Page 5 of Killer Notes
“What do you think?” One sharp brow hiked high on our manager’s face says everything.
I slump further in my chair, pressed my lips closed, and taste raspberry on the tip of my tongue. The idea of not having the time alone that I need to decompress is depressing. Not to mention it will hinder my ability to write songs. This is all too much. But I have no choice in the matter and need to roll with whatever these next several months bring.
“Now that you know what I know, you have an hour before we head to the studio,” Ron says. He gets up and puts a hand on my shoulder. “Go chill in you room for bit. It’s going to be a long day.”
Ron releases me and crooks his finger at his assistant to follow him.
As I head to the bedroom I’ve been using, Connor wraps an arm around me and lays his chin on my shoulder. “Maybe the bodyguard will understand and give you the privacy you need. Don’t worry, Danny,” he whispers.
“Maybe, but I doubt it.” I shrug him off. “I need to meditate.”
“You do you, boo. I’m hungry,” Connor says.
“Is that what you’re calling it now?” I say over my shoulder.
My best friend flips me the bird and strolls to the kitchen.
Since staying with Ron in his spacious condo near Nob Hill, I’ve slowly come to terms with our music career and the chaos that comes along in this business. Writing songs is easy for me, and I’m ready to record our first album. Dealing with people, that’s a whole other matter I’m still figuring out.
I flop into the Barclay chair and a half next to the window. The picturesque view of San Francisco and the bay is one I will truly miss once we’re finished recording.
Sucking in a calming breath, I attempt to clear my head of the notes, Laney’s attack, and the bodyguard that’ll stick to me like glue.
Clear your head. Focus.
I blow out a breath and think about Rocktoberfest, the most iconic of music festivals. We might not be playing Saturday—the main night, but Friday still kicks ass. Especially playing on the same stages as Embrace the Fear, Social Sinners, and Maiden Voyage—three major heavy metal bands in the rock world.
It’s all too dreamlike.
Then I imagine seeing Warrior Black’s logo on the festival graphics, alongside logos from some of the biggest rock bands ever.
Life as a rock singer just got a whole lot more attainable. But those notes…
It’s like dropping a thousand pound sand bag on my head, and all the tension is back in my body. I’m strung tight and no amount of meditating will ease this burden.
A knock at the door pulls my attention. “Come in.”
“Can we talk?” Connor pops his head in, a weak smile on his face.
“Sure,” I say, before turning my attention back out the window.
“I’m sorry if you’re upset about the extra security. But I’m sure if you explain, the bodyguard will understand,” Connor says, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. “If it makes you feel better, I won’t jack off until after Rocktoberfest is over.”
“Jesus, Con.” I drop my head, attempting to not take his bait. But laughter bubbles out of me in uncontrolled fits. “This situation isn’t funny.”
“Then why are you laughing?” He looks so serious. How does he do that?
“Because of your ugly mug.”
“I know, but at least I got you to laugh.” Connor winks. “Seriously though, this is a solid plan. Between the cops looking into Laney’s attack, and the private security person covering your ass, no asshole will reach you. And I bet, once the festival is over and the album goes live, our days will go back to our normal crazy life. I even bet your stalker will get bored and find some other idiot to stalk.”
“Dick.” I lunge to punch him, but he bolts out of my reach.
“I love you, so stop being a diva over this.” He then takes off out of the room, but not before he hollers out, “We’re leaving in fifteen.”
As much as Connor might be right, I still can’t wrap around the fact that someone is out there stalking me. Worse yet, they proved they would go to any lengths to hurt people, just to get my attention.
Is all this worth being out in the public, for the world to see me and my friends? I don’t know.