Page 5 of Hard Rock Desires

“What do you think about switching the last two songs?” the keyboardist asked. “I think it’d be the best number to leave the fans on a high note, right?”

“We decided on the song order weeks ago,” I told him.

“I know, but I was thinking about it and—”

“Why didn’t you bring this up earlier?” I interrupted. “This is pretty fucking last minute.”

Micah looked taken aback. Chris watched the two of us, his smile wavering.

“I only started thinking about it this morning,” Micah said. “There wasn’t time to tell you guys while you were all at the house getting ready.”

“Too bad you moved out, because then that wouldn’t have been a problem, now would it?”

Micah’s eyes widened.

Fuck. I hadn’t meant to say that out loud.

“We can switch the songs,” I muttered, running a hand through my hair. I grimaced as I felt the sweat-dampened strands. “As long as the others are on board, it’s fine.”

“Are you sure it’s fine?” Micah asked carefully.

“Yeah,” I said. “I’m going to go look for Anya.”

Micah nodded, eyeing me silently. I turned around on my heel, trying to stomp down on the irritated feeling in my gut.

It was shitty of me to be pissed off at Micah. I knew that. It was even shittier of me to take out those pissed off feelings on him. He had every right to get his own place.

So what if the group of us had lived together since our early indie days, sharing a cramped two-bedroom apartment? So what if we’d purposely spent our first paychecks after being signed on a huge-ass mansion with a built-in practice studio so we could all continue living together?

So what if we’d always had each other to rely on? So what if we’d promised to always be there for each other? So what if Micah decided he didn’t need us anymore and moved out with no warning, abandoning us the same way everyone else always—

I growled and forced my fists to unball, cutting off those thoughts.

Goddamn, but it was hot in here. My mouth felt as dry as a desert while the rest of me felt like I’d been in a sauna.

Air. I needed fresh air.

I looked around for an exit. There, a bright glowing red sign.

I threw the door open with relief, a rush of evening wind hitting my face. I stepped out and exhaled slowly, finding myself in a dark alleyway. The anger churning in my stomach eased a bit. I wedged a rock against the doorjamb before letting the door swing almost shut behind me. I didn’t want to get locked out.

I stared up at the sky. I could barely make out the stars because of the city lights, but the moon was a bright white crescent shape.

Whatever. It was fine. Micah was the oldest. The mature one. Of course he wouldn’t want to keep living together the way we used to, like a bunch of broke-ass kids eating ramen noodles so we could afford a practice space. We were rich as fuck now. Even though we practically had a whole wing each to ourselves, there was no reason to keep living together in that mansion.

My jaw ached from clenching so hard.

No reason except that we were supposed to befamily.

Maybe that didn’t mean as much to Micah as it did to me. Maybe he didn’t care about the band as much as the rest of us. Maybe him moving out was just the first step. Maybe he was getting ready to leave the band for good—

A clamoring sound at the entrance to the alley made me turn my head. A small figure was stumbling around the corner. It was a girl, I could tell that much. She pressed her forehead to the brick wall, looking like she was going to throw up. The smell of booze wafted from her.

Was she drunk? Sick? Shit, I couldn’t just leave the poor girl alone in an alley if she was going to black out.

I took a few steps toward her.

“Hey,” I asked. “You okay?”