Page 21 of Fallen Princess: Shadow Stalker

“That’s exactly what I told him,” Callum says with another shit-eating grin that I’d like to wipe off his face. “I told him on the way here, you’re too far up your fitness bum leggings to remember how to string a guitar note, let alone sing a tune. You’d never agree to return to music.”

I sneer at my brother. “You know nothing about what I’d do.”

“So it’s something you’d be willing to explore?” Jagger asks, eagerly surprised.

“Of course not,” I reply quickly. “Why would you think I’d be even remotely interested in going back to a life that nearly destroyed us?”

I finally observe my brother more carefully. He’s grown his hair since we last saw each other, and although it’s blonde like mine, it’s styled unruly, with some of the ends dyed in a red color that’s now partially faded. He’s got two new eyebrow piercings and finished the scorpion neck ink he started years ago. Both his hands are inked as well.

If he’s trying to look like ahas-beenrocker, he’s certainly achieved it.

“Well,nearlydestroyed us,” I elaborate, giving my brother a dismissive glance. “Can’t really speak on his behalf.”

Callum huffs a sarcastic laugh, but I know I pulled a chord with his nerves. Rather than spit out some insult to me, he turns to the other two, dismissing me.

“Told you he wouldn’t even give you the time of day. Brother dearest lost his thrill; must be all those milkshakes he’s been drinking.”

“Protein shakes, you bellend,” I say, but I know Callum’s only trying to rile me up. I don’t even know why I bother with him.

“Because we were kids back then,” Jagger ignores my sibling tiff. “Teenagers with a dream, and we didn’t get to achieve it because we were too young and immature to deal with our problems. Music was always in your blood, just as it was in ours. I know you’re doing well with your fitness empire, and we’re proud of you.”

Jagger’s eyes gleam with a mixture of determination and a subtle plea as he leans forward.

The silence between us speaks volumes, carrying the weight of a decade's worth of missed chords and unsung lyrics.

“Haze,” Asher begins, his voice a low hum in the room. "Do you remember the days when our music echoed through every vein in our body? The energy, the passion, the raw magic we created together?"

My gaze softens, memories of those vibrant jamming sessions flood back. This room seems to reverberate with the ghostly echoes of our shared past.

“Those were the days, mate,” Asher continues, a wistful smile playing on his lips. "We were unstoppable. The stage was our playground, and the music was our language. It wasn't just about the fame or the crowds; it was about the love for the music, the friendship we shared."

I sigh a mixture of nostalgia and regret lingering in the air.

“Things changed, Ash. Life happened.”

"Life happened, but the music is still alive in us," Jagger insists. I watch Asher’s fingers idly strumming the table. "I can't shake the feeling that there's more music left in us, more stories to tell. The world needs to hear it, Haze, and I can't imagine creating it with anyone else but you lads."

"We were more than just a band," Jagger presses on. "We were friends, brothers bound by the love for music. I miss those moments, those spontaneous jam sessions where everything just clicked. Don't you miss it too?"

A glimmer of longing flashes in my chest. The memories of our shared laughter, the thrill of a perfectly executed riff, and the unspoken understanding between musical kindred spirits stir within me.

"Let's give it one more shot, Haze," Jagger urges, his voice earnest. "Not for the fame or the fortune, but for the love of the music, the memories we cherish, and the potential of creating something beautiful once again."

The room seems to hold its breath, waiting for my reply as my decision lingers.

“You talking about the original Sonics? Because I don’t think—”

“Nah,” Jagger interrupts. “New group, new songs, our way this time. The five of us.”

I take a deep breath at the number he’s just mentioned as my eyes widen. The memory of a name that belongs to a ghost of my past I’d rather forget.

“You’ve seenher?”

They know who I’m referring to as I see all three men grimace at the same time.

“No,” Jagger replies with pursed lips. “None of us know where she is. But I have a plan. If we’re going to approach her, it’s better if we do it together. This time, it’s all professional; we’re all grown-ups, aware of the mistakes we made.”

“Why would you even want to include her after what she did?” I stare at him with a subtle eye roll, unwilling to go down that particular memory lane.

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