Page 2 of Never To Suffer (The Hollywoodland #4)

AWAKE NOW

MR BELLA

The familiar vibration of Connor warming up his drum kit greets me and rattles the flimsy door of the studio.

I’m not sure it should even be called a studio, since it’s a rented storage unit full of junk from Connor’s family.

His mom has a hoarding problem, and instead of getting her help, his dad moves everything out here every few years so she can start her collection all over again.

The stacks of newspapers provide stellar sound absorption, but the black trash bags of random crap should get tested for—well—everything.

The door screams when I push it open, and Connor swears about the light and how it burns him.

Noah’s in her usual spot in the corner on an old couch, notebook out and head buried.

She uses this time to get the creative brain flowing, writing poems for her blog or doodling.

Across the room and as far from everyone as she can get, Rory blocks out the world with her headphones and face buried in her phone.

We’re not a well-oiled machine; we don't even qualify as functioning co-workers. A fix for that sits at the top of the list of hurdles we need to clear now that we’ve gotten our welcome email for the competition.

“Sup, jerks!” I announce myself as if the loud, creaky doorway wasn’t enough. “All in favor of looking for better working conditions and winning this contest, say aye!”

“Dude, we can’t afford that shit. Also, your apartment has more mice than this place does. Glass houses and throwing rocks or whatever it is,” Connor teases, giving himself a rim shot before he adds, “and my unit is free!”

“Eww, don’t talk about your unit!” I tease back.

“Why, cause I’m the only one in here who has one?”

“That’s unconfirmed and will remain that way,” Noah chimes in, tucking her notebook into her backpack and hanging it on off the giant roll-up door. “So, what’s the plan, oh fearless leader of the freak show? How are we getting our asses to Portland?”

The plan doesn’t exist, but I can’t tell them that.

I can’t shoot us in the foot before we’ve even taken a full step toward this.

In place of sleep last night, I paced and did internet searches I’m not proud of, trying to figure out how we’re going to do this contest and survive.

Both in terms of the stress and the cost. When Xander came home around two in the morning, he forced me to drink some tea while he gave me a foot massage and assured me we would make this work and handed me a couple hundred dollars toward Portland.

He said it came from a last-minute freelance gig, which I don’t bother to ask him about.

Anytime I do, he shuts me out, so there’s something he doesn’t want to share about it.

It doesn’t require an office or consistent hours, so I’ve been envisioning him building websites for the mob.

Yo, you wanna knock some guy off? We’ll knock some guy off. Check out our website, knocksomeguyoff dot com.

“I ran the numbers and did some research on the area?—”

“You?” Rory scoffs. “I wasn’t aware you could even add, let alone create a budget, research costs, and—” She only stops because we’re all staring at her.

“Thank you, Connor, is what she means to say, since she didn’t exactly volunteer any of her free time to help.

” I glare at Rory, who rolls her eyes. She loves to bring all the negativity to the function.

“We’ve already been accepted, so no need to fork out cash for demo reels or new material, so that’s, you know, good?

But I did send the marketing photos and some other shit. ”

“LA Proper takes Portland by storm! Where are we playing, anyhow?”

“Well,” Connor says as he sends the group chat photos of the venue, a map, and other details.

I’m pretty impressed by everything he did while I spent my time pacing myself into an early grave.

“They’re bringing in a ton of bands, and setting up two to three stages, and here’s the location they picked.

I mean, it’s, you know, kinda cool. Right? ”

Noah flips through the photos and snorts a laugh before staring at Connor to gauge how serious he is. “A warehouse?”

“Two warehouses! One stage and two bars each, with an outdoor stage setup for night shows. It’s gonna be so fire.”

“Bro, doesn’t it, like, always rain in Portland or something?” Noah asks, looking between Connor and me. She’s met with blank stares since neither of us have ever been to Portland to answer that. “Fuck it! I’ll play in a damn tornado for a shot at this.”

“When will we know the lineup or stage?” Rory asks. “Like, play one set and out or how much time are we talking?”

“They’re supposed to email us a loose itinerary in the next day or two.” I set up my computer and squat down to map out the motels Connor pinned, but a ding and a notification window pull my attention elsewhere. I’ve got a new email. It’s from NotOkay Records.

