“Yeah, they’re by a band called—wait for it—the Band. Doesn’t get more generic than that. Worked out for them just fine. We make Playersourword, we infuse it with meaning. And hello, it’s a play on our lead singer’s name.”
“I get that. But it’s not my band.”
“No. It’s the Players.”
“Maybe.”
Summer sighed. “Are you saying you’ll think it over? May I quote you? If one more person tells me ‘I’ll think it over,’ I’m gonna—”
“We’re not naming this band until it’s a band, Summer.Equalplayers, remember?”
She huffed. “Fine.”
I sighed and rubbed my hand over my face. Fuck, was I in a shit mood. Honestly, I was bothered by our progress with putting the band together, too. She wasn’t the only one worried that we were stalling out.
“Why don’t you come to the show tonight?” she asked me, reading my angst. “You could invite your girl to come.”
“First of all, she’s not my girl. So you can stop calling her that. And second of all, no.”
“You’re not coming?”
“Not tonight.”
Just the thought of being in a hot, crowded club while Summer’s sexy music throbbed through the room and Danica rubbed up against me, probably in some slinky little dress like the one she wore last time I saw her in a club—and made her come—made my dick fucking ache.
I was staying right here tonight, on my new couch, in my bad mood and sweatpants. Alone.
Summer sighed. “Suit yourself. But don’t dwell in this funk too long, alright?”
I grunted a noncommittal response to that. “How come no one’s jumping right on board with us?” I asked her. “When are they gonna start coming to us? They should be coming to us, fucking begging to be in our band.”
“Ashley, we’re basically asking people to change the course of their lives. It’s a big deal. Plus, no one knows about us yet, really, and how serious we are and how brilliant this is gonna be.” She paced over and stood over me, hands on her hips again. “Maybe that’s what we need…”
“What?”
“Some PR. Some buzz.”
“Buzz about what? We have no band yet.”
“Wrong,” she said. “Here’s what we have. We have Ashley Fucking Player, we have me, we have big plans for world music chart domination—”
“We do?”
“And if we can get the right people in our corner to spin all that the right way for us, theywillbe coming to us. We could hold auditions.”
“Fuck auditions.”
“Why? Even Dirty held auditions when they were looking to replace Seth.”
“I don’t know. Maybe, okay? I can take it up with management, see what they think.”
“Yeah. About that.” Summer dropped onto the arm of the couch, by my feet. “I’m gonna tell you something, as your longtime friend, now your bandmate, and as a person who truly cares about you. Your management company doesn’t give a rat’s ass about you, Ashley Player.”
“Harsh.”
“Harsh, maybe, but true. I’ve listened to you complain about how they favor their other artists over you, foryears. Tell me you’re totally happy with your working relationship with them, and I’ll back off about it, right now.”
I said nothing.
