Page 37 of Sixty Days Of Summer

“You’ll be fine, Scarlet,” Xander reassures her. “It’s just sound check. Nothing to stress over. Just treat it like you’ve been doing back home, and you’ll nail it.” He places a reassuring hand on her shoulder, and I can’t help but watch, trying to figure out how the fuck he makes it look so effortless. I attempted the same thing the other day at the airport, and it felt awkward as shit. I guess having Poppy and Alex around has turned him into a pro at this comforting stuff.

She smiles, but it’s not the real deal. It pales in comparison to the genuine joy I saw when Xander and Poppy tied the knot. I’ve witnessed her flash that forced smile too many times, like she’s trying to convince everyone that everything’s okay. But I see right through it—she’s putting up a facade, attempting to make it seem like everything’s fine when it’s clearly not.

“You good, Scar?” Theo asks, grabbing her hand. He’s not buying that fake-ass smile either.

“Yeah,” she says, “I’m fine.”

Xander strides back over, grabs a bottle of water from the table, and shoots me a look as I crunch down on another M&M. “We should probably get out there,” he says. “She needs to be around music, not cooped up in here stressing herself out.”

I stay silent, continuing to munch as I watch him head over to Theo and Scarlet. Setting the bowl back on the table, I grab a bottle of water and trail behind them into the hall.

As Neil leads us toward the stage, I quickly gulp down my water, feeling refreshed and ready. Shouting to be heard over the music, Theo’s up ahead, trying to talk to Scarlet. Once I finish the bottle, I toss it to the side of the aisle. Yeah, I know Kit’s gonna be fucking furious about that—some recycling ruleor something—but I’m not carrying that empty bottle around all night just to find a fucking bin.

We stop at the side of the stage, captivated by the electrifying performance of Disturbed and Twisted—three guys and a chick on bass. She’s got this hot, raw vibe, dark hair, and a canvas of tattoos that run all over her arms and legs. She’s definitely my type, the kind I’d love to get down and dirty with for the night. But that’s never gonna happen. Not just because I’d have to see her every day on this tour, but from what I remember when Walter and his band had drinks with us one night after a show in Australia. I noticed there’s some messy love triangle happening between her, Walter, and the drummer.

Walter is absolutely nailing it as the frontman, and I’m left wondering how this band hasn’t blown up already. If Xander hadn’t wandered into that burger joint, they might still be struggling to get by. It’s pretty damn awesome that we can help make their dreams a reality now that we’ve achieved our own success. I glance over at Xander and catch that big, proud grin on his face. He’s clearly thrilled to give someone else the opportunity to chase their dreams.

When Xander played me that demo from Walter, I thought they sounded solid, but seeing them live is an entirely different experience. They’re absolutely impressive. I’m itching to elevate our label—to give other bands a genuine shot at their dreams. Walter’s band could be the next big thing we sign, and that would seriously bolster our label with some real talent.

Once they finish up, we step onto the stage. Xander makes a beeline for Walter, tossing him a bottle of water he snagged from the shelf by the entrance. Walter's face lights up with a massive grin—he's clearly stoked. They share a few words, and Theo and I drift over, with Scarlet sandwiched between us.

The rest of the band grabs their water bottles by the drum kit. I scan the group, struggling to recall their names butdrawing a blank. My gaze lands on the girl first—no surprise, she's eyeing Xander with keen interest. Then I shift my focus to the lead guitarist; he nods at Theo, then at me, before finally acknowledging Scarlet.

But it’s the prick with the drumsticks who really gets under my skin. The way he’s eyeing Scarlet, his tongue flicking out to wet his lips, sends my blood boiling. I know exactly what’s going through his mind—I’ve been there myself, imagining all the filthy shit he could pull, and how easily he could turn those thoughts into reality. Back in high school, I played those games to get my kicks, but now that I’ve got fame on my side, I can pick and choose who I’m interested in. This guy, though, is clearly plotting how to make Scarlet his next conquest, turning her into just another notch on his bedpost, and I don’t fucking like it.

I’m keeping my cool for now—there’s no need to blow up in front of Scarlet and the rest of the guys. I’ll handle this asshole later, out of earshot. The way he’s holding out his drumsticks towards Scarlet, looking like he’s got some sleazy agenda, is really starting to test my patience.

“Do you need these?” he asks, his eyes glued to Scarlet's tits like a total prick.

I’m ready to step in and set this prick straight, but Theo’s already on it. He slides in front of Scarlet, cutting off the guy’s view, his posture making it clear that he’s not here to play around. “She’s got her own asshole. They’re in her fucking hands, dickhead,” Theo snaps.

I can’t help but grin at that. Theo’s usually the jokester, always the wisecracking asshole, but seeing him like this—protective and dead serious—is a rare sight.

Xander and Walter both turn to assess the situation. Walter wastes no time—he strides over, his eyes scanning the group as he senses the rising tension. “What’s going on?” he demands,shifting his gaze from one person to the next, finally zeroing in on his drummer. “Jack, what the hell’s your issue?”

So that’s the dickhead’s name—Jack. If he keeps pulling this crap, I’d be shocked if he’s still around by the end of the tour.

He smirks, glancing between Theo and Walter. “Just a little misunderstanding, man. The accent might've confused them. You know how it is, Walt,” he adds, shooting a brief look at Theo.

I’m not buying his bullshit for a second. The smug prick thinks he can just brush off what he just pulled, and I don’t fucking like it.

“Just head to the green room,” Walter says, gesturing to the rest of the band. “I’ll join you in a minute. I need to have a quick word with these guys.”

The girl and the guitarist exchange quick nods with Walter, offering us a smile before slipping past. Jack hesitates for a moment, his eyes flicking between us as if he’s weighing his options, but he eventually trails after the rest of the band.

Walter watches them leave, his gaze steady as they disappear down the corridor. Once they’re out of sight, he finally breaks the silence.

"Look, I’m really sorry if anything went down back there," Walter says, his tone genuine. "We truly appreciate the opportunity you’re giving us."

“Just keep your drummer away from Scar, and we won’t have any issues,” I say, the words slipping out before I can think twice. Shit. I realize too late that I just used that name—the one I only use when I'm balls deep inside her. Scarlet’s head whips around, her expression fierce. I scramble to recover, trying to salvage the moment. “What I meant was, all female band members are off-limits. There are plenty of groupies to go around.”

“Yeah, I’ll make sure they get the memo,” Walter replies. He glances over at Scarlet, his expression softening slightly. “I’mreally sorry if Jack made you feel uncomfortable. He can be a real dick sometimes.”

"It's not a problem," Scarlet responds, with a forced smile.

Yeah, fucking hell, it definitely is.

Xander steps in, trying to ease the tension before it gets any more awkward. “So, are you sticking around to watch the show?”

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