Crap, this guy’s gonna break my heart.
I pushed the thought aside, beamed at him like a fool, and heard myself saying, “Pretty good comeback, rocker-boy.”
Chapter 2
TYSON
The same night
“Dude, are you ready?” Zane put his arm around me, gauging my nervousness. He was always making sure I felt comfortable, knowing that I hadn’t fallen into this lead-singer gig willingly. Tonight, after all, was a huge night for all of us.
“I’m so ready.” I shook out my hair after finishing my standard pre-show vocal warm-ups. “This is so fucking awesome, have you seen the crowd?”
For once, I was as exhilarated and giddy to go onstage as my bandmates. I didn’t have an ounce of the usual pre-show jitters. Crammed into the small closet next to the stage that The Mission had designated its “green room,” this was our biggest night as a band. Something in my gut told me this was the show that would change my life.
Connor, our big, burly bass player finished changing a string that had busted right before we were meant to start and was now tuning his bass. “Sorry, guys.” He looked up from his instrument, his eyebrows still furrowed in concentration of the task he’d just completed. “It’s fixed.”
Jace, filming us with his camera phone, spoke directly to our Facebook Live audience. “And that, folks, is how you miss your set time for only the biggest show of your life!” He had a funny way of capturing us all on his social media videos, while remaining relatively anonymous himself.
“Fuck off, Deveraux,” growled Connor as he pushed the camera out of his way.
“Okay, okay!” I held up my hand to get everyone’s attention. “Knock it off. Tonight is going to kick ass. We’ve worked hard and now after two years of playing every coffee shop, house party, and dive bar in Seattle, we are finally playing a sold-out, headlining gig at The Mission in front of five hundred people. We’ve got this!”
“Fuck yeah!” Zane bopped up and down excitedly. Holding his fist out toward the group of us he shouted, “Fist pump!”
Obligingly, we all held out our fists and knocked knuckles before Connor stalked through the door and headed up the stairs to the stage. Jace followed right behind him. Finally, Zane laughed and saluted me as he bounded to his place onstage. When Connor and Jace were in place, they gave Zane a nod. Legs spread wide, our brilliant guitarist struck a chord before shredding into the mind-blowing intro to a new song called Catatonic.
I became a little emotional while waiting for my cue. It truly did feel like my life was about to change when I watched my band-brothers start the show. The crowd was going mental. I could hear them screaming my name, which still freaked me out a bit. All I ever wanted was out there on the stage. Within my grasp. Tonight was my ticket out. My way to turn my life around from being the shy, nerdy loser I’d been not that long ago.
Singing, playing guitar, and songwriting were permanently in my blood, which meant things were different now. As a member of a popular band, I’d slowly gotten used to the fact that we represented a certain rock-star fantasy to our followers. A captivating stage presence and tons of social interaction with fans were mandatory in my own role as the lead singer. None of it came easy to me. It had also taken a long time for me to come to terms with the fact that good business decisions mattered almost as much as talent if you wanted to succeed.
And I had no choice but to succeed. Music and my band were all I had. My only hope of breaking free from my fucked-up home life was if LTZ made it big.
Taking a deep breath, I heard Zane play my cue. Determined to secure a future for myself and my band, it was time to up my game and embrace my role. I was the lead singer of fucking Less Than Zero. I would put on a show that blew the faces off our fans, both at the club and on our YouTube live-stream.
When I took the stage, I could feel the crowd humming with anticipation. This buoyed my confidence, I felt energized and alive. Giving it everything, I wailed and thrashed around the stage, singing my heart out and feeding off the energy of everyone who sang the words to our songs with me. Mind-blowing. I was so pumped with adrenaline, I made it my goal to own each and every person in the audience.
Halfway into the third song, like a powerful magnet, my eyes snapped to a pint-sized beauty in the second row with a mane of the most beautiful long, sun-kissed hair that cascaded in waves and framed the milky, smooth skin on her angelic face. Her huge hazel eyes were kind and confident, her full lips begged to be kissed. She wore some sort of cut-out Van Halen shirt and black skinny pants, and the luscious curves on her stunning body made me salivate. She wasn’t posing or pouting, she didn’t try hard at all.
She was the most jaw-dropping woman I’d ever laid eyes on.
Observing her swaying, almost hypnotized to our music, sent a bolt of lightning into my heart. She was lost to the beat, her glossy, pink lips mouthing some of the words. Every fiber of my being wanted to jump off the stage and kiss her senseless. For now, all I could do was try to catch her eye. Make a connection. So I sang directly to her with every ounce of emotion I possessed, hoping to get her to look at me, even if just for a second.
As if she read my mind, her gaze locked
