“Of course we are.” Max smiled. “Sunshine boys with shadows? Irresistible.”
Zane’s phone buzzed. He opened the incoming mail, and the subject line blinked at him like a dare:
Hot Leather Guys Auditions – Next Steps
Theo’s written tone was as brisk and professional as his voice and manner, but the words punched through Zane’s chest all the same.
Zane,
Thank you for auditioning. We’d like to invite you to join the group. Rehearsals begin next Thursday in London. Details attached. Welcome to Hot Leather Guys. (Except that won’t be our name. We just haven’t found the right one yet)
Zane read it twice, three times, before the words actually sank in. He pressed his hand against his mouth, stifling thelaugh that wanted to break loose. For a second, the magnolia wallpaper of his bedroom blurred, and he had to blink hard to keep from crying.
He whispered, “I’m in,” as if it was a spell that might break if he said it too loud.
His phone buzzed with a new notification. A group icon—black leather jacket emoji, microphone emoji—and the name:Hot Leather Guys (working title).
Max had added him.
Zane added a waving emoji and a single line.Zane here.Scrolling back, he caught glimpses of the others: Julian firing off flirty one-liners, Sebastian replying with dry humour, Liam dropping the occasional thoughtful check-in, and Finnley spamming glitter GIFs.
Then a new message popped up:
Finnley: serious questionhow is the hunt going for cheap-ish places in London? My bank account is crying at the thought.
Oliver: Depends on what you mean by cheap. (Spoiler: nothing is cheap.) But maybe we could team up? I looked at a new place last night. Big enough for three or four of us. I was mentally dividing the rent the whole time I was there. It was about an hour out of London by train, but that’s doable.
Zane’s heart gave a jolt. He stared at the chat, thumb hovering. This was it, his exit route.
Zane:wait. are we talking flat-hunting? because I’m in. seriously. I need out.
Finnley: omg more roomies??leather house???
Oliver: Please, not that name.
Zane: Hot Leather Guys HQ?
Finnley: better
Within minutes, the three of them were trading Rightmove links, half-joking about what kind of chaos they’d cause as flatmates.
He dropped the phone onto his duvet, lying back, breathless. For the first time in years, there was movement. Possibility. A door opening.
No more beige offices. No more smiling until his cheeks ached.
He closed his eyes and whispered it again, this time with a grin he didn’t bother to hide.
“I’m in.”
Chapter Twelve
Max Riversnever liked oval tables. Too round to command, too soft to hide in.
But tonight, he sat at one, along with nine men gathered in the dim back room of a Camden restaurant. The air smelled of alcohol, garlic butter, and nerves. He held a glass of neat whisky in his hand, hemmed in between a restless falsetto on one side, and a flirty tenor on the other.
Ten of us now.
Ten voices. Ten personalities.
