Liam nods, looking guilty. “You’re right. Reece, I’m sorry if we made you feel like you’re not entitled to the song. It’s yours. We’re the ones in the wrong here.” He glances at Garrett. “Some of us may need more time to realize it than others.”
“I like you,” Iggy says.
Garrett shoots daggers at Iggy. “Can we get on with this shit?”
“How’s this going to work?” I ask.
Crew guides me to one of the mics. “As discussed, you’ll be lead singer for ‘Swerve.’ Bria will play keyboards. Liam will be on lead guitar with me on backup. Bria, Garrett, and I will sing background vocals.”
I’m surprised to hear that Garrett sings. He wouldn’t do it with me back then, claiming his voice was too raspy. I thought that made it sexy. I think of all the Reckless Alibi songs I’ve listened to and wonder which ones Garrett sings on.
“The melody may not be what you imagined when you wrote the lyrics,” Crew says, “but hopefully you’ve practiced it our way.”
“Once or twice,” I lie. I think I’ve sung it a hundred times since yesterday, trying to capture every one of Bria’s inflections. Every nuance in her voice. I don’t want to give them anything to complain about.
“Let’s get started then.”
I gulp a mouthful of water, hand the bottle to Maddox, and position myself at the mic so I can’t see Garrett. I’m not sure I can do this while looking at him. The song is about us. Us. Oh God—it’s about us. So why, after six years, would he suddenly think it’s okay to use the lyrics?
I try not to think too hard about it. I close my eyes and let out a long breath as Liam plays the guitar. Then I hear the drums and freeze. The music stops.
“You missed your cue,” Bria says. “Do you want me to sing it with you the first time?”
I am a colossal loser. “I can do it. Sorry. I’m nervous.”
“It’s okay,” she says. “We have plenty of time.”
“We have five weeks,” Garrett says. “She’s only here Friday afternoons. That’s not plenty of time. She needs to do it right now.”
“Shut up, G,” Liam says. “Give her a minute before throwing her under the bus, why don’t you?” He turns to me. “Ready to go again?”
I look to Maddox for reassurance. He nods and smiles. I wonder if bringing him was a mistake. Maybe everyone will think I need someone to protect me. I don’t want them thinking that. Especially Garrett. I know he thinks I’m still the helpless eighteen-year-old I used to be. “Yeah. Let’s do it.”
The music starts. I make my cue, but my voice cracks on the second verse. I cringe when Garrett stops playing.
“I fucking told you so,” he says to the others.
I turn, angry. “You arrogant asshole. Can you for two seconds stop to think what it’s like to be me right now? I’ve been thrown to the wolves here. So my voice cracked. I’m an imperfect person. I’m nervous, you narcissistic neanderthal. If you give me a minute to get acclimated, I’m sure you’ll find I’m goddamn amazing.” I turn away. “Start again.”
Bria stares at me. She’s smiling.
The music starts. I clear my head. These are my lyrics. I wrote them, and I’m damn well going to sing them. I belt them out, clearly and confidently, not missing a single word, inflection, or cue. I sing like I own the damn room, like nothing in the world can take them from me. Like Garrett Young didn’t break me in so many ways.
After the song ends, there is dead silence. “Holy shit,” Crew finally says.
Bria is still smiling. “Uh, Reece? Please don’t steal my job.”
Maddox looks like the proud best friend, still perched on the stool in the corner.
Liam nods approval and then turns to Garrett. “Any more questions?”
Chapter Nine
Garrett
After she picks her jaw up off the floor, Bria asks Reece to play another one of her songs.
“I didn’t bring my guitar,” she says. Liam holds out his. She eyes it like it’s a newborn baby. “You don’t mind?”
“Got two others just like it.”
She snickers and takes it from him. “Of course. Thank you.”
She sits on a stool, strumming for a second before she breaks into song. I’ve heard her play. She was good then, but now … I don’t want to listen. Maybe because I don’t want to admit how incredibly talented she is.
Everyone looks at me like I’ve been keeping the secret of the century. “What?”
“Dude.” Crew pulls me aside. “You never said you knew the next Ariana Grande.”
“She’s not.”
“Then you and I just heard completely different songs.”
“That was fantastic,” Bria says. “Even without a band to back you up.”
“Speaking of bands,” Liam says. “Have you found one yet?”
Reece raises a snarky brow. “You mean since yesterday?”
Jeremy enters the room and stares at Reece in awe. He was obviously listening from the booth. “I’ll help you find one.”
All eyes turn to him. “You jumping ship?” Crew jokes.
Jeremy laughs. “No, but when I see someone with this much potential, I feel it would be a waste not to help her succeed.”
I flash Jeremy a traitorous look. Liam shakes his head at me.
“Maybe she could use the IRL house band,” Bria says.
I press my lips into a thin line. “She’s not using them.”
“Why not? It would make things easier,” she says.
“That’s not a bad idea,” Jeremy says. “They’re good, but what we’re really showcasing is Reece’s talent.”
I throw my sticks on the snare. “We’re letting her sing the song, giving her three nights as our opening act, allowing her to ride with us, and now you want to provide the fucking band, too?”
“You’re letting me sing?” she snaps. “I’d say it’s more like I’m allowing Reckless Alibi to play my song. I could have made you pull it, you know. The other stuff is in lieu of compensation.”
Liam steps between us. “We went over this yesterday. No need to rehash it. We all agreed to the deal. I’d say you two need to work on getting along.”
I laugh. “In your fucking dreams.”
“G, you’re so goddamned tight-lipped, nobody here knows what happened between the two of you, and I don’t care. Reece is going on tour with us, so you’d better figure out a way not to be at each other’s throats the entire time.”
“Maybe hire the goddamn house drummer to take my place,” I say like a petulant preschooler on my way out the door.
Jeremy follows me. “Garrett.”
I hold up my hand. “I don’t want to talk. I’m leaving. It’s almost quitting time anyway.”
“It’s three o’clock.”
“Close enough.”
“We’ll talk about this Monday!” he yells after me.
Out front, I lean against the building. Ronni is outside smoking. I motion to her pack. “Can I have one?”