Page 23 of Lyric & the Heartbeats

“You can check out with the security guards at the door.”

Oh yeah, the guards. The beating on the door had eventually stopped, but as the first bassist unlocked and opened the door, they almost ran him over as they rushed into the room.

Andi tapped her shoulder as she walked forward to let them know everything was alright.

Adra and Emerson joined the two other remaining candidates. Once the door shut behind the guards, she faced each of them.

Turning to Emerson first, she tried not to scowl. “I need a bassist,” she stated, and ignored the huff of annoyance from Andi. “And despite your attitude… you’re very talented. So…”

She took a deep breath. “If you can be nice,” she said with a twitch of her lips, “I’d love for you to join us on tour.”

His shoulders noticeably relaxed, and the smile that crossed his lips was halfway sincere. “I would like that. Truly. And thank you for not dismissing Odd.”

“Odd, huh?” she asked, and faced her soon to be keyboardist.

“Adra, but yes. It’s a nickname,” he said, cheeks flushing.

“I’ll stick with Adra,” she replied with a smile. “And that’s how I’ll introduce you on stage, if that’s okay.”

His lips parted in a wide smile, his teeth gleaming. “Yes. Absolutely,” he agreed, nodding eagerly.

Nohen was staring at her, excitement barely concealed in the fingers tapping against his guitar, and Desi was glaring daggers at Emerson, her hands twisting the sticks together.

“That means I’ll need a lead guitarist,” she said with a soft smile at Nohen. He beamed, clutching the neck of the guitar so tightly she wondered if he’d break it.

“Seriously? I promise never to be late again. Holy shit,” he breathed, and wiggled a finger under the neck of his collar.

Lyric chuckled and turned to Desi. “And a drummer,” she finished without hesitating. She knew in her heart who she wanted on the raised stage, carrying the band one beat at a time.

Desi took a short, deep breath before nodding once. “I’d love that.”

The smile that curled Lyric’s lips was genuine, uncontrollable. Excitement bubbled in her veins and spilled over like a popped champagne bottle.

“Then we have a band,” she said simply, trying to contain it.

“Will you excuse me for a moment?” Desi inquired, a matching smile on her face.

“Of course,” Lyric agreed.

Desi’s smile didn’t fade as she turned and walked all the way across the room, shoulders back, head high. She unlocked the door, and it closed behind her with a loud clang.

“Yes, yes, yes!” Desi shouted outside the doors. “Take that, motherfucker!”

Lyric couldn’t contain her chuckle, and finally, the excitement burst. Her laugh exploded as pure happiness filled her chest. The weight fell from her shoulders, and in that moment, she felt like she could float.

Oh, it was less than perfect. She had an asshole alpha for a bassist, and a security risk of a keyboardist, even if his heart was in the right place. On the bright side, she also had an enthusiastic lead guitarist—even though his time management could use some work—and a very excited drummer.

As Desi returned, no hint of her outburst except the beaming smile, and rejoined the group, Lyric beamed.

The band’s all together, she thought warily.

Two weeks. Three hundred and thirty-six hours. Twenty thousand minutes. One-point-two million seconds.

It sounded like a lot. But as each minute passed and the kickoff of the tour drew nearer, Lyric’s anxiety swelled higher.

But she wasn’t only nervous. She was excited. Thrilled. More on the edge of her seat than when she’d released her first album.

Time passed quickly, chaotically. Her hours were filled with rehearsals and approving everything from the final stage designs to the outfits they’d wear each night. The design team ultimately made the final calls, but thankfully they took her desires to heart.