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“But I have to go and—”

“You were right, you know,” she interrupted.

“What?”

“You’re a much better singer than Brandon Evans.”

He blinked. “You’re a fan?”

“Not really,” she admitted, bringing an unexpected smile to his face. “I grew up listening to classic rock. But I just spent the past hour or two listening to you guys perform. You get some interesting nuances in the acoustics down here.”

Tilting his head, he repeated, “Nuances?”

“Yeah. It was easy to pick out the different vocalists. You’re Archer, right? I did some research on you guys before I came to the show with my uncle.”

Deciding that he’d rather spend the next few minutes in the tunnel with a stranger than placating Brandon, Archer moved over and slid to the ground with his back pressed against the door. “You can call me Dane,” he found himself saying.

“The articles I read all said you preferred to go by Archer.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t feel like being Archer right now.”

“Fair enough,” she said with an equable shrug in her voice. “So why are you sticking with this group when the lead singer is such a dill-hole, Dane?”

His lips curved up again. “Because we’re gaining fans every day. We’re on the path to huge success.”

“Largely because of you,” Lily pointed out, mirroring his earlier comment to Brandon. “My research indicated that Suddenly Something has sold more records since you joined them than before. I also pulled up a lot more photos of you than Brandon when I did my searches. You have more followers on social media and a larger fan club. That has to chap Brandon’s ass.”

Archer’s smile widened. He decided he liked Lily Montgomery. His smile faded, though, as he remembered what Brandon had said.

“You may be right,” he said, “but those things won’t necessarily translate into a successful solo career.”

“You cut a solo album a few years ago, right?”

A flush heated the back of his neck, prompting him to reach up and rub it away. “Yeah. It didn’t do too well.”

“It flopped major. The label dumped you like a flaming turd.”

Insult leaped up to join embarrassment. “Gee, thanks.”

“Well, it’s true,” she said pragmatically. “But for goodness’ sake…you were a geeky thirteen-year-old whose voice was still transitioning and it was your first attempt at a music career after years of acting. The press was bound to be brutal with you. You can hardly expect that you’d have the same experience now, especially after the success you’ve achieved with Suddenly Something. Besides, no one said you have to go solo. Just start over with band mates you actually like.”

He considered that. Coming from someone who sounded objective, the words held more power. He wanted to believe her. Part of him, he was surprised to discover, actually did.

“Why did you do so much research if you’re not a fan?” he wondered.

“I’ve been researching an article for my school’s newspaper. My uncle invited me along tonight so I could try and get an interview or two to beef up the piece. I was going to enter it into the school’s journalism contest. Then I got stuck in this supply closet thanks to a couple of your bitchy fans who thought I was backstage to jump you or someone else in the band. Guess they were eliminating possible competition.”

“You’re an aspiring journalist?”

“An aspiring writer,” she clarified. “Not sure if journalism’s the way I want to go, but I’m giving it a shot.”

“Ah. Do you attend a local college?”

“High school. I’m only sixteen.”

His eyebrows lifted. She was nearly the same age as him. “You sure sound older. You speak like…I don’t know. Like a snooty grown-up.”

She huffed at

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