Nerves rock through me as we walk off the stage. The audience is screaming behind me, acting like the strongest drug I’ve ever had, but it does nothing to boost me out of the dread swirling in the pit of my stomach. I’m only here because Tristan went missing, and I’ve picked up enough in the time I’ve been playing for Raina to know she loves him.
I’ve lost count of the times I’ve caught her wiping away tears over missing him when she thought nobody was looking.
And now he’s back.
What does that mean for me? Will I get kicked to the curb because he’s decided to magically return? I’ve wanted nothing more than to get the chance to play for my all time crush, and now it might get ripped away. Being around her… it’s the first time I’ve ever felt like more than a fill-in guy. She listens. Not only to the music—I mean really listens. Looks at me like I actually matter.
Before I joined their band, I never planned shit past the next gig. But one day around her, and suddenly I’m thinking abouttomorrow. About tours. About waking up to her voice. That’s never happened to me before.
It’s why I kissed her, desperate to sear myself into her soul. To mark myself there so she won’t dismiss me with him being back. I don’t want to go back to the invisible man I used to be…
Sure, I was infatuated with her before I met her, but not with the glossy pop princess the tabloids shoved down everyone’s throat. It was her voice, her lyrics, the way something in her performances felt like a cry for help no one else noticed. But being with her in real life… it’s different. She’s stronger than the world ever gave her credit for, braver, softer, sharper. She lets me see the parts she hid from everyone else. Watching her take back her career, watching her find herself again… that’s what’s making me fall for her for real.
And I fear it’s one-sided.
I hasten my steps, needing to reach her before she finds Tristan. One more shot, a chance to show her I’m not some schmuck using her like so many before me.
She pauses to speak to Gill, one of the best manager assistants I’ve encountered. It gives me time to lift the strap of my guitar over my head as a roadie stands next to me, waiting for my instrument.
By the time I hand off my guitar, and my attention is back on her, she’s already running off. “Raina! Where are you going?” I shout over the hustle and bustle of the backstage area—the crews are already working on tearing down everything so they can put it back together in the next city we travel to.
She doesn’t respond, leaping over a guitar case left haphazardly open with the instrument exposed, most likely a backup piece someone already started to pack up. Gill snaps at someone, pointing her finger toward the obstacles and instructing her crew to make sure they don’t leave such disorder in the future.
My stomach clenches watching Raina’s blonde hair flowing behind her as she disappears out of view. Did I lose my chance? Is this it, the end of my time with her?
Fuck.
The roadie, who has my instrument in one hand, reaches out to take Nash’s as well. “She’s probably off to find Tristan.” He turns his head to glance at a scowling Keaton. “Think we should give them a moment alone? We probably owe him that.”
The silent drummer gives a grunt. The sound gives me the impression he doesn’t really want to say yes, but he’ll do it all the same. It’s a little surprising since he usually makes sure she’s never alone. It makes me want to follow her all the more.
I move to follow Raina, a desperation I can’t name urging me on. I’m certainly motivated by my feelings for her, but there’s something else there too. Glancing across the hall to the green room, I find Mr. Lexington exiting, a dark gleam crossing his features before disappearing altogether. If I weren’t watching so carefully, I’d question if I even saw it at all.
Behind him, I catch a glimpse of Carmen with Napalm Delights. It’s weird as fuck that they’re hanging around when they aren’t performing on this tour. It only confirms the rumors I’ve heard of how Mr. Lexington runs his company—the grooming and assault that runs rampant with his female performers.
I’ve always wondered if his niece was exempt from it, but it didn’t take long for me to figure out the answer once I got here…
As I shift to the side of the hall to walk past him, he moves into my path, holding his hands out in some kind of gesture of greeting. “Gentlemen, I’m glad I ran into you,” he says with fake enthusiasm. “I want to talk to you about your future with the label.”
The others gather around me, probably wanting to do the same thing as me, make sure Raina is safe, even if we simplystand outside her dressing room as we give her time to meet the bandmate who gave her so much turmoil. At least that’s where I’m assuming she went.
“What do you mean?” Blake asks, his voice cool and even, with a slight air of I-don’t-give-a-shit-what-you-have-to-say. I like the bloke. He’s a good guy, and cares for Raina. All of them are, really. The only one I don’t know is Tristan, but I’m leaning toward him being an asshole. It’s clear he broke her heart.
“What are your goals beyond Raina’s tour?” the knob answers, or Dickless as Raina likes to call him.
First off, I don’t care to engage in this conversation. I’m here to play with Raina. If a day comes where that ends and I’m excused from her band, then I’ll find another gig with a label I respect. There’s no way I’d work for Lexington Productions outside of this situation.
Second, this feels like a stalling tactic. Like he’s purposefully blowing smoke up our arses to keep us here. Which makes me suspicious as fuck. I frown, narrowing my eyes as I edge around him while he’s distracted with the others. Glancing behind me, I find Keaton’s ever-watchful eyes on me. In the split second we hold contact, we share an understanding on three key points.
Dickless is keeping us from her on purpose.
I’ll find her.
He’ll make sure the wanker is kept busy.
As quietly as possible, I find my way down the hall, navigating the maze of this old building to find the dressing room they gave us. I slow when Izzy leaves the room, shutting the door behind her.
“Is she in there?” My heart clenches with the question, because deep down I know the answer, and I’m already panicking with concern. My gut is telling me something isn’t right, and she needs us.
