I shot him a nervous look. “Does Abel know?” There was no need to clarify what I meant.
“Yeah. He figured it out himself, but we didn’t bother denying it. I’m sorry. I know you were nervous about him finding out. But he needed to know the full picture. It wouldn’t have been fair to hide it from him at this point.”
Abel had agreed to the idea of me joining the band despite knowing the full story. Was I relieved? Maybe a little. But what did he think was going to happen if I agreed to their offer?
The security guards stopped in front of a door labeled “Green Room,” breaking my train of thought. I straightened my leather jacket as we waited for someone to open the door, suddenly wishing I had put on a flashier outfit than my torn-up gray jeans and a Mastery tank top. At least the jacket dressed it up a little. Abel stood in front of me wearing a simple light-gray T-shirt tight enough to reveal the muscular outline of his back. All of the guys looked incredible tonight, and nearly every female—and male—roadie did a double take as they rushed past us.
The door opened. Nick, the front man of Mastery, stood on the other side. His face broke out into a grin. “Hey, y’all. Come on in.”
He slapped the guys on their backs as they walked in, hard enough for everyone to flinch except for Silas, who stood about half a head taller than the front man.
They shared a tense look before bursting out laughing and pulling each other into a hug.
“You fucker,” Nick said as he pulled away. “You get bigger every time I see you. I swear, they fucked up when they cast Chris Hemsworth as Thor instead of you.”
Silas wore this satisfied grin under his beard that made me laugh, which earned me a look from Nick.
“And who’s this?” His gaze skated up and down my form. Normally, this kind of attention from the leading man of one of my favorite bands would delight me, but instead, I simply worried Silas would tear his head off his neck. The guitarist grabbed my arm and pulled me into his side, a move so obviously possessive that Nick’s lips turned up.
“This is Adeline, our session guitarist for the album we’re working on.”
I smiled at Nick and extended my hand. “Nice to meet you. I’m a big fan. Thanks so much for having us.”
He took my hand and winked. “Of course, anything for our friends from Bleeding Moonlight.” His gaze once again found Silas. “I was worried about how you’d fare after everything that happened, but I’m glad to see you’ve been able to continue making music.”
Silas nodded and tightened his hold on me.
The four other members of Mastery were scattered around the dressing room, chatting to Ezra, Abel, and Cole. Silas led me around to meet all of them, and my smile grew progressively bigger with each introduction. People always dream of meeting their idols, and there can be nothing worse than finding out they’re not what they seem. Fortunately, the guys from Mastery were all polite, funny, and seemed to take an interest in just how I’d ended up working with Bleeding Moonlight.
“If you’re looking for work once you finish with these losers, let me know,” Kev, Mastery’s guitarist, told me after hearing the full story. “You must be great if they let you record with them. They’re a bunch of perfectionists, something I’m sure you’ve realized by now.”
Silas tensed beside me, so I picked my words with care. “Thank you. I’m not sure what I’ll be working on afterward, but that’s a very kind offer.”
“Sure. Let me give you my number.”
As he added himself as a contact on my phone, Silas leaned down to whisper in my ear. “Our offer is a little kinder, don’t you think?”
“If by kinder you mean more likely to make my brain short-circuit, then yes.” Their offer had more than one implication, and I was having a lot of trouble wrapping my head around it all.
Nick stood up. “The opening band is about to go on if you want to check them out. We’re going to go warm up.”
* * *
The opening act was a heavy metal band called Flies of Misery, and we watched from the side of the stage, away from the main crowd in the pit.
I’d never attended a big concert this way, and even though the intimate view of the performers was cool, I wanted to be in the middle of the action for Mastery’s performance.
Ezra handed me a beer, meeting my gaze and reminding me of the dilemma I had blissfully forgotten for the past half hour.
I sucked on the bottle as if I could find some answers on its bottom.
Of course, what they were asking for was completely mental. Impossible. Insane.
But as I stood and watched another band bring their all to the stage, something scratched at my heart. This reality, this dream I’d once carried but had long given up on was suddenly within my reach. I only had to stretch my fingers and grab it.
What happens when you disappoint them? When they realize what a mistake they’ve made and kick you to the curb? You may have helped them to pick up their pieces, but who’s going to help you pick up yours?
I emptied out my lungs and looked down at the now-empty bottle.
