Page 19 of Lyric & the Heartbeats

She could have spent all day in their little corner, but shortly, she excused herself to continue trekking around the room. Andi met her halfway and pulled her to the side.

“So, what do you think so far?”

“I think… I feel like this is too easy.”

Andi arched a brow at that. “Really? After all this anxiety you’ve been having, you make a decision within two hours?”

“Well, it’s not final. But the group in the corner stands out to me. I don’t know why, but I like them.”

“Sounds good to me. So we’ve got drums, keyboard, and lead guitar. All you need is a…”

“Bassist,” Lyric said, and glanced around the group again.

The two bassists in the room were polite, but that’s about as far as it went. Sure, they’d passed the background checks and were talented enough to make it to the second round… but something made her stop short of making a decision between the two.

So now what?

That’s the question.

With a growl, Emerson slammed the car door. Fuck.

Outside the hotel, he stared up at the shiny name. His cheap boots felt out of place against the cobblestone entry, and he tried not to fidget. Instead, he stuck his hands inside his pockets and rehearsed his apology for the two thousandth time.

I’m sorry I called you a spoiled omega.

See? Easy.

Thinking the words was easy. He just hoped he could get his lips to form them with as much enthusiasm.

It was just… it had rubbed him the wrong damned way when she’d asked him out of the blue if he’d like a job. Like he hadn’t just got done putting himself through almost an hour of hell under the stage lights, putting two hundred percent of himself into a god damned set.

Why had she assumed he would be able to drop everything and go on tour? After he’d just finished performing?

I mean… I can. But why did she assume it?

It was like a slap in the face, especially since she’d been scouted at the very same show they’d played.

No. Forget it. That was years ago.

Steeling himself with a deep breath, he surrounded himself with an air of confidence he tried to convince himself to feel. But it was all a facade as he entered the too fancy hotel and followed the signs to the hotel conference hall.

Of course Lyric Ceran would choose the fanciest hotel in Uptown to host the second round of her stupid auditions.

An audition you’re crawling back to beg for.

The reminder made a scowl buckle his brows, and he forcibly smoothed his expression as he walked the halls. Eventually, the sounds of music reached him, and Emerson followed the notes drifting on the air until he found a pair of closed doors. From inside, the impressive playing of a keyboard could be heard, and despite his annoyance with the situation, he smiled.

Damn. Odd could really play those keys.

He waited, hand paused on the door handle, and… he hesitated. Odd really deserved his chance on stage for once, did Emerson dare fuck that up for him?

Before he had a chance to really decide, a shout from the end of the hallway caught his attention.

“Hey! What are you doing here?” a large man asked, a black security shirt pasted across his chest.

In a panic, and before the guard could reach him, Emerson threw the door open, slid inside, and closed it behind him before he threw the lock.

Pounding on the other side immediately followed, and he winced as the music came to a grinding halt.