“Bye,” I stammered and turned to exit the room. In the other corner, Jamie was watching us, still entangled with the woman from before, his eyes glassy and as dark as tar.
* * *
We leftthe club without Cole, who appeared to have gone off somewhere. Since we weren’t driving tonight, I assumed he’d find his way back to the bus at some point. Ezra had his arm around me as we walked back to the vehicle, claiming I looked cold, but I was pretty sure it was because he was struggling to walk straight. His heavy body pressed down on mine, making me stumble on the pavement.
“You have a good time, Ivy?” he asked, his words slightly slurred. “I didn’t see you for a bit back there. Where did you go off to?”
I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, you were too busy doing shots. I went into one of the back rooms.” A moment passed. “I met Oliver.”
“Oh,” Ezra vocalized, his tone growing higher. “He’s a nice guy. Very talented. He wrote all of Ritual Disruption’s songs. I wish he’d write something with us, but he’s known for never collaborating with anyone.”
Maybe this was my chance to get more information. “Do you know him well?”
“Personally? Nah. We’ve just chatted a bit here and there.”
I bit on my bottom lip as we moved closer to the bus. “He seems the complete opposite of Jamie.”
“Mmm. I think they go way back. Like your brother and I. That kinda history makes you put up with all kinds of shit from people,” Ezra said before abruptly pulling away from me.
I looked at him in alarm. “What’s wrong?”
The drummer swayed on his feet. “I’m going to be sick. Overindulged a bit today. You go on up, Ivy. I’ll see you mañana.”
He did look a little green. I rolled my eyes at him again and marched back on the bus.
Why couldn’t I have played it a bit more cool around Oliver?We look good together.He’d teased me, and I’d taken the bait like an amateur. Still, he hadn’t seemed to want me to leave, so maybe he didn’t think I was as silly as I had felt.
I climbed into my bunk before the rest of the guys got back on the bus. Light snores came from a few feet away. Must be Ran, since he didn’t come out tonight. I stuck my headphones into my ears to block him out.
Ritual Disruption’s first album had come out eight years ago. The first song started to play, and I pulled up the lyrics on my phone. It was a hauntingly beautiful melody, much like the man who wrote it. I wanted to listen to all of their albums and to discover the pieces of himself he’d hidden in his songs. I wanted to discover everything there was to know about my new friend Oliver.
* * *
I wokeup as the bus started moving in the morning. We were driving to Oakland for the next show, and the venue was only forty-five minutes from where the bus had been parked in SOMA.
No one else was up, likely sleeping off their hangovers, and Cole hadn’t returned to the bus at all. The curtain to his bunk was pulled open, showing a messy bed, his over-the-ear headphones, and a few magazines wrinkled in the corner. I shook my head and made my way to the kitchen to make some coffee.
I guess last night was what Cole meant when he said I’d see some of their glamorous life, I just hadn’t expected all of them to get completely tanked in the process. If this was how things continued, I’d have no trouble having my own space on the tour, but I might struggle to spend any quality time with my brother.
While the coffee machine got to work, I sat down in the breakfast nook and looked at my phone. For what must’ve been the hundredth time in the past few hours, I pulled up the picture of Oliver and me.
My God. He was breathtaking. Those sensual lips seemed to offer things that no sane woman could ever deny. His green eyes were narrowed in amusement, his angular jaw impossibly sharp. There was something cruel in the way all of his features came together—as if looking at his beauty came with a steep price.
I should know. I was paying with my heart.
But there was more to him than his flawless appearance. I couldn’t forget how talking to him made me feel. Like I was being lifted out of my insignificant existence into a life filled with infinite possibilities.
At the ping of the coffee machine, I rose to pour myself a cup and sent one of the photos to Zoey and Sophie.
“HO. LY. SHIT. Who IS that?”Sophie responded right away.
I smiled to myself. I wasn’t being crazy. Oliver was objectively perfect.
“Oliver Straits. Guitarist of Ritual Disruption. Met him last night at the club.”
“Who are YOU?! You look amazing!”Zoey texted a moment later.
“Thanks. I’m impressed you noticed me in the photo. All I’ve been doing is zooming in on him.”
