Page 8 of False Promises

Stud, the newest member of our band joined us and slid next to me. “We’re gonna travel the world and be rich and famous, you motherfuckers,” he singsonged, his face fixed into a permanent grin.

He fist-bumped my brother and draped an arm around my shoulder to pull me closer.

One day, we were playing at a festival when Stud Burgess begged to audition for us. Having nothing to lose, Dahlia and I gave him a shot, and impressed with his talent, Riley Burns, our manager, said we’d get a better offer if we brought him into our band permanently.

My best friend and I were incredible together. But the three of us, we were magic.

Carter Hills Band was all of us. Plus, Jeff, our unofficial road-manager. And our biggest supporter.

“I feel like we’re gonna wake up from this and it will all have been a dream,” Dahlia said, sipping on her Coke.

I gripped her hand across the table. “I’ve told you we are ready for the big leagues. It’s about time you realize it too.”

“Still, it sounds too good to be true. Can you imagine us touring Europe and having our songs played on the radio? Because I can’t.”

Jeff leaned closer and kissed her cheek. “I believe it. You guys are destined for greatness.”

Seated on opposite sides of the table, we high-fived. “I agree with you, big bro.”

“We’re throwing a party next weekend. With all our friends,” my brother announced. “I can be your official party manager too.” He nodded. “Yes, that title sounds pretty good.”

Dahlia backhanded his chest. “We need to focus, not party too much. This is the chance of a lifetime. No way are we being stupid. No sex, drugs, and rock ‘n’ roll, guys. Not under my watch.”

I laughed. “Dah, it’s us you’re talking about. Since when are we the wild ones?” I offered her my best smirk and wiggled my brows.

She sighed. “Yeah, but don’t let it get to your head, Cart. Promise me, here and now, that you’ll never let success change you.”

I extended my hand to shake hers. “Never. This is my dream right here. I’m not wasting a minute of it. You have my word.”

Stud scratched his temple, confusion marking his face. With a scruffy blond beard and longish hair, he still looked like the roadie we met a while ago. Not the übertalented and versatile musician we all knew him to be. My friend was destined for greatness. “Dah, we can still party a little, right?”

Her smile reached both ears. “As long as you don’t get into trouble and it doesn’t mess with the band, I guess you’re allowed to party sometimes. Anyway, we have a few years to go until we are twenty-one, so we won’t get invited to big club openings and stuff.”

“Watch out, girl. Eighteen is the legal drinking age in most Canadian provinces. And parts of Europe too.”

She flipped her wrist. “I’m not even afraid you two will be in a pretty pickle. You want this too much to blow it up. But pretend to be rock stars if it pleases you.”

“That’s it, Princess. Keep the boys in line.” Jeff kissed her temple.

We all chuckled and clinked our drinks together.

“To you guys,” my brother said. “I’m proud of you.” He angled himself to face me. “And to you, little bro. I love you. So fucking much. All this time, you were right. I cannot believe this is happening. You deserve it.” We exchanged smirks. “You guys will be huge. I can tell.”

3

CARTER

Dahlia, Jeff, and I were sitting at the table in my house. I had bought this place, a small bungalow on the outskirts of my hometown with some of the money from our signing bonus almost three years ago. It wasn’t huge or expensive, but it was all mine. White siding and navy-blue shutters, dark wooden floors, slate-gray walls, and straight-lined modern furniture, I loved everything about it. Dahlia had helped with the décor, and Jeff had put in some hours to renovate the place. My brother and best friend lived together a few miles from here. For all of us, White Crest, Tennessee, was still home. For now.

Since our first world tour when we were eighteen, we’d been quite busy, barely ever taking any time off for ourselves. I’d never complain. I loved the thrill and adrenaline rush it provided. It paid off because a little over two years later, we had reached the top so many aspired to. Two albums and extensive world tours propelled us to stardom. Until we tumbled down. That period of our existence looked like a ghost of a dream while reflecting back. If it weren’t for the framed platinum albums on the living room walls and pictures of all of us performing at tours on different continents, gifted by Dahlia, I would think those moments had never happened.

Dahlia and Jeff were talking, I was pretty sure of it, but all I heard was noise. White noise that didn’t reach my brain. They came over tonight after I’d been refusing to see them for weeks. The last time we were together, I had a meltdown in my hotel room in Australia after the final show of our second world tour. When my entire world had shattered in a matter of minutes and I lost everything I’d been working to achieve.

The crowd screamed our names. The energy in the stadium was electric. I could feel it reverberating through my body. Their pulsating enthusiasm echoed in my blood. We made it. Carter Hills Band was at the top. The new sensation in country music worldwide.

Unable to hide the smile splitting my face, I locked my arms around the necks of my bandmates.

Nothing could steal this moment from us. From me.