Chapter 6

Darryl Nelson

“So, how long have you been with your girlfriend?” Dalia slides into the seat next to me, passing me a coffee and a lit cigarette.

“Thanks,” I say, taking a sip of the scalding-hot drink. “Technically, we’re only together for, like, a month or so, but we’ve known each other since birth.”

“Their families are super duper close, closer than most actual families!” Smit joins in, smashing a huge, glazed donut into his mouth. “And it’s so cool, too, because Darryl’s mom is Abi Taylor, as in ~the~ Abi Taylor from Ashes Within!”

From the couch behind us, Axl huffs out a laugh without humor. “Fuckin’ figures.”

I scowl, turning around and staring at the back of his perfectly styled head. “What?”

“Ignore him,” Dalia pulls on my arm, making me turn my attention back around to her. “That’s pretty cool. She is one of the women who makes me want to become a metal singer.”

She gives me a genuine smile, her hazel eyes looking almost golden in the morning sun. “Yeah…it is pretty cool growing up. She takes me and my little brother and dad on tour with her. That’s how I know Mikey.”

I gesture with my thumb toward our sleeping babysitter. Will peers around me, his long dreadlocks brushing against my arm. “That’s Mikey. Mikey Piotrowski from Ashes Within?! I am in the presence of a drumming god, and I don’t even know it!” He shakes his head. “Dude gets ~old~, man!”

I chuckle. “Whatever you say, don’t tell him that. He still thinks he’s in his twenties.”

Again, Axl mutters under his breath, something derogatory, I’m guessing. I start to turn around again, but Dalia lays a cool hand on my arm, shaking her head a little when I look down at her.

I allow myself to be drawn into the conversation going on around the little table, thankful once again for Smit’s motor mouth. I glance at Evan, sitting silently opposite me, his hair hanging over his face as usual, chewing on his thumbnail. He meets my eyes and gives a little shrug as if to say, ~‘Dude’s an asshole, but just let it go’~.

***

Coming off stage after soundcheck, Lukas Wolffe waits for us, leaning up against the speaker stack, his long blond hair lying down around his shoulders, his skintight leather trousers already on.

“You kids sound better every time I hear you!” he rasps, his vocal cords fucked from the years of screaming on stage and smoking like a chimney.

“You listen to us?!” Smit’s fan-girl routine is still kinda cute, even after all this time—dude is a total nerd for rock music. Lukas chuckles, little puffs of smoke shooting out of his mouth and nose like a fucked-up steam train.

“Hell’s yeah, I listen! If you boys carry on like this, I’m sure we’ll be able to work on getting y’all signed.” He grins, and I’m positive if he hadn’t been standing in front of us, that Smit would be jumping up and down like a little girl. Even Evan cracks a little hint of a smile from under his shadow of hair.

The guys from Meliora are traipsing past us at this point, and Axl scoffs and rolls his eyes as he walks past me. As I open my mouth to say something to the asshole, Dalia once again puts a cool hand on me to hold me back. I frown down at her, and she just gives a soft smile and a little shake of her head.

***

It gets late, and I haven’t heard from Stevie past the text she sends around midday just to say her first day is going okay.

“Hey!” Smit drops down next to me, his brown eyes sparkling with excitement. “I still can’t believe we’re fucking here, man! This is so much cooler than I ever fucking thought it would be!”

“You do realize you sound like a tween girl, right?” I quirk one of my eyebrows at him as he just grins and nods.

“Some of us are going to go grab some food if you wanna come.”

One massive benefit of having a band as well-established as The Sons of Hyperion is that they have the best hookups for food wherever we play. For example, the town we are playing tonight, they have commandeered a taco truck that they buy food from every time they come through. Right now, it is parked outside the buses, around the back of the venue.

I nod yes, grabbing my Ashes Within hoodie—it is from their first headline European tour, and my mom has gotten me and Vinnie special versions with our names emblazoned on the chest, over our hearts, written in the same scribbly heavy metal script. I’ve only really started fitting in mine in the last couple of years, but Vinnie’s still drowns him. I pull it on, running my hand through my messy hair, and follow my bandmate outside to where Evan is standing, looking awkwardly alone with the guys from Meliora. Lying eyes on me, Axl pulls a face and turns away, striding off ahead of the group. ~What’s his fucking problem?~

I hang back, choosing to walk with Evan while Smit’s happy chatter filters back to us as he amuses Dalia and her other bandmates. Axl already has a loaded taco in his hand, and the rest of us queue up and place our orders. Will, the drummer, sits with me and Evan while we eat, the two of us getting into a deep discussion about our preferred instrument. Dalia migrates over to our table, sitting down next to me, and the conversation soon moves onto music in general.

She shivers, her arms wrapped around herself, and I glance over at her, noting the covering of goosebumps on her exposed arms. “Here,” I say, slipping my hoodie off and passing it to her.

“Thanks!” Gratefully, she pulls it on, giggling at the size of it on her small frame.

***

One of the first things I do after coming off stage is call Stevie. I probably look all kinds of gross, but I can’t wait to tell her about my day and hear all about hers.

We do have enough separate changing rooms at this venue, so Meliora and we are sharing tonight. Between our set and theirs, there is usually a break of fifteen to twenty minutes while the stagehands set up Meliora’s equipment and so on, so they are still all lounging around when we traipse in.

The two couches are full, so I sit on the floor, leaving my long legs outstretched in front of me, and press Stevie’s icon on my cell. As soon as her beautiful smile fills my screen, I feel at peace.

I excitedly tell her about my day—about hanging out with Lukas Wolffe and his praise about our band. She looks a little distracted, so I stop my rambling—I swear hanging out with Smit all day every day is rubbing off on me.

“Hey…is everything okay? Is your first day of writing class not what you expected?”

She frowns a little. “No, it is fine.”

“Well, did you not make any friends?” I tilt my head to the side, waiting for her answer.

“There is this one guy,” she starts with a smile, and I sit up a little straighter, jealousy already trickling through my veins. “Cameron. He seems nice. We go and get coffee together after class.”

“Great,” I give her a tight smile, speaking from behind gritted teeth. We’ve only been apart for a couple of weeks, but it feels like she’s already replacing me.