“Oh, trust me, Savage is perfectly capable of doing that. That boy is many, many things, but punctual certainly isn’t one of them. It’s really annoying, so brace yourself.”
“If you’re constantly annoyed by his lateness, why don’t you ever slap the shit out of him for it? You’re not the opener.”
“Meh. We pick our battles with him. In the end, it’s hard to say which parts of Savage’s personality contribute to his mad genius. So, we let him be, in case messing with the shitty stuff will mess with the amazing stuff. We all benefit from Savage being happy and carefree and left alone. That’s when he’s at his best.”
“So, you think if you slap the shit out of him, you might slap some of his genius out of him?”
“Exactly.”
I smile and nod. But I’m not sure I could hold my tongue like that with a bandmate. Aloha is a genius in her own right, too. An icon in the music industry. But during my tour with her, she never kept anyone waiting. In fact, she was usually early for everything. I remember Aloha telling me, early on, “We’re the lucky ones who get to go onstage and experience all the adulation and praise, but never forget it takes a village of crew and staff and musicians to make a tour happen for the thousands of fans who pay their hard-earned money to watch you perform. So, in the end, even if it feels sometimes like it’s all about you, never forget you’re there to create happiness for your fans and hundreds of jobs for your crew and staff. Make art when you make your album, Laila. Make happiness for the fans and money for the machine when you’re on tour.”
I distinctly remember Aloha’s words blowing me away. They were a revelation to me. A whole new way of looking at things. And to this day, I’ve kept them close to my heart at all times. Has nobody ever sat down Adrian Savage to give him a similar speech? Obviously not, based on what Ruby said a moment ago. And that’s a shame. I bet Savage would benefit from hearing Aloha’s thoughts on the importance of humility and professionalism in our industry.
About twenty minutes after the plane takes off, as drinks and food are served, Ruby and I settle into an easy, interesting conversation.
“Is it weird being the only girl in your band?” I ask.
“Nah,” Ruby replies. “You know Titus is my twin brother, right? So, being in a band with him feels totally natural to me. And then, with Kai and Kendrick being brothers, they feel like a single unit, too. So, I don’t really feel outnumbered there. And then there’s Savage, who feels like an extension of Kai and Kendrick, because he grew up with them. So, I guess I don’t often feel like one girl in a band with four boys. I feel more like part of a duo that’s merged with a trio.” She makes a cute face. “Does that make sense?”
“It makes perfect sense. Does Savage have any siblings?”
“No, he’s an only child.” She snorts. “Which, trust me, will make perfect sense to you once you get to know him. If you get to know him. He’s a tough nut to crack.”
I bite my lip. I haven’t exchanged a single word with the man and I already knew that. Which, unfortunately, is only making him more intriguing to me. Savage is a tough nut to crack? Well, guess what? I just so happen to consider myself an expert at busting balls and cracking nuts.
“Hey, ladies.” It’s Kendrick. With a huge, handsome grin on his face, he plops himself down across the aisle from Ruby.
I take in his surfer-boy handsomeness, his wavy blonde hair and bright eyes, and, immediately, I’m filled with warmth and happiness at the sight of him. It’s the same way I felt when I met Kendrick weeks ago at Reed’s party. Warm and safe. The same way I felt when we exchanged texts these past few weeks, regarding the progress on my album.
“I hope you don’t mind me hanging out here with you ladies,” Kendrick says. “Kai’s already annoying the fuck out of me.”
“We’re happy to have you,” I say.
“Speak for yourself,” Ruby says. But it’s clear she’s joking.
“So, Miss Fitzgerald,” Kendrick says. “Congrats on the release of your album last night.”
“Thank you. Phew! It was a tall order, but we did it.”
“I’ve already listened to it twice and it’s a-maaaazing.”
I’m floored. “You bought it? You didn’t need to do that! I have it on my laptop.”
“Of course, I bought it. And then, I stayed up late listening to it, twice. And I can honestly say it’s a masterpiece. I loved your first album, but this one is next level.”
Squealing happily, I get up from my seat and give Kendrick’s neck a little hug, making him chuckle. “That means so much to me, coming from you,” I say. “Thank you.”
He talks into my shoulder. “I’ll be shocked if you don’t win a bucketful of awards this time. Not just nominations, but wins.”
Flushed and smiling, I return to my seat, where I proceed to talk excitedly with Kendrick for the next twenty minutes about the album. And, quickly, it’s clear Kendrick is anything but a bullshitter. Based on his questions and comments, it’s obvious he really did listen to my musical baby twice—and genuinely believes every word of praise he’s giving me. As the conversation progresses, however, I begin to realize something I hadn’t understood before. Specifically, that I think Kendrick is . . . into me. Like, totally flirting with me. And not just being welcoming and friendly. Shit.
The thought is flattering to me, of course. Kendrick is a beautiful, talented, lovely person. Truly, he’s as sweet as can be. But, the thing is . . . if I’m going to sleep with someone in the headliner during this tour—which Aloha has repeatedly advised me against doing, by the way—then it’s not going to be Kendrick Cook. Or Kai Cook. Or Titus Connolly. Obviously, I’m not proud to admit this, but if I’m going to sleep with anyone, it’s going to be Adrian Savage. Obviously. I’ve had a crush on him forever. As wonderful as Kendrick is, I’d never blow my chances with Savage by sleeping with his bandmate, let alone the one who’s apparently his very best friend.
“So, when will the world have your next album, guys?” I ask, trying to change the subject and deflect from the flirtatious vibe I’m feeling.
“We’ll probably start recording in earnest right after the tour,” Kendrick replies. “We’ve all been on fire writing new songs during the tour. Savage, especially. He’s been churning out some amazing stuff—pure gold. So, I’m sure we’ll jump straight into the studio when we get back.”
“That’s so exciting,” I say. “If you guys ever give friends ‘early listener’ copies of your albums, I’d love to be on that list.”
“Hell yeah,” Kendrick says. “It’d be great to get your feedback. I loved the mix on your new album.”
“Thanks so much.”
Kendrick smiles broadly, and I return the gesture, simply because that’s what Kendrick Cook does to a person. He makes them want to smile. But a little piece of me knows I’m playing with fire here. Is Kendrick interpreting this smile as encouragement of something more than friendship? Because, if so, I’ve got to figure out a way to tactfully steer him into my friend zone, as soon as possible.