Page 16 of Burn Bright

“Alfie Bugsby,” I repeat. “Isn’t that your new drummer? The one that your label put in your band?”

“That’s the one.” Tom physically winces at his phone. “He’s seriously trying to rewrite three of my songs. After he already changed the tempo to our EPlive. Fuckinglive, Ben. On stage at Tangerine. He screwed the entire show. At this rate, we’ll never release our first album.”

“Let’s not doom The Carraways,” Eliot says.

“My bandisdoomed. The second I didn’t choose Phoenix as my drummer because I was worried he was too hot and he’d distract me—it was doomed.” Tom gives me a distraught look. “You don’t listen to them, do you? The band that Phoenix plays drums in?”

“Nothing Personal?” I ask.

“He knows the name of the band,” Tom says to Eliot.

“He knows the name,” Eliot echoes like this isn’t good.

I almost laugh. “You vent about them at every Wednesday Night Dinner,” I remind Tom.

“Never by name.”

“Their rock single is also all over the radio.”

“When did youstart listening to the radio?” he interrogates, like this has to be some elaborate ploy to cause him distress.

I lift my shoulders. “I listen to a lot of things, including your music. Which I love.” This barely edges him away from a cliff. The Carraways’ EP is cycled in my repeat plays all the time. It’s just more emo-punk like My Chemical Romance and not as mainstream as Nothing Personal.

“Radio is banned,” Eliot announces. “No one’s allowed to turn it on until the band that shall not be named breaks up.”

Tom nods repeatedly like this is a great idea. Albeit dramatic, butgreat.It’s nuts. My family is certifiablynuts.I smile a little more. Until he says to me, “You don’t have their songs saved in your playlists, right?”

Uh, yeah.

I do.

I like all kinds of rock music, and Spotify has recommended their songs to me about a billion times. I’ve known Tom has a feud with the band, but I didn’t think he’d ever see my playlists or grill me on it.

I could lie.

I have the abilitytolie and do it pretty well. Evidence: I’ve lied to my therapist before, and he never noticed. Though I’m definitely not the best liar out of my siblings. Being cunning and skilled enough to deceive receives applause among Cobalts. It’s a positive attribute.

But I don’t love lying, especially to them.

Which is why skirting around the truth of my empty bank account is going to be impossiblyfuckinghard.

I thumb at my cheek where I have a beauty mark. “So I might’ve saved a couple of their songs?—”

Tom groans before I even finish and flops backward on the bed. “Fuuuuck me, dude.”

“So incestuous of you,” Eliot banters.

“Shut up,” Tom moans into his palms. “Ben Pirrip, you’re giving them listens, numbers,hits.”

Eliot tilts his head to me. “Don’t listen to the enemy’s music. Solidarity, baby brother.”

“I’ll delete it.” I pull out my phone and easily remove all traces of Nothing Personal. I’m just reminded of how much Tom and Eliot eat, breathe, and shitloyalty. It runs through all our veins to certain degrees, and theirs is to the extreme.

I tense when I shove my phone back in my pocket.

Tom has very bad history with Harriet Fisher. If he knew I’m meeting up with her for a job interview…yeah, this isn’t going to end well. But no one gets anywhere being careful.

So I can delete a song I like for Tom. But I can’t delete a person. Which means I suck at the whole loyalty thing.