This was a waste of our time if we couldn’t see how this new guy fit in with our sound, and after another 20 minutes of playing, I covered the microphone and turned to the guys.
“Tell me I’m not alone in wondering where the hell this guy is?”
Riku set his drumsticks on his kit before he shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m just doing my best until he gets here. Maybe there was something that made them late.”
Being late was rude. Especially when you didn’t have a good reason for it.
Maybe I was the only one annoyed since everyone resumed playing but paused when I didn’t start singing again.
“Yasu?” Itsuki asked, lowering his guitar.
I shook my head before walking away from the mic stand toward the door. They didn’t need me to practice since apparently we didn’t need a bassist. I totally understood that I was being ridiculous, but it didn’t stop me from throwing open the door and storming out into the hall.
The music grew fainter behind me as I made my way toward the offices. I was a man on a mission. Toshi didn’t really have to answer to me—he was our manager after all—but this still wasn’t nice. Our band had been through enough without him being disrespectful.
I turned a corner and ran smack into something hard and solid.
The second my ass hit the floor, I stared up in shock, realizing that I’d run into someone. I’d never seen him before. He had red spiked hair, and charcoal lined his eyes. He looked like he was dressed for a show, which was dumb. No one dressed up like that on a normal basis. Well, except for maybe this guy.
He said nothing, only stood there and stared at me, which only made my skin crawl. I huffed my irritation before standing and brushing my hands off on my pants.
“You make a good wall,” I said.
The man smirked but didn’t move out of my way. I was about to go off on him when a large hand grabbed his shoulder and pulled him to the side.
“Yasu-san, there you are. Osoku natte sumimasen.” Toshi dropped his hand from the guy’s shoulder, offering me a slight bow.
My lungs seized.
If Toshi was leading this guy around, that meant this was our new bassist. Based on first impressions and appearance alone, he wasn’t the right fit at all. What the hell had our label been thinking picking this guy?
I was looking at dark punk, not the peppy vibe that Pink Cherry was known for. At least I knew he wouldn’t have an issue with the whole Visual Kei concept. While the genre was wildly popular, there were still people who had an issue with it. Considering that the entire premise of Visual Kei was based on nineteen eighties American hair bands. It was like people didn’t understand how to appreciate other cultures.
Maybe it was because of the fangirling or how obsessive some listeners could be. They liked to match our costumes, the crowds at concert venues could sometimes be extreme. Compared to American concerts, ours looked a lot tamer.
I’d take a synchronized dancing crowd over chaos any day.
“Yasu?”I shook my head as Toshi said my name again.
How many times had he said it? His brow showed concern, and when I looked up at the other man between us, his smirk grew. It made me want to slap the look off his face. I didn’t have time for people who were overly cocky like this. This was my band, and I didn’t need someone to come in and throw a wrench into a well-oiled machine.
“Toshi-sama, You know me. I get focused on one thing and I can’t let it go. You were so late, I couldn’t focus on the rehearsal until I knew what was going on,” I explained, standing from the floor and brushing my hands on my jeans.
The longer the other guy stood there continuing his silence, the more angry I got. He was downright rude. He couldn’t evenoffer to help me up? Not that I would have taken the help. It was the principle of it. You offered.
Toshi nodded before motioning to the still silent red-headed man. “This is Ryosuke. He’s been to the studios before, but not to this part of the building. It was my fault for assuming that he could find your practice room.”
Instead of doing the nice thing and greeting him, I only nodded at Toshi. It was dismissive as hell—I knew that—but this guy was already rubbing me the wrong way. It wasn’t fair to not even give him a chance, but I was in a mood now. There was no snapping me out of that.
It wasn’t missed.
Toshi narrowed his eyes at me as he directed both of us back down the hall toward our practice room. The guys were still playing, which was great because the last thing we needed was for Toshi to berate us for neglecting practice after I’d just dropped a ton of attitude all over the hallway.
It didn’t help that the second I opened the door to the practice room—it was enough to disturb whatever momentum the guys had going. Instruments slowed to a halt as three sets of eyes turned to us standing in the doorway.
As always, Riku was indifferent, he couldn’t care that we had someone new intruding in our carefully crafted space. Tatsuki set his guitar to the side, eyeing the man who was following me maybe a little too closely. Seriously. What was with Ryosuke? Did he need to be right up on my ass? He’d get to meet everyone, and I got I wasn’t being the nicest, but it was his fault for putting me in this mood.
Okay, so my mood was my fault, but come on.
