Page 284 of End Game

Fuck him.

“And it’s paid… well,” I add, because apparently that's the part my brain keeps circling.

Cami makes a sound and throws herself at me again.

Micah gets pulled into it this time because I grab his shirt.

For a second, the three of us stand there in a hallway like emotionally unstable idiots.

Then my phone buzzes.

Griffin

How'd it go?

I look at Cami.

At Micah.

Then at the phone again.

Dex

so funny story

Ronan

That phrase has never preceded anything reassuring.

Dex

I think I accidentally got a job

Micah looks over my shoulder. “Not accurate.”

Dex

okay FINE

professional music opportunity

Cami laughs.

Three dots appear from both Ronan and Griffin.

I put my phone away before they can start.

I'll deal with that later.

Right now, Austin Fletcher just asked me to come back to Chicago and write music for money.

Not pour drinks and flirt with bar patrons.

Not pick up a last-minute opening slot.

Write.

For Signal fucking Saints.