Page 42 of Fame & Chaos

I close my eyes briefly and exhale shakily. “This is pathetic,” I whisper. Eventually, I end the call before voicemail kicks in.

Silence fills the room again while I stare at her contact for a long moment, my thumb hovering over delete.

One press.

That’s all it would take.

Closure.

Fucking freedom.

Whatever bullshit people call finally moving on.

But instead, it feels like giving up on her completely. And even after six years, I don’t think I can do that yet. So instead, I lock the screen and shove the cell back into my pocket.

“Right,” I mutter to myself. “Time to go get yourself laid and forget she exists for one night.”

The man in the mirror smirks like he believes that’s possible.

But the pain sitting behind his eyes tells a very different story.

I know Colt’s been talking with Rob Luxley about Staked behind the scenes. Rob’s one of the biggest agents in the industry and notoriously hard to impress, but if there’s one thing Uncle Colt excels at, it’s wearing people down until they eventually cave. Dad says Rob’s already listened to some of our demos, which is huge, but I’ve kept all of it quiet from the others.

They’re too young.

Well, maybe not young exactly, but younger.

Excitement makes people reckless, and the second Annie catches wind that someone important might see us play, she’ll either combust from excitement or start a fight with someone because she’s stressed.

Probably both.

Being years older than the rest of them can be exhausting sometimes. It doesn’t sound like much until you live it. When we first started the band, Chad was still practically a kid, while I was old enough to drive.

Even now, there are moments where it feels like I’m babysitting chaos.

Especially with Annie.

Christ, that girl has a temper.

I love her to death, but she goes from zero to homicidal in under three seconds flat and somehow always drags the rest of us into the blast zone with her. Half our arguments start because she refuses to listen to anyone, and the other half happen because I’m apparently the only one willing to call her out on her bullshit.

She hates it when I put her in her place, too.

Absolutely hates it.

But underneath all the fighting, she still looks at me like I’m her big brother. She comes to me for advice more than anyone else in the band, and secretly, I love that she trusts me enough to do that.

Annie’s a good kid.

Emotional as hell.

But good.

I grab Annie’s present from the kitchen counter before heading downstairs toward the underground garage attached to my condo. The night air hits me as I step outside, cool and sharp against my skin. Then my eyes land on my car, and some of the irritation in my chest finally eases. My black Lexus LFA sits gleaming beneath the overhead lights like pure sex on wheels.

God, I love this car.

I bought it myself, too.