“Stop it right there,” he said, a finger raised, brows slightly knitted together with concern.
He might have pushed her limits. But what if this was what she needed? What if this helped her get out of her shell completely? What if they could get back what they had in high school? Okay, maybe that was selfish, but one of the best memories he had from that period of life when he didn’t know who he was, or what he wanted and everything sent his mood to the curb, was this. Their passion for music. Leah adding melody and lyrics to his compositions. Them together on the trashiest stages in their hometown. Their dreams, goals, and energies combined.
“Look, you’re scared, I get it. And you’ll probably freak out the first few times. But it’s in your fucking blood. He’s behind bars; will be for a long time. And, quoting your dad, ‘you shouldn’t let him steal this from you’.” He paused. That was when he saw it. A crack in her armor.
“But Hannah’s so good, and I’m rusty…”
“Oh, fuck that!” Chris waved a palm. “You were born for this, and have classical and technical training. She’s just gifted and took a few classes ages ago. Once you get rolling again, she won’t hold a candle to you.”
Leah sighed.
“Say yes?” He gave her his best puppy look. “I’d love it to be like it was in the past. But instead of having Luca at the bass, he’d be backstage, covering our asses.”
She twisted her mouth.
“All the guys like you.”
“Because I don’t cringe at your nasty jokes.”
“Well, yeah.” Chris laughed. “That’s definitely a plus, but they really appreciate you. You’re one of the crew already, to all of us.”
It was the truth. The rest of the band had all met her several years back—before she became a hostage to that abusive relationship. And since she’d moved in with Chris six months before, they’d all been hanging out together almost every weekend, be it at bars or gigs. She had even helped them with the merch stand more than once. None of the guys minded having women around, but they talked like truck drivers, and not everyone liked that. Leah, however, didn’t give a fuck and blended perfectly with them.
“I…” She leaned back on the chair and looked at the ceiling. “Can I think about it?”
“Can I pester you about it?”
“I guess that’s fair?”
“Deal.” Chris grinned.
Den of Assholes
Today
LUCALU: Why do I keep talking to you?
CHRIS: Because you love us
LUCALU: In your dreams
DADDY UWE: Jesus, you talk too fucking much. My phone has been vibrating nonstop for the last hour. Anything important I need to know?
DRUMMER BOY: Nah. It was just Chris sending inappropriate videos and shit.
MARCO POLO: Dude, you’ve been laughing too
DADDY UWE: Go to fucking hell. I’m off to bed
CHRIS: Bye daddyyyy
LUCALU: I’m leaving too
MARCO POLO: Yeah, we all should. It’s late. Don’t you work tomorrow?
CHRIS: Nope :D
DRUMMER BOY: That’s why you’re such a pain in the ass. Go jerk off
