Page 31 of Don't Bang a Bandmate

Knox scoffs, already done with this. “Piss off, Shock.”

To my surprise, Logan bows his head. “As you wish,” he says, stepping back with Tesla and Goldie. “But I truly think we can help each other. Somebody has to stop Paul Monroe.”

With that, The Electrics turn around and makes their way down the aisle toward the exit.

We all look at each other, Logan’s final words cutting deep enough to trigger second thoughts in some of our eyes. Sure, it was the verbal equivalent of click-bait, but we’re all human.

And we all fucking hate Paul Monroe.

Urged by Harmony’s big and curious gaze, Knox releases a sigh and says, “Shock.”

The three of them pause at the doors and turn back around.

“What’s your beef with Monroe?” Knox asks.

“Well,” Logan says, lingering in place, “he’s an asshole.”

“No shit. What else?”

Logan cracks a smile and begins walking toward us again, with Tesla and Goldie close behind. “Two months ago, we were called into a meeting with the head of our record label back home in New York.”

“Sugar Sound?” Chrissy asks.

He nods.

“So what?” Knox asks, annoyed.

Logan shoots him a look, but only seems merely amused by his impatience. “We thought it was just a formality,” he continues. “Our tour was about to begin, so we figured we had plans to finalize and documents to sign. In and out and off we’d go. But when we got there, Paul Monroe was there, too.”

I shift forward and sit down on the edge of the stage, the start of this story intriguing enough to get comfortable for. Logan keeps an eye on me as I move. Then he and the girls do the same, sitting down in the front row seats side-by-side.

“We all sat down,” Logan says as he sits, “greeted one another, and then Monroe told us all about you.”

“Me?” Knox asks.

“Criminal Records,” he says. “Harmony, too. Your history together. Your upcoming tour. Your fake romance. All of it.”

“Okay,” Jonah says. “So, why was Monroe leaking information about us to you?”

“To sabotage you,” Logan says. “Why else?”

“Why would he want to sabotage the most popular band on his label?” Addison asks.

“Because Paul Monroe, the head of Midnite Music, recently accepted a job as the chief executive officer of Sugar Sound.”

We all glance at each other, our brows furrowed in confusion.

“Monroe is the new CEO of Sugar Sound?” Chrissy asks.

“Yes.”

“That’s bullshit,” Knox says. “We’d know that by now.”

“The deal was done behind closed doors,” Logan says. “It hasn’t been announced, nor leaked, because as part of Monroe’s cushy new contract, he has to burn your house down on his way out.”

We all silently regard each other with disbelief, though nothing he’s said so far seems outside the realm of possibility.

“That’s where we came in,” Logan continues in our silence, briefly running a hand through his dark blond hair. “They told us to do everything we could to taint your tour with bad press. They wanted it to look real. A natural fall from grace while we dominated the charts instead.”

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