too defensive.

Everyone turned to him, their gazes icy and unimpressed.

Unbothered, Ethan doubled down. "Go ahead, Rebecca. Tell them where we're going. Honestly, the nerve of these guys."

Rebecca sighed, already used to Ethan's antics. "We're on our way to meet Madame Seraphina D'Louvre," she said, adding an air of grandeur to the name. "She's the best wedding planner in the entire state. She's already lined up weddings for us—complete with camera crews, perfect lighting, and everything else we need to look amazing."

After a while, the bus pulled up in front of a grand building that radiated elegance. It was a three-story structure painted in a pristine shade of cream, with ornate golden trims that glimmered in the sunlight. Tall, arched windows lined the façade, their intricate stained-glass designs catching the light in a kaleidoscope of colors. A pair of towering marble columns framed the entrance, where a polished wooden door adorned with brass handles invited visitors inside. Surrounding the building was a lush garden filled with neatly trimmed hedges, blooming roses, and a stone fountain in the center, its gentle trickle adding a serene ambiance.

Rebecca glanced at the group as they took in the scene. "You guys should wait here. I'll go inside, find Madame Seraphina, and then we'll head out to the weddings," she said, stepping off the bus with an air of purpose.

Max stretched and sighed. "Well, since I can't sleep anyway, I might as well get off and walk around. Maybe moving a bit will help me wake up," he said, stepping out after Rebecca.

Carlos yawned but followed. "I'm right behind you," he said, joining Max as the two descended the bus.

Ethan stayed behind and made his way to the front, where the driver, Benson, was adjusting his seat. Ethan leaned against the back of the driver's chair. "Benson," he began, raising an eyebrow. "So, you already knew where we were going, huh?"

The driver, a middle-aged man with a neatly trimmed mustache and a distinct British accent, turned slightly to look at him. "Of course, Mr. Jones. I was informed earlier," Benson said with calm professionalism.

Ethan nodded, his expression caught between sheepishness and amusement. "Oh, right. Makes sense," he muttered, scratching the back of his head.

Rebecca stepped off the bus, her heels clicking against the pavement as she turned to face Max and Carlos. "You boys better not disgrace me," she warned, pointing a perfectly manicured finger at them. "Madame Seraphina is known for her high taste and classiness, and I don't need either of you ruining her impression of us."

Max gasped in mock offense. "Hey! We are classy!"

Carlos crossed his arms, nodding. "Yeah, I mean, look at me—classiness personified," he said with a playful smirk.

Rebecca rolled her eyes. "Sure, you are," she said, before turning as the doors of the building opened.

Madame Seraphina emerged, commanding attention with every step. She was the epitome of elegance, dressed in a tailored emerald-green pantsuit with gold accents that shimmered subtly under the sun. Her black stilettos clicked rhythmically as she walked, and her neck was adorned with a pearl necklace that seemed to radiate sophistication. Her dark hair was styled in a sleek updo, and her perfectly lined red lips curved into a gracious smile as she approached. Her presence alone made it clear she was a woman of high standards and impeccable taste.

"Madame Seraphina!" Rebecca greeted her warmly, walking over and blowing two delicate air kisses on either side of her face.

"Rebecca, darling," Madame Seraphina said, her voice smooth and polished. "What can I do for you today?"

Rebecca smiled, her tone respectful yet light. "Ma, we're ready. I just came to get the itinerary for the weddings."

Madame Seraphina nodded, reaching into her designer bag to retrieve a folder. "Ah, yes, dear. Here it is." Then, with a curious glint in her eyes, she asked, "By the way, where's your superstar boy? If you don't mind me asking."

Rebecca gave a knowing laugh. "Ma, you know how it is. He's in the bus. We can't risk him just walking out, especially with people knowing he's in town."

"Ah, yes, yes. Makes perfect sense," Madame Seraphina replied with a smile.

Meanwhile, Max and Carlos stood off to the side, exchanging looks. "Are we even speaking the same language as these two?" Carlos whispered, and Max chuckled under his breath.

With them all heading outside Madam Seraphina also as she wanted to see The Ethan Jones.

Just as Rebecca finished collecting the itinerary, a man in a sharp black suit came rushing out of the street, his expression frantic. "Madame! Madame Seraphina! You're here—that's fantastic!" he exclaimed, almost out of breath as he approached her.

"Deary, what's the matter?" Madame Seraphina asked, her brow furrowing slightly.

"We need your help!" the man blurted out. "It's my best friend's wedding, and the band just quit! We need you to find another one ASAP." His voice was desperate, his hands gesturing wildly.

Madame Seraphina sighed sympathetically, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Oh, deary, I'm so sorry. All my bands are already booked."

"Shit!" the man muttered, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "Please, you must know someone! What about a DJ?"

Before Madame Seraphina could respond, the door of the bus creaked open, and Ethan's calm voice cut through the commotion. "What's going on here?"

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