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“He’s this way.” He tilts his head and I have no choice but to follow him to one of the recording rooms. Inside I see Rush laying down beats on the drums. Earphones cover his ears, his eyes closed. He’s so into the music nothing else exists.
My dad is smiling from ear to ear. Whatever they’ve been doing today … he’s thrilled. I like seeing him so into this. Representing new bands has been a dream of his. The Wild is his first whack at it. Since he opened the studio a few months ago Willow Creek has been the only band to record here, since it’shisband, it hasn’t had the same effect. I love he’s found something else he’s as passionate about.
Hollis slips by me and onto the couch beside Fox and the other guy whose name I don’t know.
I swallow thickly as I take the new guy in. He’s big, impossibly wide shoulders and a more muscular build than the others, almost like a bodybuilder but not quite. He has neck tats, and tattoos all over his arms, and I’d bet his chest too if I could see beneath his shirt. Idly, I wonder how far they go and a blush stains my cheeks for even thinking it. His ears boast a smaller set of gauges, and even his nose and lip are pierced. His dark hair is thicker on top and slicked over to one side, the sides shaved. A toothpick sticks out between his full lips. He chews on it idly, like he doesn’t even know he’s doing it.
When I tear my gaze away my eyes collide with Hollis’s and I swear he looks pissed. I look away quickly from him too. I can feel my skin flushing red with embarrassment.
“Dad?” I inquire and he swivels his chair toward me, still grinning from ear to ear. His smile is infectious and I find my lips lifting in response. “What do you need me to do?”
“Right now,” he begins, his eyes flicking back to Rush in the booth. “Observe.”
I nod, moving to the corner.
Hollis makes a noise of protest. “Sit,” he orders.
“I’m fine here.”
He rolls his too pretty eyes at me. Everything about him is too pretty, from his amber eyes to his perfect lips.
He stands up. “You sit, I’ll stand. I’m next anyway.”
We stare at each other, a war of personalities vying to see who will win.
I’ve never been outmatched by anyone before, but suddenly I find myself taking a seat while Hollis wears a triumphant smirk.
I cross my arms over my chest, irritated at having given in, but soon the beat of the drums takes over my senses and I forget why I’m pissed. Even Hollis’s self-satisfied smile does nothing to me.
I’m so wrapped up in the music I don’t even notice when Rush finishes and Hollis grabs a bottle of water from the mini-fridge before heading in.
“Scoot over, Red,” Rush commands and I make room for him on the couch. With the four of us we’re squished together, but at least I don’t react to any of these three like I do Hollis who makes my very blood boil.
“Red?” I ask him. “Because of my hair?”
He grins, stretching his fingers. “That and your fiery personality. I can already tell you’re a force to be reckoned with.”
“I’m glad you’ve noticed,” I joke.
“Shh,” my dad hushes us.
Inside the booth Hollis takes a seat on the stool, sliding the headphones over his ears and angling the microphone toward his mouth.
He waits for the thumbs up from my dad and then the background music begins to play. The beat wraps around Hollis’s voice and I’m lost. Drowning in it. I feel the song in my soul. It pierces right through me.
Hollis closes his eyes as he sings.
“They say she’s bad news, no good for me.
They say to stay away but I say no.
Those midnight eyes will drown you, they say.
They say, they say, they say.
They don’t know those midnight eyes hold a promise.
A promise of something more.
