It feels like the beginning of the end of Fireball.
My laptop’s balanced on the edge of our home office, sunlight slants across the floor behind me. Connor looks older than he did a week ago. Padraig’s not fully on screen. I hear his voice before I see him, saying something muffled to someone in the background.
He finally drops into the chair beside Connor. Doesn’t look atme.
Linus, Avonna, and I have seen the news. Vague headlines. The “unforeseen circumstances.” No one’s saying what happened, which means it was bad. Linus has heard some things through the grapevine, but I’ve learned to believe nothing unless it comes straight from the source.
Connor wastes no time. “I can’t get into the details, but LTZ is clearin’ up our obligations through the rest of the year.”
He looks between us. I can’t believe what I’m hearing.
“I spoke to management this morning. They’re going to offer Fireball every single one of our festival slots in Europe. All of them. Some of them at prime times.”
My heart punches against my ribs. I lean back like it’s Christmas morning. “Holy fuck. Those are the biggest stages—”
“I know,” Padraig cuts in. His voice is calm, too calm. I know him well enough to hear the catch under it. Something’s already wrong.
Connor studies him. “You’ve earned this. Don’t waste the opportunity.”
I nod automatically, already spinning out logistics in my mind. I cannot wait to tell Avonna and Linus. This is huge. Album rollout, media schedule, visas, promo. Could be our biggest break yet. The Netflix theme song gave us a second wind, the buzz on our new album is fire.
A tour would seal it.
Padraig’s eyes are somewhere else. Not here. Not with us.
Connor and I dive into dates, rough routing, the crew we’d need to bring. I’m talking fast, fueled by adrenaline and possibility. We’ve waited years for this kind of break.
Padraig doesn’t seem to be paying attention. Then he leans forward. “You’re gonna have to find a fill-in drummer.”
“What?” I freeze.
He doesn’t flinch. “I can’t do it. If you want Fireball to take the festivals, get someone else behind the kit. I’m not leavin’ for three months.”
The words hit me like a slap.
“You’d walk away? From everythin’ we’ve been building?” My voice goes sharp. “We have a fuckin’albumcoming out.”
“I’m sayin’ figure it out without me.” His tone rises. “I’m tired of puttin’ my personal life last. Why should I?”
I shoot a look at Connor, begging him to jump in.
“Fine,” I grind out. “Bring your family. We can make it work.”
Connor nods. “It could. You’d have your own space on the bus.”
Padraig shuts it down. “No.”
I try to soften. Urgency still bleeding through. “We need you, Padraig.”
He shakes his head. “You don’t. Not for this. The three of you’ve got your groove. A fill-in could handle the festivals.”
Anger flares. “Fuck this.” I direct my attention to Connor. “Talk some sense into our brother before he walks away from the biggest tour we’ve ever been offered. A chance to make stupid money for a change.”
I slam the laptop shut. If I don’t, I’m going to say something I can’t take back. Afterward, I can’t stop pacing. My brother’s voice still rings in my ears.You’re gonna have to find a fill-in drummer.I can’t do it.
I tried to keep my cool. Offered solutions. Compromises. But he shut it all down. Flat. Like none of it mattered.
Fuck.
