Right. Good point. It would be worse forgetting a line in front of these guys than having to look at the words in front of me.
“Thanks,” I said, as Killian moved to my left and strapped on his bass guitar.
“‘Crossroads,’” he called out to us. I glanced down to make sure that was the lyric page on top as Slade counted us down to the intro. When he launched into a heavy beat, a thrill shot through me, goosebumps popping up all over my skin. If I’d thought yesterday’s audition had been surreal, it had nothing on what was happening at that moment, when the others began to play. Their sounds blended together so perfectly that for a moment, I was frozen in awe, completely blanking out on the fact that I had a role to play.
Killian held his hand up when I missed my cue and the music stopped. Then he raised an eyebrow at me. “Everything okay?”
“Shit, sorry,” I said, but I was unable to stop the huge grin from taking over my face. “That was just so fucking cool. You’re just”—damn mind-blowing—“amazing.” I tried to tamp down my excitement and glanced over my shoulder at the other guys. “Sorry. Can we do that again?”
Behind me, Killian chuckled, and then Slade counted down and kicked off the song again.
This time, I was ready even as I tried to take in every second of what was happening. I shook out my arms as the music swelled, and then I grabbed the mic and began to sing.
It was fucking magic.
I’d been in a couple of bands before, but holy shit. The way it all came together when you had musicians at the top of their game was leaps and bounds over anything I’d experienced before. And though my voice was naturally a bit deeper than Trent’s, I still matched him note for note.
The first song went off without a hitch, and they went straight into the next song off the album. Never one to stand still for long, I ripped the mic off the stand and prowled the room, getting a feel for my surroundings and my place in this band. As I faced them again, all four guys playing masterfully, I could barely believe this was my life. Would be my life for years to come, because after having this taste of what being part of TBD was like, there was no way I was giving it up. And since this was another test to see how I fit in, I wasn’t going to dick around.
Part of any successful band was stage presence. It didn’t matter how good you sounded on an album. If you sucked ass in front of thousands, if you didn’t give the crowd something to watch, then they wouldn’t stick around for the next tour. So with that thought in mind, I sauntered over to Viper, and when he saw me coming for him, his dark eyes flared.
Not missing a note, he stared back as I moved closer, his wickedly fast fingers flying up and down the neck of his Fender Telecaster. There was a reason he was known as one of the greatest living guitar players—dude was a legend. And, according to Imogen, every person on the planet thought he was “bad-boy gorgeous” or whatever, which, now that I was face to face with the guy, I supposed could be true. With a penetrating gaze and stubble along his strong jaw and lining his smug mouth, I could see the appeal.
Wait, what? Uh, no. I could see the appeal for my sister or anyone else. Not for me. I wasn’t checking out another guy’s lips. I was just focused on winning over the one person I knew could potentially stand in my way of making this situation permanent.
Eight
Viper
UNFUCKINGBELIEVABLE. AFTER YEARS on tour with Trent as our frontman, and being surrounded by some of the most talented musicians in the world, not much shocked me these days. Rarely was I rendered mute by someone’s ability to hold a stadium captive, and I was even less impressed by someone trying to sing the words I’d poured my heart and fucking soul into.
But from the moment Halo opened his mouth and sang his way through the first song to right now, he’d held my attention in a way that I knew was going to be a big goddamn problem.
As I played the intro to the second song off Daybreak, a simple six-note arpeggio I repeated and modulated with the pedal by my foot, Halo pulled the mic off the stand and turned in my direction.
With those light eyes of his, he sized me up as though trying to decide whether he should stay where he was or come closer, and when the rest of the band joined in and the beat began to really throb, it seemed to act as the shove he needed.