Page 281 of End Game

Micah nods.

I follow Austin.

We don't go far.

Just somewhere slightly quieter near the dressing rooms.

He leans against the wall. “You have fun?”

“Fucking hated it.”

“Thought so.”

I grin.

Then he gets serious. “I wasn't bullshitting you yesterday.”

The grin fades a little.

“Okay.”

“You're good in a room.”

“A room?”

“A writing room.”

Oh.

“You listen. You push back when you mean it. You change your mind when somebody gives you a better idea. That combination is rarer than it should be.”

I don't know what to say to that.

Which continues to be an upsetting theme this weekend.

Austin crosses his arms.

“Signal Saints is doing a writing block in March for our next album.”

My heart kicks.

“Okay.” It comes out as not quite a question.

“Four weeks. Here.”

I stare at him.

He lets me get there.

“You want me to…?”

“I want you in the room.”

My mouth opens.

Closes.

He smiles. “Completely paid session.”