“Okay, so wait, are we taking the van or?—”

“Shut up!” I yell, pointing at my screen. “They’ve emailed us!”

“Who? Wait, NotOkay Records? Oh fuck, that was fast.” Noah scrambles off her chair and runs over.

“Is that good or bad?” Marco asks as he moves closer. “Come on, open it!”

My finger hovers over the touch pad for a moment, then drops with two quick taps.

CONGRATULATIONS!

Yo, LA Proper !

Is this your lucky day, or what? You’re now part of the show and the first ever Sink The Rich (subject to change) tour!

Below, you’ll find a list of tour dates, venues, and information (all subject to change, so make sure you sign up for our…)

“ Sink the rich? ” Rory asks from somewhere behind me.

Connor laughs at points at the anthropomorphized punk rock orca jumping onto a yacht. “That’s so fire! What does it mean?”

“How are we almost the same age and yet sometimes I feel like I don’t understand anything you’re saying?” I ask, and he shrugs.

“Only child?”

“Oy. Okay, remember the orcas that were sinking all those fucking yachts a while back?” Noah snickers as she explains it to him as if he were five. “And how the yacht rock bros all think they’re so punk and alternative. It would have been funny like four years ago.”

“My dad listens to yacht rock,” Connor adds, shoulders slumping for a moment before he laughs again. “I’m gonna buy him a shirt with the logo on it. He’d get the humor.”

“They’ll change the name if it gets big enough.

Something even more lame, like ALTour or some shit.

” I’ve been hanging around too many marketing and design firm people.

I skim the rest of the email and look up at everyone hovered over me.

“Guys, they want us to do three sets for the first event. Three! Are we gonna get anything played today, or should I call and tell Megan we’ve reconvened at the office? ”

“OFFICE!” Connor and Noah shout together, while Rory groans and heads to the corner with her bass. She grabs her phone and starts rapid fire texting someone, but shoves it in her pocket when I’m a few steps away.

“See you there?” I ask and offer a smile and a wave. She only grunts back.

“Hey, I uhm, I know you’re not thrilled about canceling rehearsals and all.

I get that. But right now, hammering out logistics might be wiser, and you’re better at that than Noah and I.

” If I stop and imagine what it’s like talking to an active volcano, I’d picture Rory as the volcano.

I’m never sure if it’s going to blow up in my face or gurgle at me to remind me I’m insignificant.

“Look, dumb question, but, uhm, you and Megan?—”

“What about it?”

“What? Oh, I mean, I don’t…How did the interview go? She worked at the bar last night, so I didn’t get to see her.”

“It went fine. I’ll see you at the bar,” she snaps, grabbing her gear and marching through the door.

“Okay. Cool. Cooooool,” I mumble, following Connor and Noah out.

“What was that all about?” Noah asked, nodding toward Rory as she closed the trunk and climbed into her fancy sports car.

“Not sure, but Megan interviewed with her the other day and didn’t come home.”

“Duuude,” Connor’s eyes go wide. “Do you think Rory murderated her? Sucked her blood out and dropped her in a dumpster?!”

Noah slaps him in the back of the head and tells him to get in the car while I keep an unreadable face. They don’t need to know I imagined that scenario last night. Rory would make a terrible vampire, though. Because an accountant by day and vampire by night? Lame.

The local dive bar. Or our office, as we like to call it.

The place reeks of stale beer, my shoes stick to the floor, and the pool tables haven’t seen better days since at least twenty years ago.

But, the bartenders know us, don’t water down the drinks when we’re broke, and never kick us out when we take over a table for a few hours to talk business.

In fact, the second we walk in we’re greeted by Bobby, a giant of a man that makes my gym bunny bestie, Steve, look like a sick puppy.

“LA PROPER!” His deep voice fills the room, drawing the letters out for emphasis and turning the few heads hiding in the dark corners.

“Hey, did y’all see the competition shit going on?

Some little fucker came in yesterday and wanted to put flyers up.

I told him not to bother. LA Proper was gonna win the whole fuckin’ thing. ”

“Aww, this is why we love you, Bobby!” I jump up and give him a hug.

