Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 60750 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 304(@200wpm)___ 243(@250wpm)___ 203(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60750 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 304(@200wpm)___ 243(@250wpm)___ 203(@300wpm)
“Children! Break it up!” I chuckle, my hands lingering on Alyssa’s shoulders. “We’re never going to get through rehearsing these songs if you two spend half our time here trying to kill each other.”
“I’m not trying to kill her,” Van replies. “I’m trying to help her—”
“I never asked for your help!” Alyssa shouts. “I swear to God, Van! You’re being such a—”
“You know what might be good for band morale?” I ask. “We’ve really been working hard these last few weeks in the studio. What if we all went out tonight, had some fun?”
“What are you talking about?” Van turns toward me, scowling.
“I’m talking about us going out for a round of drinks!” I chuckle after I throw out the suggestion. “It’ll be brilliant! Clearly, you two need something to calm you down, and Cam here was just talking about how unbelievably thirsty he is—”
“Don’t drag me into your crap, Rhys,” Cameron mumbles.
“I’m not fucking around,” I continue. “I think it’d be a good change of pace. Maybe then we can get somewhere with this group.”
“…You know what?” Van suddenly offers me a bright smile, so bright that I’m suspicious. “That sounds like a great idea, Rhys. Just name the time and the place and I’ll be there.”
Despite its underground treasure status, World’s End is pretty busy tonight, nearly overflowing with patrons as dance music blasts through the speakers. Glowing neon lights placed on either side of the dance floor pulse in time with the beat. The beat shakes my body too, pulsing through my feet on the barstool, my lungs even getting in on the action. The bar’s fun, but possibly a bit wiser to pick a lesser-known place next time.
I’ve been sitting at the bar for a while people-watching, as I wait for the rest of the band to show up. Officially, rehearsal ended about thirty minutes ago. Van had to drop off some equipment at home and roped Cameron into tagging along. As for Alyssa, she said she needed to clarify something in her contract with Gregory, but after that, she’d be free to join everyone else at the bar.
She also mentioned bringing a friend of hers along to the bar, and I briefly wondered whether friend was code for boyfriend. I briefly began to imagine the milquetoast that would arrive at her side, and how I could decimate him with one comment.
My lips curl on one side into a wry grin as I take a sip of my drink.
What the fuck is going on with me?
Since when do I care if a girl has a boyfriend? Especially a girl I only just met a few weeks ago? A boyfriend is just a goalkeeper, yeah? Someone standing in the way of scoring with the girl you fancy. So what do I care?
“Hey!” Alyssa is suddenly right next to me, her voice in my ear. I look her up and down. She’s changed into a different outfit, going from her typical understated jeans and T^-shirt into a sleek, black dress that hugs her curves. It takes everything in me not to gawk over at her, the blood in my head making its way right down to the crotch of my jeans, my mind racing with thoughts of what I would do to her while that same black dress lies in a puddle on my bedroom floor.
“You look different.” It’s all I say as I force myself to stare down at the menu on the bar.
“Yeah, I know.” She lets out a small laugh. “After I cleared up the contract stuff with Gregory, I stopped by my apartment. I told Marina about going out tonight with the rest of the guys, and she pretty much forced me to change.”
“This Marina—is she your publicist or something?”
“She might as well be.” Alyssa laughs again. “She’s my best friend from back home. She joined me when I first came to L.A. to sign with the label. And when I realized that I was going to be staying for a while, she decided that she was going to stay with me, too.”
“I suppose that’s nice of her,” I reply.
“Oh, it’s not about being nice.” Alyssa grins. “Marina has plans of her own, trust me. With the way she’s been hitting the town for work, I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s up for an Oscar by next year. Seriously, I invited her out tonight and she told me she was too busy working on a self-tape for some new sitcom.”
“What a shame,” I lie, perfectly pleased that no boyfriend has been referred to as of yet, and the aforementioned friend now has a female name.
Alyssa then pauses for a moment as she scans the bar. When she’s finished, she looks back over at me, a disappointment written all over her face. “…The rest of the band aren’t coming, are they?”