Page 153 of Call Me Baby 2: Side B

The drummer has his shirt twisted in his nervous fist as my gaze swims across the four of them. “I paid your way to LA. Got you that slot here. Venom. Because people need to hear your music.”

The bassist leans forward. “Wait—you paid for all this? The flights? The slot? All of it was you?”

The drummer snorts, disbelief in his laugh. “Shit. I thought it was some promoter deal.”

The blond one taps his bottled watter against his knee. “We can’t get booked outside county lines. And you… got us in at Venom?”

Noah’s the only one who isn’t smiling,

face struck, still staring at me.

“Why? Who are you?

“Why’d you even give a shit about us?”

Before I can answer⁠—

The door swings open.

The drummer chokes on his water.

The bassist’s mouth drops open.

The blond one blurts out first,

“Holy shit. That’s Eli Stone.”

Eli walks in, fingers full of rings, hair falling messy, looking cut out of a poster, not a plane seat. He goes around the room, clapping shoulders and shaking hands. “Y’all tore that stage up. Raw as hell.” He blows out a breath, impressed. “Reminded me of Trash Romance back when we still smelled like Miller Lite and ashtrays.”

The guys laugh, still speechless. “I don’t even know what to do with my hands right now,” the drummer mutters.

Eli crosses his arms. “You don’t get many nights like that. First time in LA? First time on Sunset? Burn that shit into your heads,” he taps his temple, “‘cause it never feels like the first time again.”

The blond has his head in both hands,

eyes wide. “This is insane.”

“Yeah,” Eli agrees, eyes swinging to me, then back to them. “You know why you and me are sittin’ in this green room right now?”

The guys pass looks back and forth, when Eli jerks a thumb at me. “All her.” He crouches to their level, big-brother serious. “This is Allison Taylor—songwriter, producer, future CEO for the label I’m under. Flew all the way from New York for you guys.”

The drummer lets out a low whistle.

The rest of them whisper to each other.

Noah’s barely moved an inch.

Eli holds up his hands in surrender. “True story. She believed in you enough to put you on that stage tonight, and she’s the only reason I’m standing in front of you guys right now. Because when Allison Taylor says a band’s worth the trip, I believe her. You should too.”

He squints at them,

his hair falling into his eyes.

“So word of advice? Don’t waste this moment. She don’t gamble on losers, and right now, she’s the only person you can trust. She gets it. She’ll cut herself open for you. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

He slaps the table once,

pushes up to his feet.