Page 24 of Vengeful Melodies

Okay. I definitely am.

Wren wanders out from behind the counter in joggers and a too-tight shirt with a yawning stretch. He stops mid-step, takes one look at Bash, and deadpans, “Tell me this isn’t the bassist who likes to fucks with security systems for fun.”

“Allegedly,” Bash says, like it’s a badge of honor.

Grey shrugs. “When he was bored. And drunk.”

“Still got in every time,” Bash adds, looking smug as hell.

Wren coughs into his mug, hiding his laughter. My cheeks flame.

“I—uh—sorry you’re seeing me like this.” I take the coffee from Wren just to have something to do with my hands. “Had I knownmy future boss was stopping by, I might’ve tried not to look like a raccoon emerging from a laundry basket.”

Bash chuckles, low and warm. “Raccoon? Nah. You’ve got more of a... dangerous fairy energy. The kind that lures men to their doom.”

“Sounds dramatic.”

“I’m in a rock band. Dramatic is kind of my thing.”

Despite myself, I smile—and for the first time in days, it doesn’t feel forced.

I slide onto the stool as Bash pulls out a folder with my name printed on the front. A black pen rests neatly on top.

Dozens of papers wait inside, each one a building block to a life I never saw coming. I read slowly, carefully, signing each page before moving on.

The last one makes me pause.

“Would you feel comfortable staying on the main tour bus with the band in a private bedroom?”

My finger traces the line.

Bash’s flirt drops for a moment, replaced with sincerity. “We’ve got an all-male staff, except for two older women who’ve been with us since the start. They travel in a separate van. This setup gives you your own space on the main bus—so you’re not stuck in a bunk or sharing tight quarters. If it helps, Wren can stay with you. Right now, he’s bunking with Grey.”

I shake my head. “No, I’m good. I appreciate the offer, though. Honestly, it means a lot… makes me feel like maybe I’m not totally insane for saying yes to this job.”

A real smile touches his lips. “We’re glad you did.”

I sign the final page and hand it back.

“Excited for the show tonight?” he asks, slipping the folder into a sleek black briefcase beside Wren’s. “Grey said you won the VIP giveaway? Seems like fate, yeah?”

“Would I ruin everything if I admitted it’s my first time hearing your music?” I wince. “I won the tickets for someone else. But… plans changed.”

Bash lets out a soft laugh. “Then I’m extra glad you’re still coming. You’ll get the full experience—front row, center. No better way to fall in love.”

“With the music,” Grey cuts in, bumping Bash with a smirk.

“Right,” I say, cheeks flushing. “The music.”

“It was great meeting you, Dreya.” Bash gives me a small nod, the heat in his gaze turning serious for just a second. “I’ll see you tonight.”

His blue eyes hold mine for a beat too long, and I forget how to breathe.

“You too. Break a leg.”

Regret. Immediate regret.

But he just grins, and that makes it worse.