Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 78163 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78163 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
“Not bad!” he beamed with a Cheshire cat grin before going rogue.
I snickered appreciatively when he tilted the Strat vertically and hopped around the studio on one leg like he was doing a Chuck Berry impression. I joined in, swaying back and forth as my fingers flew across the keys, adding melodic filler to his mini rock concert. He ended with legs spread and one arm in the air in a time-honored rock god pose. I pivoted on the piano bench and clapped enthusiastically.
“Bravo.”
Justin bowed before returning the guitar to the wall.
“Thanks. So…what did you say to him?” He straddled the piano bench and leaned in to lick my lips.
His jeans were frayed at the knees and worn thin around his crotch, and his black T-shirt hugged his biceps like a glove. He looked like a bad boy. A Latino James Dean with just enough geek in him to make him seem accessible and real. Magic combo for a rock star in the making.
“I told you.”
“No, be specific. I mean, does he know about us?”
I hesitated for a second, then nodded. “Yes. Is that a problem?”
“Not for me. I haven’t said anything to anyone…Tegan or Johnny. I haven’t even told Rory. I want to. This is all good, right? Me, you, Zero, the song we’ve written.”
“Well, we haven’t quite finished, but—”
“I did. I mean, I’ve written something I think works, but…I get nervous when things feel like they’re coming together. It never works out well for me. I usually fuck it up somehow.”
“We’re in this together, Jus. You won’t fuck anything up.”
I closed my eyes and pressed my lips to his. I memorized his scent as I breathed him in like a fine wine or a sweet perfume. Words like clean, new, coffee, manly, peppermint came to mind. I knew immediately that they were useless adjectives. They might remind me of this moment, but they lacked the poetry needed to describe him. Or to describe the way I felt about him. Or how nervous I felt that his beginning might be the end of us.
* * *
Justin
I was totally going to fuck it up.
Of course, I wouldn’t mean to, but it was just my nature. I couldn’t have nice things. I tried to tell myself that was the old me, and the new me wasn’t gonna blow it. But I had my doubts. About a lot of things.
This might be the chance of a lifetime for Zero. But Hollywood didn’t pursue no-name singer-songwriters or newly formed bands. So yeah, I knew any opportunity here was thanks to Gray and Charlie. Connections mattered. Everyone told me it was as much who you knew as how much you knew in this industry. But as I made my way to Vibes later that night, I couldn’t help thinking I was missing something. And my brother agreed with me.
I adjusted my earbuds when Rory’s voice broke midsentence. “…be prepared to slay. That’s all you can do. If it’s a legit deal, you’ll soon find out. If not, you’ll find that out too. But either way, you can’t win or lose if you don’t take a chance. Listen to your younger, wiser brother. I’m always right.”
“I know that, dummy,” I huffed.
Rory guffawed. “Say it again. I gotta record this. Go on…Rory is always right.”
“Rory is always a pain in the ass,” I said slowly. “Of course, I’m going for it. I’m just not sure what ‘it’ is. I trust Gray, but I don’t think he really knows the behind the scenes BS grunt artists like us deal with. We’re nobodies. The only reason the producer is interested in us is because of Xena. Gray says—”
“Whoa. ‘Gray says this, Gray says that.’ What’s going on with you two?”
I stopped on the middle of the sidewalk and leaned against the stucco façade of a bank building before glancing at my watch. I had fifteen minutes to get to Vibes for my shift. Plenty of time to spill my guts. I filled Rory in on the project I was working on with Gray. I tried to downplay the note of hero-worship I heard in my own voice, but nothing much got by my brother.
“…a real contract for Zero and the other for me to cowrite the love song. It’s a great song. Even if Xena sings it. The song is almost finished and Gray’s a master at arranging music, so it shouldn’t take long to—”
“Whoa! You’re writing a love song? For Xena? Are you fuckin’ with me?”
“It’s not for Xena. Geez! It’s just a business opportunity.” When he didn’t respond, I glanced at my cell to make sure he hadn’t hung up on me. “Are you there?”
“Yeah, I’m here. Since when do you care about business opportunities? You’re falling for him, aren’t you?”
I fixated on a rainbow flag taped to the inside window of a barbershop and rolled my eyes, though the gesture was lost through the phone connection. “Why is it that people in love always assume everyone else is looking for the same thing? How’s Christian doing, by the way?”