The crowd screams. The girls in the front row dance, trying to gain our attention. They have it. For the next two and a half hours, they will get more than they paid for.

The song ends, and I look around at the guys and laugh. All of us are perma-grinning. I’m not sure if it’s the high or the high. Maybe both.

“You wanna little story?”

The crowd screams.

“Not even two years ago, we sat in this kick-ass studio, looking around and thinking the owner was just a punk ass kid who wanted to play the role of big time music producer with family money.” I look at the guys, who laugh and nod. “I still think he’s a punk sometimes, but he’s got mad respect from me.”

I lift my shirt and turn around. “Forever Steel, bro.”

I look over where Taelyn is beaming, and X is trying his best to act unaffected, but I see it. I see the love.

“Well, he and the real reason we stuck around—his hot ass wife” —I glance back at X-man, who flips me off—“sat us down, and he told me why this was important to him. He said, ‘I want to find the damn kid who was picked on because he wasn’t cool enough to hang, the one who, instead of banging the cheer captain, went home and finger-fucked his guitar or banged his drums like he wanted to bang the football captain’s girl. I want the kid who went to bed every goddamn night with headphones on, listening to his favorite songs to escape the reality of an abusive or absent father. I want the girl who wasn’t good enough to hang with the “it” crowd and dove into the piano, letting her fingers tickle the ivory while she created perfection because she was fucking good enough. I want the guy dressed in all black to have his voice and the notes he belts out be his ultimate orgasm. I want the people who were told they couldn’t be shit to live and breathe something other than a twisted up blunt. I want their high to be the notes, the melodies, the beats, the songs that live inside them. I want them to be who they are and be seen, not what the stuffy ass production company suit told them to be. I want to be the one to help them find who they are without walking on to a stage where some British fuck tells them they’re not marketable’.” I pause, and the crowd roars. “He found us. He stuck by us, and we hope to make him proud.”

I look up and shake my head. “Now enough of the head trip. Get ready for the night of your life. Are you ready to rock?”

They scream.

Pandemonium.

“I said, are you ready to rock?”

Chaos.

“Are you fucking ready to get rocked!”

Mayhem.

Two hours of rock and roll, two hours of nonstop fucking jamming, two of the best hours of my life!

“Look beside you, ladies. Is he what you want? Eyes back here, babe. If he’s not, do yourselves a favor and find the one you were meant to be with.”

I look off stage and find Emerald City.

“Here’s a song for all you lovers out there. “Surface to Soul”.”

Awaken beast, you took my all.

Taboo desires, burn out of control.

Intoxicated youth, a troubled teen.

Still both inside, eternal flames.

Surface to soul.

But I’m chasing the light,

Chasing my goal,

Chasing the girl who owns my soul.

Chasing the night,

Chasing the score,

Chasing the need to rock this floor.

I’m missing you. Oo-oo-oo

I’m missing you. Oo-oo-oo

Chasing my dream.

You chase the same.

We’re chasing away the fucking game.

Chasing the right.

Chasing the wrong.

Chasing the words to write your song.

I’m missing you. Oo-oo-oo.

I’m missing you. Oo-oo-oo.

Down on my knees, I beg you now.

I can’t let go, Tales. I don’t know how.

A tender heart, a taken toll.

What was surface took my soul.

Surface to soul.

But I’m chasing the light.

Chasing my goal.

Chasing the girl who owns my soul.

Chasing the night,

Chasing the score,

Chasing the need to rock this floor.

I’m missing you. Oo-oo-oo.

I’m missing you. Oo-oo-oo.

Chasing my dream.

You chase the same.

We’re chasing away the fucking game.

Chasing the right,

Chasing the wrong,

Chasing the words to write your song.

I’m missing you. Oo-oo-oo.

But I’m chasing the light,

Chasing my goal,

Chasing the girl who owns my soul.

Chasing the night,

Chasing the score,

Chasing the need to rock this floor.

I’m missing you. Oo-oo-oo

I’m missing you. Oo-oo-oo

Chasing my dream.

You chase the same.

We’re chasing away the fucking game.

Chasing the right,

Chasing the wrong,

Chasing the words to write your song.

I’m missing you. Oo-oo-oo.

Back stage, I shower and then stand in an empty dressing room. I told the guys I would catch up with them later. I know they all picked out their treat for the night, and I have mine picked out, too.

The door opens, and Tally slides in.

“Tales …” I begin.

“Shh,” she says with her finger to her mouth as she walks toward me.

She grips the towel and pulls me toward her before kissing my chest then continuing on a downward path. She pulls the towel down, going to her knees, and grabs my dick with both hands, pumping while her tongue swipes across my head once, twice, three times. Then she tugs on the ring, and I groan.

“You need to stop teasing my cock, babe, and … fuck. Yeah, just like that. Fuck,” I hiss as I feel my head hit the back of her throat as she pumps my dick in her hands. She doesn’t stop, either. It’s relentless, almost punishing.

She then reaches up, takes my hand, places it on the back of her head, puts her hand over it, and pushes.

“Fuck, Tales. Oh, fuck.”

Her hand leaves mine to it, and the selfish fuck in me takes what she is giving. I fist her hair and pump into her, taking what she is giving, fucking her mouth. I get lost in it—the pleasure the indulgence, the hedonism—until I feel her tense, and I look down.

Holy fuck, Tales.” I pull her up.

“No, don’t. I want you so badly.”

“Then you’ll have me, sweet cheeks.” I push those little, silky shorts to the side and feel the heat and how drenched she is through the material. I bend enough to line myself up and nearly come from the sound she makes. “You need my cock that badly, Tales?”

“Please,” she begs.

I push in just a little, grabbing her ass.

“Wrap ’em round.”

She immediately wraps her legs around my waist. Then I lean back against the wall and pump slowly in and out, giving her a little at a time. Her pussy contracts, and I know she’s already gone.

I turn us around so her back hits the wall, and then I push in without restraint again and again and again as she cries out my name over and over and over.

Later, we walk out of Bader, hand in hand. She is so happy, and I don’t know how after the hell Stevie put her through today. And God only knows how long it’s been going on, crazy-ass bitch.

“Can’t go back, Tales.” I open the door for her. “I won’t let you.”

She nods, and I hide the excitement from her agreeing.