It was everything else.
The endless partying.The egos.The way Jax treated every night like it was his personal victory lap.The way money disappeared faster than it came in.The slow realization that this band, for all its fire, was burning in the wrong direction.
Vic wiped sweat from his face and watched his bandmates laughing and slapping backs in the green room.They looked like they were on top of the world.
He felt like he was watching the beginning of the end.
Later that night, after the party had died down and he was lying on yet another lumpy hotel mattress, Vic pulled out his phone and opened a new note.
What do I actually want?
He typed slowly:
Music that matters
People worth fighting for
Somewhere I don’t have to keep proving I belong
He stared at the list for a long time, weighing every word against the effort he’d already put in to make it happen.
Then he added one more line:
A woman who doesn’t run when things get real
Vic deleted that last line almost immediately.Some things were too out of reach to put into words.
He closed his eyes, but sleep didn’t come easily.
The itch was getting louder.
Chapter Six
Vic
Three weeks after the Louisville triumph, the high was gone.
