“Move over, Tits. Jordan and Garrett will be here in a sec. They’re in the head.” Sophie looked slightly murderous, but she moved over.

“Why do you eat this shit?” Cole complained as the waitress brought my and Sophie’s food. He picked up my veggie burger and made a face.

“Because I like the thought of not having a heart attack when I’m forty,” I replied.

“You’re so not rock and roll, dude. It’s amazing that you get any tang,” Cole said.

Sophie tensed even further and I knew that Cole’s antics made her uncomfortable. She had never gotten used to it.

Jordan and Garrett joined us a few minutes later. Garrett sat beside Sophie and Jordan pulled up a chair at the end of the table. Garrett gave Sophie a smile, which she returned but neither said anything to each other.

I realized that I couldn’t remember the last time Sophie had a conversation with any of my friends. She was always there, by my side, but she never attempted to join in any way. She always declined when Garrett asked if she wanted to play the X-box. She continuously turned down Maysie’s invitations to go to the store to pick up supplies for the bus.

“So I just got off the phone with Neal. He’s coming back tomorrow to talk to us about our options,” Jordan said, grabbing a menu.

Neal Thomas was our new manager. The guys in Cuban Cadillac had recommended him to us. He was known for being a straight shooter. And we needed someone with a low level of bullshit after the Jose Suarez fiasco. Our former manager had been one of the best in the business. He had made his reputation on catapulting bands into superstardom. He had also almost convinced Cole to ditch us and go out on his own and start a solo career. Jose had been a snake and in the end Cole had fired him. We hired Neal shortly after that and we had been convinced that we’d prove Jose wrong when he said we’d never go anywhere.

Things had been good. Really good. We were on our way to the big times. We were selling out venues. Our album was kicking ass. Our single was all over the radio.

We were making real, honest to god money. We were being touted as the next big thing in hard rock.

We had been a bunch of starry-eyed idiots.

We were now learning that the quicker you rose, the faster you fell.

“Options, huh? That sounds bleak,” Cole grumbled before stuffing his face with fries.

“Yeah, well we need to figure something out. Pirate isn’t happy,” Garrett added, crossing his arms on the table.

“None of us are,” I muttered under my breath.

Nobody said anything because I was right. Music had stopped being fun and was now more of a chore. I felt it every time I plugged in my bass. I felt it with every chord and every lyric. It wasn’t the same thrill we had felt back when we were just a bunch of guys jamming at Garrett’s house.

And that sucked.

Because even though I had just been angry with Sophie’s suggestion that I start thinking of doing something else, she was probably right. And that pissed me off even more. I had been holding onto this dream for so long I wasn’t sure what do when I finally had to let it go.

Great. Now I was depressed.

“Hey, do you remember that first gig at Barton’s? Jordan broke one of his sticks and Cole almost fell off the stage,” Garrett said suddenly.

I laughed. “Well he was too busy trying to look down that chick’s shirt.” I patted a smirking Cole’s shoulder.

“She had a nice rack. Not as nice as Tits McGee here, but decent enough,” he remarked, smirking at Sophie who turned three shades of red.

“Dude, seriously,” I warned.

“You need to learn to ignore him like the rest of us do,” Garrett told Sophie.

She pinched her lips together and did not look amused. I gave her foot a kick under the table and she gave me a tight smile.

“Don’t say that shit in front of Viv, she’ll put your nut sack in a vise,” Jordan warned.

“Hey, what we do for fun is our business,” Cole said and I had to laugh. Even if Sophie didn’t seem to find any of it funny.

“I just remember Mitch knocking over my five hundred dollar amp and blowing a tube,” Garrett griped.

“Shit. Yeah. I forgot about that. It was your Marshall too. The one you saved all of senior year for,” I grimaced.

“I think I still owe you an ass kicking for that one,” Garrett remarked but I knew he was only kidding.

“It was one the best damn shows we ever had though. Minus the broken drum sticks and thrashed amp,” Jordan interjected.

“Yeah it was,” Cole agreed.

“Jordan wrote Fuck Me that night,” I pointed out, remembering how he had randomly started knocking out a beat and singing some crazy ass lyrics that went on to become a crowd favorite.

Cole slapped his hand down on the table. “That’s right! I never knew where you got the idea for that song. It couldn’t have been from that chick you were dating at the time. She seemed to be the lie-on-your-back-and-think-of-the-Queen kind of screw.”

Jordan scowled but didn’t rise to the bait.

Garrett started to hum and I joined him. Jordan started to tap in rhythm on the table. Finally Cole started to sing the lyrics we all knew by heart.

Desire drips off your tongue

Legs tangled and abused

Smoldering in the aftermath

Bodies tired and used.

Your eyes hold a secret

That you’ll never tell,

The fire inside consumes me

I will embrace your hell.”

I never sang. That wasn’t my role in our group. Even though Garrett and Jordan sometimes sang lead vocals I had always been content to stay in the background. I didn’t need the limelight. I didn’t crave the fame. I had always been happy to play my music and do my thing.

So I surprised everyone by singing the chorus to our song.

Touch me,

Tease me,

Need me,

Hate me…”

“Damn Mitch, I always forget you can sing,” Jordan remarked with a grin.

I ran my hand over my mouth a little embarrassed. “Yeah, well just because I don’t flaunt it like the rest of you divas doesn’t mean I can’t.”

“With all the girls here this weekend we should battle it out with some serious karaoke. Just like old times,” Jordan suggested.

“Yeah, that sounds cool. As long as Cole remembers to keep it in his pants this time,” I said.

“With my girl here, I can’t promise anything. Karaoke makes her hot,” Cole smirked.

“Reading the newspaper makes her hot,” Garrett muttered.

“Hey. I’m not the only one that gets all revved up in the trousers during karaoke. Remember the time Mitch and Gracie sang that duet? I thought you were going to go at it right there on the stage. You two were all smoldering sexual tension. Viv and I had to go bang one out in the bathroom we were so turned on,” Cole snickered.

“Man, you never know when to shut up,” Garrett deadpanned.

My good mood was instantly gone. I looked over at Sophie and could see she wasn’t amused.

“Babe—” I began but stopped because she was already on her feet.

“I’ll see you on the bus,” Sophie said quietly and with a barely there smile to the rest of the guys, she left.

“What crawled up her ass?” Cole asked.

“Dude, did you have to bring her up? In front of Sophie? You know that shit’s not cool!” I snapped.

Cole frowned. “I don’t get it. You’ve been with Sophie for what? A year? Why is my bringing up some old shit with Gracie a problem?”

I looked to Garrett and Jordan for help but neither of them said anything. Assholes.

“Because—”

“Because you boned her? So what. That was a long time ago.” Cole looked genuinely perplexed.