His voice came out like raw velvet, smooth, but frayed at the edges. The stripped-down version was bare and brutal, every note pulled from the pit of his exhaustion and grief. He didn’t push; he let silence breathe between the lines, let the ache sit on his tongue.
Theo’s pen stilled. Max’s grin vanished, replaced by something sharper, hungrier.
When the last note faded, Liam set the mic back on its stand. His arms hung loose at his sides, but inside he was wound tight.
Did I give them enough?
Not that it mattered. He’d given them everything he had. And if they wanted more, then tough shit. This wasn’t for him.
Except by now he was praying he ticked their boxes.
I think I need this.
“Do you own leather?” Max’s tone was teasing, but the question landed heavy.
“Yes.” No elaboration.
Let them wonder.
Theo tilted his head, his expression unreadable. “This isn’t just about singing. It’s about truth. Standing there as yourself—no armour, no disguise. Can you do that?”
Those words—armour, truth, disguise—lanced through him.
They want all of me.Liam wasn’t sure if he could provide that, but if he didn’t tell them what they wanted to hear, there was always the chance they’d give him a politeThanks but we’re not interested.
Liam met Theo’s gaze. “I think I can.”
I hope I can.
“One more thing,” Max added. “Once we start rehearsing, there’s a distinct possibility we’ll be based in London. Would that be a problem?”
He gave a tired smile. “I’m a trauma nurse. I imagine they need those in London just like they do in Manchester. I can always transfer to another hospital.” And nurses tended to share accommodation, so that wouldn’t be an issue.
“Solution-oriented.” Max smiled. “I like that.”
Theo rose and offered a hand. His grip was firm, his eyes focused on Liam’s. “We’ll be in touch.”
Not the answer Liam craved, but at least there was now warmth under the formality. Max shook his hand too, longer, rougher, like a silent dare.
Liam left Velvet and stepped onto Canal Street, the cool air hitting him like absolution.
I did it. It felt like the bravest thing he’d done since…
Nope. Not going there.
His heart was pounding harder than after a twelve-hour shift. He pulled out his phone, typed:
Just auditioned for a singing group. It’s… different. Talk soon?
Then he deleted it before it could be sent. His dad didn’t need to know. Not yet.
He shoved the phone away and smiled faintly to himself.This could be dangerous. But maybe danger’s what I need.
The door clicked shut behind Liam, and for a moment silence stretched between them.
Max let out a low whistle. “Wow. He gets my vote.” He glanced at Theo. “Well? What did you think?”
Theo tapped his pen against the page, where he’d scrawled only a few words:Discipline. Presence. Pain.He looked up. “He’s good. Too good, maybe. There’s a whole story under that control.”