“Drinks all around!” Connor announces as he raises his arms. Bobby gives him a look and Connor clears his throat. “Well, around the table we’ll be sitting at.”

“You got it. Bucket o’ brews, coming your way.”

“Where’d Rory go?” Connor asks an hour later when Bobby comes by, drops the third bucket of ice and bottles in front of us, and retreats to his corner of the bar to watch baseball. He’s great at keeping the table stocked but not interrupting the process—or missing a pitch.

“I dunno, she dipped like ten minutes ago,” Noah answers. She looks around the room and shrugs.

“Maybe she went to find Megan. Didn’t you say she’d be here in like twenty minutes?” I check my phone but find no messages. “Well, whatever. We have a plan even without their help. Connor, you’re on transportation and lodging.”

“10-4, Captain.”

“Noah, you're keeping the socials active and keeping up with updates from NotOkay Records. And I’ll work on getting some new merch designs and printing. Rory can do what she always does, let us handle everything and throw money at it when we complain she’s not pulling her weight.

” Relief washes over me, my need to over-plan and my anxiety finally taking a step back to let me breathe.

I stop and look around the table at my friends, my bandmates, the people who are on this wild ride with me. “We’re fucking doing this!”

Noah snaps a few photos of us around the table, even getting Bobby and the bar’s logo in a few because we can’t forget where we came from when we’re famous.

She’s looking forward to documenting the whole crazy experience, and I can’t blame her.

This contest, this day, they’ll change all our lives so much.

Win or lose. Except we can’t fucking lose.

After I finish my beer, I head for the bathrooms, texting Xander with an update and asking if Megan has come home instead of heading to the bar.

Before I reach out to push the door to the restroom, it flies open and I’m staring at Rory, who’s tucking her shirt in as she holds the door open for none other than my fucking girlfriend, who’s straightening out her skirt.

“The. Fuck?”

“Wait! I can explain!” Megan spits out as she holds her hands out.

“Oh, I fucking doubt that. Go back to the table and fucking wait, because I gotta pee before I rage. Excuse me.”

I push past them both and into the room, giving them a little shoo gesture as they both stare at me, eyes wide and faces paler than normal.

Once they leave, I lock the door and press my back to it, too much going through my mind all at once.

I wanted to break up with her, but this isn’t how I wanted to do it.

I take a few deep breaths, do my business, and think about splashing water on my face, but fuck that.

I won’t ruin a perfect makeup day over those two jerks.

Connor and Noah keep exchanging looks as I walk up to the table.

Bobby gawks at Rory and Megan as they make out.

I clear my throat loud enough to break them up and slam my phone down on the table, making them both jump.

I’m sure I’m supposed to be the bigger person in this situation, but I’d rather stab them both with those little toothpicks fancy bars put olives on.

Who am I kidding? This bar doesn’t even have toothpicks. Or olives.

“Given the circumstances that have come to light in the last few minutes?—”

“Fuck, are we canceling the concert?” Connor asks.

“Nope. Rory, you’re fucking fired. Connor and Noah, we’ll start rehearsing bassists as soon as we can.”

“Wait, what?” Rory screams as she pushes Megan off her lap. “You can fuck Xander but you’re firing me for kissing Megan? You don’t own her, you know.”

“Yeah, no shit. Megan, you have a week to be out of the apartment. If you had only talked to us, this could have ended much cleaner.” I grab my things and glare at Rory.

“And Rory, I can fuck Xander because we’re in a relationship, which included Megan.

Cheating is not how a polycule works. Look it the fuck up. ”

“This isn’t fair!” Megan yells.

“You’re right, Meg. I should have dropped your ass the minute you tried to pull me away from Xander. I’d never leave him for you. He eats pussy better than you do.”

Megan lunges, but Connor steps between us, curling his arm around me. “We’ll walk you out,” Connor offers, Noah nodding beside him.

We get out to the parking lot and I’m a raging mess. Sure, I planned to break up with her anyhow, but I wanted to do it my way, not finding them fucking around in the bathroom.

“Do you think we can find a bassist in time?” Connor asks, his jovial tone extinguished.

“If we don’t, we get knocked out the first week. We’ve already paid the entry fee. Why not go for it, right?” I struggle to keep a positive demeanor while I’m falling apart inside.