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“Sounds good, almost there,” Tommy called out, and I nodded in agreement.
I started again, this time with Brodie doing the vocals and me on backup. I leaned into the mic and sang the first chorus, but the feedback pinged loudly.
“Shit, that sounds awful. Ace?”
I looked over, but he was busy typing away on his phone.
“Yeah?” Ace looked up, his face flushed. “Sorry, I got sidelined. Hold on.”
He put his phone in his back pocket and walked over to fiddle with the mic. Then I noticed that he’d cut his long hair by several inches, and it now barely touched his shoulders. It suited him. We often joked together about who could grow their hair the longest.
It appeared I was now winning.
“Damn feedback issue with these mics lately,” Ace grumbled. “I’m gonna look into replacing them for the next round in May.”
“What’s with the haircut?” I asked.
“Just cleaning it up a bit. Don’t worry, I ain’t chopping it all off. Colm would not be happy if I did that.”
Our sound engineer had hit it off with one of Brodie’s PR dates back in October. Colm was a twenty-something model and actor, and no one had been more surprised than Ace when they sparked.
“Should I assume your haircut means Colm is headed here?”
Ace nodded, a huge grin on his face. “He’s flying in tomorrow for a photoshoot. I haven’t seen him in over five weeks.”
“Will he be at the show?”
“I wish. His flight doesn’t get in until nine.”
“Come party with us afterward.”
“Well,” Ace flushed again. “Given that it’s been over a month since we’ve seen each other?—"
“I get the picture. Enjoy your reunion,” I teased.
“Oh, we will.”
Jesus, I was surrounded by ridiculous couples in love. And, of course, as soon as I had that thought, I looked up and met Dawson’s intense stare. Like he could read my fucking mind, he gave me a slow smile that had my cock jerking.
Thank God for the cover of my guitar.
I shook my head and started playing the riff to “Wanton Destruction”. Dawson started to laugh.
That song was us, all right.
Then Regan tapped him on the shoulder, and he looked away.
Breaking out of my trance, I turned back to the guys.
They were all staring at me with stupid grins on their faces.
“Get back to work!” I yelled out.
After a couple more rounds of adjustments on the rest of our equipment, we tested out “Filthy Pain.”
Everything sounded great, and we were ready for a break. We had lunch together, and then Brodie and Van headed to one of the dressing rooms. Ronin, Faise, and I chatted with the stage crew.
Finally, Harlow showed up. No explanation was given, and none of us cared enough to ask.
