Page 4 of Lyric & the Heartbeats

“Uh, everything okay in there?” an applicant’s voice came through the speaker system.

Lyric choked on her pizza and slammed her hand, smeared with grease, over the button that activated the speaker. She’d forgotten to turn it off after they’d instructed the last applicant to leave.

Andi cackled, carefully pulling her own slice onto a paper plate.

Groaning in embarrassment instead of pizza-ecstasy, she grabbed a napkin and wiped the button off carefully.

Then she got a look at the applicant, and almost swallowed her tongue along with her bite.

He was tall, like really tall. That was the first thing she noticed about him. The second was that he was blushing. Even through the one-sided viewing glass, even against his dark, umber-toned skin, she could see color darken his cheeks as he dutifully focused on the equipment he’d brought with him.

Clearing her throat, she wiped her hand on the napkin before shooting Andi a dirty look and tapping the microphone button again.

“Sorry about that, uhm—” She glanced down at the paper in a panic. “Adra. Thanks for coming. Please continue.”

She pointedly turned the speaker back off and pressed a hand to her own flaming cheeks before ignoring Andi’s stifled cackles.

“Okay then, uhm—I’ve just got a few things to set up, and then I’ll be good,” he said as he began linking cords to synth boards and setting them carefully on stands. He appeared comfortable using their keyboard, but it seemed he’d brought his own.

As he brought them to life, the different colored squares lit up in a rainbow and he nodded as if approving their appearance.

“Anything specific you want to hear?” he asked with a glance toward the wall they were hidden behind. He wouldn’t be seeing anything but his own reflection, and a knot tied itself in his brows before he smoothed his expression, erasing the worry from his dark eyes.

The keyboard was comically small in front of him.

Andi tapped the speaker button first. “Nope, this round is all you. Whatever you want to play.”

“Alright,” he agreed.

His lips moved, whispering something to himself, but the mic couldn’t pick up whatever it was.

Lyric glanced down at his information.

Adra. Alpha. Played synth, piano, and the keyboard. No touring experience, but he had been in a previous band. Reason for leaving…

Lyric stopped short and reread the section again, ignoring the slight hitch in her chest at the word alpha.

“Uh, Andi? Can you work your magic and confirm this?” Lyric tapped the section, and Andi nodded.

He began to play, and Lyric forgot all about applications and complications and whatever embarrassment she’d held onto from the moment before. Adra lost himself in it, pure concentration and joy on his face as his fingers drifted over the keys like feathers. He added in sounds he’d programmed on his synth, and as it came together, Lyric bobbed her head to the music and found herself enjoying what he created. More so than any music she’d listened to in a long while.

“Wow,” Andi echoed her thoughts aloud. “Look at this.”

“Oh. What?” Lyric asked and leaned over to read her computer screen.

“According to the news articles, it’s all true. I heard this story vaguely from a coworker, but never gave it a second thought. Damn. Do you think it’s too much to go hug him?”

Lyric laughed softly. “If you will, I will.”

His last band, comprised entirely of alphas, had found their own omega. She had chosen everyone in the band as part of her pack… all except for Adra. It wasn’t unheard of for an omega to break a pack apart, but as someone who’d been rejected again and again, she couldn’t help the empathy swarming through her. The band breaking up had been big news in the indie music industry, and from the information provided by several articles, he—

Lyric interrupted Andi’s longwinded summary, her heart squeezing. “I don’t feel right listening to all of those details. Just… tell me if he ends up not being a good fit, okay?”

Turning back to the music, Lyric studied his tall, fit form, the slight grin on his face, and the passion he exuded as he played.

“Okay, so what’s wrong with him?” she grumbled, and put his paper in a new stack.

“What’s that pile going to be for?”