Page 4 of Electric Touch

“Your bullshit attitude.”

I glare at him. Some people are twitchy around Declan since he got out of the hospital. He’d been in a car crash, which almost killed him when he chased after his girlfriend, who left him. It transpired he’d cheated on her.

That is a massive bone of contention for me, I don’t condone cheaters, but he’s suffered enough. We had a long and heated discussion about the situation. I’d let it go because he is a good friend and remorseful over what he did. He almost died, Declan had months of rehab and was in constant pain. He came back on board with us but Dec is darker than before. There is something more behind the pain, he won’t speak about it, and I don’t push him.

Declan has been our manager from the start. He was an assistant manager for Bliss Records when we first met and approached us about becoming our representation. We struck up a short-term arrangement to see how things went. Declan confided it was a trial for him, too, he was supposed to prove himself to Bliss. So it was within his best interests to get us all the way and we started working together before his accident.

It screwed shit up for us big time after it. While he was off, Bliss wasn’t interested in continuing with us. It was another kick in the teeth when we’d been getting somewhere, instead, we fell back to doing our own tours, promoting ourselves. All while finding alternative employment to keep our asses fed and housed. When he came back, he came back hard and determined.

It was Declan who got us our first EP contract. He got a proper tour rolling, booked us on as opening acts for bigger bands. Through him, we got to meet Archer Harris, the guitarist in BreakNeck, and one of my heroes. From that, he hooked us up with Kono and Jasper Productions. They polished us up, revamped our image and sound. The rest, as they say, is history.

“Shit,” Declan groans, adjusting his position.

I try not to stare as he gets comfortable. There is a long scar down the side of his face, bisecting his eyebrow. I’ve heard chicks say it gives him character, but Declan is self-conscious. Regardless of the scar, he is a good-looking guy, objectively speaking. I’ve not seen him with another woman since the accident.

“I didn’t mean that,” he adds with a chuckle. “I get it man, I do. You know I’ve been where you are, albeit as the guilty party. Shit didn’t hurt, no less.” He glances away.

“I said I’d continue working with her for the good of the band. I meant it.”

“But are you able to?”

I scowl at him.

“From where I’m standing, it looks like you’re not dealing with it, Nash.”

I grimace and turn away, looking across the street to the surrounding skyscrapers. NYC is a far cry from Durham, North Carolina. Even though my home city is huge, it is nothing compared to this place. I fucking love it here and don’t want to mess things up for Red Alert.

Declan made it clear if I made the choice to let her stay, I have to live with it. My brother was pissed when he found out what Riley did. He is two years younger than me, and been an integral part of mine and Riley’s lives. We grew up together, so it is hard for him too. Their relationship is strained and he can’t hold a conversation longer than two minutes with Riley now.

Ciro doesn’t give a shit one way or the other about my failed relationship. All he cares about is not screwing up. He is the oldest in the band and has been trying to break into the mainstream for years, the only person he is interested in is Alessa. The rest of us, I swear he could take or leave. But he will not let me ruin things. How it got to be my fault if things go to shit, I don’t know. We had many band meetings after the disaster of me finding out she was seeing someone else.

“It’s shit, man. I get it. And telling you to suck it up and move on won’t help. You guys have history. It’s never easy seeing the person you love with someone else.” He looks away.

His ex lives in New Jersey now. I’d been friends with her when she was with Dec. We lost contact a long time ago.

“There are a lot of bands who’ve had members that didn’t get along, but are still successful,” Dec points out.

“I don’t want that for us. The tension will eventually snap.”

He shrugs. “I haven’t forgotten this isn’t down to you, even if some others have.”

I appreciate him saying that.

“Whatever happens, you can’t fuck this up. It’s shit, and you have every right to be pissed. The only way you get through this is to focus on what is important.”

“Music videos?”

“It’s an integral part of the machine. We have the apartment for the rest of the day. After that, it goes into added costs and the label will be pissed, we need to knock this out in the next few hours. Once it’s over, you guys have a couple of weeks for yourselves.”

Yeah, Riley is going to the Bahamas with her asshole new boyfriend. I roll my eyes, my outlook on the situation needs to change. I won’t spend the next two weeks wondering what they are doing, it will drive me fucking nuts. I also can’t be the cause of money coming out of our pay checks to finance any overruns.

“What are your plans?” I ask, leaning my back against the wall. Declan blows smoke away from me, then stamps the half-smoked joint out and pockets it.

“I don’t get the time off, asshole,” he points out. “I have other bands on my roster. You’re not the only dickheads I babysit.”

“But we’re the most entertaining.”

“The biggest pain,” he grumbles, getting to his feet, he grabs his cane. His hip was badly damaged by the accident, he’d had many surgeries, but will never have full mobility. Declan defied the odds though and didn’t let himself end up wheelchair bound. “Let’s get this shit over with. Then you can go off and do whatever the fuck you like for two weeks. Then regroup. If we need to have more chats about group dynamics, shit, I guess I can referee it.”

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