Page 37 of Yearn

I was a song writer at heart, but in order to get to the next level, I needed to use my looks and voice to grab attention. I’d refused the route for years, but after sitting down with JJ, I realized I may be forced to compromise.

JJ was a music manager who’d been responsible for a few break-out stars. He worked with big companies and had a long list of big record deals and viral sensations. After our meeting, I liked that he saw the same vision for what I could be: Ed Sheeran. Harry Styles. Rob Thomas. The dream was to write for bands like Fallout Boy and Panic at the Disco—pop rock, alternative shit that I could dig into the lyrics. I wasn’t a moody poet sort—I liked the versatility of writing different type songs but JJ said if I started singing with a solid up and coming band, I could get my stuff played. If I wrote them with worldwide pop appeal, I’d be in a better position to sell my songs. On my terms.

But in order to get my name out there and gain leverage, I had to get my ass on stage, front and center.

Even though I despised it.

At least, the two bands I met were a good fit. Yeah, I’d be the outsider since they’d been doing the music circuit together playing other people’s music, but JJ was convinced with my songs, and their talent, we could hit. I didn’t like groups with too many egos, but Unison was super chill and I liked their vibe. The band had a drummer, guitar player, and bassist so there were less egos to deal with.

The goal to cut a demo and book places to play were the key. If I had to whore myself out to the public to get them to listen to the music, I’d do it. I sensed there wouldn’t be another opportunity like this again.

I stretched out my legs and waited for the guys, who were meeting me for coffee. I sipped my Americano and thought about Landon’s comment the other night. She’d seemed upset I’d reverted my position on singing—the only one who seemed to get how big my sell-out was. The others didn’t give a shit. They’d all been vocal about doing whatever was needed to be known—in acting, modeling, or music. We tried to all help each other. Some more than others, though.

Max had gotten a bit pissy that too much time was spent on my shit and quickly pulled back the reins. It never bothered me—I didn’t need the group falling over me—but the way he’d grabbed Landon had made my fists curl. It was hell watching them grind against each other and kiss in front of me when I remembered her looking at me with begging blue eyes and trembling lips. It would take some time for me to disconnect from thinking about her. From wondering if she’d ever be mine.

Now I knew. She’d made her choice and I was going to grit my teeth and respect it. Hanging up on Max had been my last impulse move—I’d called him back later and lied that my phone had died. Then I pretended to be happy for him and Landon.

It was excruciating.

Now, was the time to focus on my music and career. Not a woman who tied me up in knots with want and who dated my best friend. Even though Max’s standards for friendship sucked.

The guys walked in, and we bumped fists in greeting. They ordered their coffees and we sprawled out at the table, casually catching up with shit.

“Did you decide on a band?” Noah asked. He’d been the one most excited for me. Coop and Max were supportive but they got bored if we talked too long about music.

“Yeah, Unison seems the best fit. We’re meeting later to go over contracts.”

Max nodded and bit into an apple cider donut. “Got a lawyer, right? Need to protect yourself.”

“Yeah, she’ll be there, too.”

Cooper grinned. “Sweet stuff, man. If you do an album, can I shoot your cover?”

I laughed. “Not sure how that works but I’ll try. Didn’t you book a shoot for Red?”

“Yeah, they’re trying to piggy back on theVanderpump Rulesseries that blew up, so they want to do a sexy shoot for therestaurant. Max, Landon, and Elle all pushed for me so I got the job.”

“Nice,” I said.

“If Coop’s doing your cover, I’d like to pitch an idea,” Noah said.

Max shook his head. “Dude doesn’t even have a contract and you’re already asking favors.”

Noah shrugged. “That’s what we do. One success can bring us all for the ride.”

“What is it?” I asked.

He shot a look at Cooper before continuing. “Elle’s having issues getting roles. With the strike going on, there’s no new material and things have kind of shut down for her. But if she got to sing with you on a song, it may give her a whole new set of eyes.”

“Like Daisy Jones and the Six, man,” Coop said, grabbing Max’s last piece of donut. “Never thought about it. Kind of brilliant.”

I cocked my head. “Elle’s got a killer voice. But it isn’t about me—I’m the one who needs to fit in with Unison. Who knows if they like the idea.”

“I hear you. But keep it in mind. I had her work on this new song I put together, it’s got an amazing sound. Want to hear the final cut at the studio?”

“You’re being pushy, Noah,” Max drawled, crossing his arms in front of his chest. I studied him, all broody and blonde perfection. Even his scowl of disapproval seemed practiced in the mirror. I was disgusted with his fakeness, but Max had shown up for me many times when I needed. He’d kept me sane on nights I couldn’t sleep; when bad memories crept into my head and pushed me to the edges of madness. He’d stay up and talk for hours to keep my mind clear. He didn’t try to flirt or one-up me when we were hooking up, and always respected who Iwanted and stayed clear. He was generous with his money, and never held it over my head or made me feel disrespected. And when I did open up to him on some things in my past, he kept my secrets tight. He was a guy’s guy through and through.

Noah looked annoyed so I interrupted when he opened his mouth to respond. “No, I think it’s fire. Stop by tomorrow and I’ll take a listen. You sure Elle would be interested, though?”

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