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12
NOAH
Breathe in.Breathe out.
Pretend I’m alone. Focus on the beat. The kick drum pulsing through me. The low, throaty notes of the bass guitar. Feel the strings beneath my fingertips. Let the music carry me away.
I touch my chin to my chest and sway to the song.My song.When I squeeze my guitar pick between my fingertips, it digs into the skin, and I grab onto that pain. It settles enough of my distress that I can peel open my eyes and lift my head, finding Garrison watching from down in the pit. His scrutiny pushes me to wave back at Justice, giving him the go-ahead to lead into the song.
The drum line picks up, and the rest of the band follows his lead. It’s loud. The mix of instruments behind me still makes me uncomfortable. We’ve played together before at small shows. Not a venue this size, though. The music echoes and plays back in my ear. I flinch but don’t miss my cue.
The lyrics fly out on instinct, carried through the venue by the mic at my lips. I’m tense, and you can hear it in my voice. I tap my foot on the stage and somehow keep pace with the beat in my ear.
The disapproval on Garrison’s face is obvious. I’m not playing like I should. Even without him here, I would know that. I grip the neck of my guitar and press the body into mine before beginning to strum. The leather strap resting on my shoulder is heavy with the weight of the new guitar I got yesterday. It makes me feel unsteady.
With one last drumbeat, the song comes to an end. The silence that sits like stagnant water around me is uncomfortable. It seems my terrible performance was obvious to everyone.
“You hear that, Noah? That’s the sound of a silent arena. If you keep playing like that, you better get used to that sound because nobody in their right mind will come to see you,” Dagger growls, stalking toward me with his oversized, clunky boots dragging along the stage.
I hold still, keeping my expression blank as he closes in. The only sign of my rage is the snapping of a guitar string that I’ve tugged too hard.
“Dagger,” Justice warns from behind me.
Dagger swivels his head toward him and snarls, “Fuck off, J. I’m not letting this asshole ruin our careers because he doesn’t give a shit about his!”
“It’s been one song. Chill out,” Josh chimes in.
I flick my tongue to the inside of my cheek and watch the man in front of me. The vein thumping in his forehead exposes his inability to keep his anger in check. He’s driven by emotion, by a burning, undeniable jealousy. I want to poke at that insecurity and watch him quiver. If only he knew in another world, I would have given him the keys to my castle and sat back as he destroyed himself trying to be worthy of it.
“You sound so confident that you have a career for me to ruin in the first place, Dagger,” I say softly. When he whirls on me this time, his eyes are wild. “But you don’t, and everyone knows it.”
My lip curls as I lean into him and drop my tone so only he can hear me. “The next time you get in my face, I will make sure you can never play another song in your life.” The obvious rise and fall of his throat has me pulling back an inch. “You’re here to workforme, notwithme. Now, get to it, doggie.”
He reels back, jaw slacked before it tightens up. When he hesitates to step away, looking as if he has something to add, I flash the hint of a carnal smile and purr, “Woof woof.”
Claps erupt from the pit, where Garrison stands waiting, watching. I fight an eye roll and turn to face him, brow raised expectantly.
His eyes trail over all of us as he says, “Congratulations. You’ve managed to create a spectacle of yourselves. Are you proud? Does it feel good? Because it shouldn’t.”
The soft clatter of Justice’s drumsticks hitting the ground comes from behind me before Garrison continues his speech, pinning those dull eyes on the drummer.
“The first show is tonight, and not a single one of you is ready. I don’t care how good you think you are because I promise you, you’re not there yet. It’s easy to replace a band. Remember that the next time you want to have a dick-measuring contest,” he grinds out.
Easy to replace a band but not the guy who’s paying your bills is what he doesn’t say. He might have meant the warning for everyone, but I ignore it. If it were that easy for him to get rid of me, he would have done it months ago. We both know that.
“Am I understood?” he asks, voice so loud it echoes around the venue.
“Yes,” Justice and Josh mutter while Dagger appears to be biting his tongue.
My lips twitch with amusement as he struggles to speak. Finally, he croaks a weakyeahin response.
Garrison shakes his head and calls out, “Start again. We’re not moving down the track list until you nail this one.”
And so, we begin again. And again. Until my fingers have gone raw and the lyrics burn like fire crawling up my throat. Only then do we move to track two.
* * *
“Drink this,”Tinsley orders, pushing a mug of tea into my hand later that night. I loop two fingers into the handle and accept it from her.
