Page 39 of Her Dark Angel

My eyes nearly bulge out of my head. Leaning forward, I don’t take my eyes off Mandy. “Are you being fucking serious? Do you think we can sell out that stadium without any notice for when tickets go on sale?”

Mandy nods, her eyes looking around the table at the four of us. “Yes. I do. Nash, the demand for Dark Angel in the past three weeks has been unlike anything we’ve ever seen. You think the band was popular before, well… that was nothing compared to what you are now.”

I lean back in the chair and blow out a long breath. “Well, fuck me.”

The little devil did this. But how? What is it about her that everyone loves so much? Enough to gain this much attention and demand for Dark Angel. I mean, she is beautiful, don’t get me wrong, and she knows how to get what she wants. But how did she make this happen in just three weeks?

My heart involuntarily swells with warmth at the thought of Kinsley making this possible.

“Holy shit,” Hudson breathes from beside me, his eyes wide. “This is bat shit crazy.”

“Crazy is one word for it,” Luca says, swallowing hard. “So, what does this mean, Mandy?”

Mandy shuffles some papers around in front of her before looking between us and James. “It means you need to get in the studio and prepare a setlist for the show. It’s one night only, so make it count because it’s going to be a sellout. And if possible, include a song off the new record as a surprise for the fans.” She stands from her chair and makes a move to leave but hesitates. I lift my eyes to meet her brown ones, and she smiles. “Make sure you bring the girl with you, okay?”

We sit in stunned silence as Mandy leaves the room, closing the door behind her with ease as if she didn’t just drop a fucking bomb on us. My mind is racing a million miles per minute as I try to process what the fuck just happened.

“Well,” James clears his throat, fixing the neckline of his suit jacket, “I guess we better start preparing for the show.”

“Do you really think we can sell it out?” Luca asks. I see the self-doubt creeping over his features, and I’m sure the rest of us mirror his emotions. “I mean… it just seems so far-fetched, you know? We have never played at a venue that large before.”

“What makes the label think we can sell out that stadium with a week's notice?” The stress and uncertainty is clear in Axel’s voice.

“The girl,” James says simply, meeting my eyes.

I inhale a deep breath and close my eyes. A feeling of dread and uncertainty washes over my body, which is a sign that I’m feeling overwhelmed and panicked. It’s not a feeling I’m unfamiliar with. It’s something that tends to take over when a major event happens in my life. It’s been that way since I was a kid.

At first, I would deal with it by taking a long, hot shower and listening to music. But as I got older, I fought the feeling with drugs and alcohol. Nothing else was working and it was the first thing I turned to.

Now, as the idea of having to put together a fucking show in one week settles heavily on my shoulders, and the sense of dread that comes with that kind of pressure, all I can think about is the two things that comfort me the most—Jack Daniels and blow.

You’re a failure, Nash.

You will never find success.

No one will ever love you.

I run a hand through my curls and tug on the roots. “Fuck,” I curse as a bite of pain shoots across my scalp.

I wish the voices in the back of my mind would shut the fuck up. Now is not the time for them to rear their heads. They enjoy seeing me suffer. They get off on reminding me of the memories of my childhood. They fucking love seeing me in pain.

Sensing my distress, James turns in his seat to face me. “Nash, it’s going to be okay. All you need to do is focus on the setlist and I’ll handle everything else, okay? Everything is going to be all right.”

I nod, although I’m not really listening to him. All I can focus on is the rushing in my ears and the hammering of my heart as I feel myself crumbling inward, desperate for a breath of fresh air.

Fuck.

After the meeting with James and Mandy, I went straight home and chugged nearly half a bottle of Jack Daniels. It was the only way to calm the storm brewing deep inside of me.

How the fuck are we supposed to prepare for a concert in one week? Mandy is batshit crazy if she thinks this is a good idea.

Yes, Dark Angel has some of the most loyal and dedicated fans, but is that enough to sell out the damn Memorial Coliseum with one week’s notice? I sure fucking hope so. I would hate to look out at empty seats where fans should be. It would be a reminder that we fucking failed, and I can’t have that happen.

I lean my head back on the couch and close my eyes. A half-empty bottle of Jack Daniels is in my right hand and a lit cigarette is in the other.

For the first time in who knows how long, I told Johnny to leave for the night because I needed to be alone. It’s not something I’m used to or enjoy doing since I like to be around people—it helps to distract me—but after the bomb that was dropped on me today, I needed some time to think it over.

I have been sitting like this on the couch since I returned home four hours ago, wallowing in self-pity. I hate getting lost in my thoughts because it’s dangerous territory. My mind is not a good place for me because it influences me to do things I probably shouldn’t, and over the years I’ve had to learn to keep away from it as much as possible. Having people in my space helps with that, but now… I’m fucking freefalling into the darkest depths of my mind and I’m worried about what I might do.

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