Page 8 of Lyric & the Heartbeats

“Cheers,” Andi answered her.

They tapped the wrappers together before she popped it into her mouth. It was peach flavored, one of her favorites, and she hummed.

It would be anywhere from a half hour to more before it kicked in, but she was more than fine. Plus, she knew she’d sleep well, which would be a welcome change from the previous nights. The auditions had been consuming her thoughts all day and all night.

“So who’s performing? Anyone we know?”

Andi shrugged. “I don’t know him, but I’ve heard his name a few times. Emerson Lockly. Ring a bell?”

Lyric froze, turned her head to Andi, and stared.

“What did you say?”

Andi perked her head up and her smile quickly faded as she looked at Lyric. “Emerson Lockly? Do you know him?”

“We played at the same show that got me signed to my label,” Lyric breathed.

“Oh, fuck,” Andi hissed.

The mood certifiably dimmed, they chatted aimlessly as they waited for the performance to start, and Lyric people watched the hell out of everyone in the venue. As it drew closer to nine, the excitement amped up with each passing minute. Lyric didn’t feel guilty that she’d been scouted at the same show this Emerson had played at. But she did feel… something.

The conversations got louder as the drinks were poured, and by the time the stage lights blinked, the energy in the air was invigorating.

“I love this,” Lyric admitted, turning her gaze toward the stage. Even with the tension in her shoulders, she was in awe of the energy in the crowd.

Watching the crowd’s anticipation grow made her eager to be on tour. She wanted to walk out on stage and feel the energy in the room, and know it was all for her.

As a man walked out on stage, the lights changed to blue, and the candles in the sconces switched in sync.

“Okay, that’s badass,” Lyric commented, and pointed it out to Andi.

As she swung her attention back to the stage, she recognized the fuzzy warm happy feeling of the high enveloping her and she smiled.

The tension she’d been carrying all week slid from her shoulders, and she braced her elbows on the table, cupping her hands together and resting her chin on them. She could still enjoy the show, a musician watching another musician.

“Are you feeling it?” Andi asked with a matching smile.

Lyric nodded and opened her mouth to respond, but a note rang through the venue amps and her attention was snagged to the stage.

Emerson was tall as fuck, broad as fuck, and pretty as fuck. Just like she remembered. She only vaguely recalled him from the show, but he had stuck out as… talented.

“Damn,” Lyric whispered under her breath. He had shoulder-length curly hair, a short beard, and was dressed in a forest green button-up, dark pants, boots, and had a wide brimmed hat on.

He was like a hipster’s wet dream.

And Lyric considered herself at least seventy-five percent hipster.

“Okay, Mr. Woodsy,” Andi whispered in her ear.

Lyric burst into chuckles and hid them behind her hand as Emerson continued to play.

The song intro was slow, moody, and rhythmic. Then he began to sing, and Lyric’s mouth dropped open.

His voice was sexy. Deep and bass, rumbly and smooth at the same time, but he reached for the tenor notes without hesitation, and they rang clear through the amps.

She turned her widened gaze to Andi, who gazed back at her with a knowing smile. “He’s good,” she said, a hint in her tone.

No… she couldn’t mean—?