Mason, Gordo and him loved their fans, but selling merch was something that none of them were particularly fond of. They couldn't get anything done because people wanted to talk to them more than they wanted to actually buy anything.
When I sent both Mason and Gordo messages and didn't get a response, my gut feeling was confirmed. Those two bitches kept their phones on them like the end of the world would be set into motion if they missed a call or a text message. Laila was sitting behind the merch table with me and offered to keep an eye on it after I showed her the message. I tried my best to get through the crowd as quickly as possible without having to elbow too many people. I'd barely made it to the hallway behind the stage when I spotted Gordo pacing outside of the green room.
His dark, nearly black eyes, widened when he saw me approaching. "Are you leaving?" he asked, scratching his eyebrow with a single index finger.
I shook my head in response. "No. What's going on?"
"Nothing," the son of a bitch answered too quickly. He was worse at lying than I was.
I narrowed my eyes at him. "Gordis."
He winced and immediately sighed in defeat. The man was the easiest person in the universe to break. I would never trust him with a secret because he'd crack in no time. "Brandon is here."
I think that if I’d heard those words two months ago, more than likely I would have gone ballistic breaking things while on a war-path to destroy his face—wherever it was.
But the surprising part was that I found myself without the slightest urge to do just that. I mean, what kind of nerve did he have coming to a show he knew my brother was playing at? I never took Brandon to be that much of a dumbass, but I guess I’d misjudged him. I didn't want to see his face, and I definitely didn't understand where his balls came from.
This tour was my house. My family. My place.
And I sure as hell wasn't going to let him make me cower in hopes that I wouldn't see him. I'd given him too much power over my life in the month immediately after we broke up, and I would never give him or anyone the same again. I hoped.
Screw. That.
I nodded at Gordo and even smiled as his face took on an “oh shit” expression. "Okay."
I was fine, and that fucker would learn just how fine I was. Maybe I’d been completely caught off-guard when he broke things off, but I would bet he’d be way more surprised before the night was over. I made a beeline for The Cloud Collision’s green room next door, knowing that they were the reason why Brandon was at the show.
He hated going to shows. He’d said that to me at least a hundred times in the two years we were together.
When I made it to the back room, I found Sacha and Isaiah inside preparing for the show. Sacha was standing in the corner of the room pulling things out of a small nylon bag I’d seen him go through before after the show. Inside of it was some kind of massager, tea, and an oil he applied to his throat before starting his vocal warm-up. He was already halfway dressed for the night in his slacks and undershirt. Isaiah ,on the other hand, had his guitar in his lap, plugged into a small practice amp. When Isaiah noticed me standing there, he motioned me inside.
"Is everything all right?” he asked.
I cleared my throat and nodded. "Yeah, everything is fine. I was just wondering if you’ve seen Brandon?"
Sacha turned around. The expression on his face was one of pure curiosity.
"The guitar player in Screaming Ivy?" Isaiah asked.
It was an immediate response to want to gag at the mention of that terrible band but I held it back. What the hell had I been thinking, dating someone who played in a band with such a stupid name? "Yes."
"I think he's on the bus with Julian and Miles," Isaiah replied. Miles was the name of the bass player of TCC.
Sacha's lips twitched as he walked over to where Isaiah was sitting and parked his butt on the armrest. "Do you know him?"
I swear I couldn't help but snicker as I steeled my spine and prepared to go rip my ex a new asshole. "Yeah. I do." I rubbed my hands over my thighs and gave them a smile that was probably more vicious than it needed to be. “Thanks for telling me. Have a good show tonight, okay?”
I'd barely made it three steps out of the room when I felt a hand on my elbow. Without looking I knew it was Sacha who was tugging me back toward him. His eyes were wary. "Why do I feel like you're about to go do something bad?"
"Because I am," I chuckled, taking a step forward, a step closer to my mission. "I'm kidding. I swear I'm not going to do anything bad. I just need to go talk to him for a minute."
Those gray eyes swept across my face. "Are you friends?"
I cleared my throat and fought the urge to scratch my ear. "We used to date."
"That guy is your ex?" he asked after a brief pause.
He’d heard more than enough about my infamous ex from my family the night before. Especially from traitor Iza. Damn it.
