Page 20 of 4-Ever

Brodie pushed away from the guy he was kissing, and when he spotted us, he dropped his hot date and made his way through the crowd. Wearing jeans and nothing else, he strutted towards us, partygoers getting out of his way.

When Brodie drew closer, I realized he had what looked like cling wrap tied around his arm. There was a design on his skin underneath it, a clef surrounded by flames.

“Oh my God! You got tatted!” I blurted out.

“Fucking right I did. And I’m about to get lucky with the artist.”

He pointed over his shoulder. Ah yeah, the guy he’d been kissing. He was hot.

“That’s what I want to do. Tonight!” I exclaimed.

“Get lucky? I thought you already did that with Jojo.” Ronin waggled his eyebrows and slapped my ass.

I elbowed him in response.

“I want to get a tatt. Oh, and some piercings.”

“Your first one is on us. Happy fucking Birthday!” Brodie leaned over and hugged me.

Then someone jumped on my back, and I laughed, startled.

“Happy birthday Fozzy!” Holloway shouted in my ear, his beer breath so strong it was nearly toxic.

“Hey, hands off my boo!” Ronin warned him with a teasing grin and a playful shove.

When Holloway finally eased off me, he messed up my hair and then put his arm around Brodie’s neck.

“Pack your bags, bitches, we head out in two days!” Holloway yelled.

Ronin passed us more beers. “I can’t believe it’s really happening.”

“My parents think I’m crazy.” I shook my head.

“Well, we are Wayward Lane,” Brodie replied with a smirk. “And it’s not crazy. Being a musician is all I’ve ever wanted. You guys are the same. We’re following our gut. That can never steer us wrong.”

Despite his sarcastic mouth, Brodie was right.

I had fears, but deep down, I was doing what felt right. Music was everything to me. To us.

We had drive, talent, and passion. But the reality of making a living off our music was a big unknown. We’d played a few gigs this past month in Providence to good crowds. But being popular in our hometown was one thing. Gigging every week in different cities and trying to get noticed by a record label was another.

Not only that, but all four of us were queer. And we weren’t going to hide.

Would that impact our ability to make it?

“To Faise,” Ronin called out, holding up his can of beer. “My best friend, and the best fucking drummer I’ve ever heard! Happy eighteenth birthday and many more!”

We raised ours in turn and I caught Ronin’s stare. His belief in me had me choked up for the second time tonight. Instead of letting my feelings show, I took a sip of my beer.

When he blew me a playful kiss, I shook my head.

Tonight, we had no worries.

Teenage expectations, though, are a funny thing. Did we have what it takes to make our rock ’n’ roll dream come true?

There was only one way to find out.

CHAPTER 6

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