Page 112 of Down Beat

Emery clears his throat behind us; the look on Rick’s face is fucking priceless. You’d think I just announced that I’m taking an oath of sobriety, with the way he seems shocked. As far as he knew, I asked Tabby here for her musical prowess only, but I guess the cat’s out of the bag now.

“What?” I take a step toward him, eyes narrowed just to fuck with the guy.

“Nothing.” He backs up, hands raised. “I’ll wait for you here. We’ll head out after you get back.”

“Come on.” Toby rushes for the door, shrugging his coat high around his vibrant hair. “We haven’t got time to fuck around.”

The walk to the coffee shop creates enough tension to rival Toby’s snare. Tabby inserts herself between us as we head out the hotel entrance, seeming to feel the need to do so to defuse the situation.

“So.” She looks between the two of us with a tight-lipped smile. “You guys nervous about the new album going live?”

Kitty, kitty, kitty.… Bless her heart, but small talk doesn’t crack my stubborn-ass brother.

“A little,” Toby answers. “You must know what it’s like when you share a new piece; the worry that you won’t measure up to what you’ve produced before.”

Fuck me gently… she’s done it. She split the stone wall that is Toby.

“Totally.” Tabby smiles, her whole fucking face lighting up as she engages in conversation with my brother.

I watch the two of them interact as we make our way down the street to the nearest Starbucks. She has him wrapped around her little finger, pulling smiles and laughs from him without seeming to even try.

I hate it.

I thought that she only made me feel like that. I thought that charm of hers was for me alone. But the realization that she treats everyone the same way? It burns a little.

Fuck it. Okay. A lot.

Maybe I’m not as special to her as I thought?

“What are you having?” I rip her from the inane conversation they’re in about childhood pets—how you go from music to that in the space of five minutes, I don’t even know.

“One of those, I think.” She points to a sign displaying a limited time frap deal. “But I can get it.”

“Doesn’t mean you have to.” I step up to the counter to order, adding Toby’s usual to the tail end.

Olive branch and all that shit. A coffee today, and maybe he’ll have a beer with me tomorrow.

“Rey Thomas.”

Fuck.

“And Toby. Holy shit.” The short little guy to my right pushes up on his toes to call out across the entire fucking shop, “Margot. Check it out!”

He hitches a thumb at me and Toby, the look on his face telling me we’re in for it. I love the fans, I really do. But fuck, man, can I get my coffee first?

“We’re coming to the show tonight,” he tells me as Tabby takes a step back to watch the shit go down.

“Cool, man. Glad to have you there.” My smile is the same bullshit one I’ve used for years.

I’ve used it so often that people actually believe it to be genuine. I mean, when it’s how I look all the time, why wouldn’t it be? Right?

He hesitates as though waiting for one of us to announce he’s won the backstage pass lottery. “Yeah. It’s an anniversary treat for Margot. I can’t believe we’ve crossed paths, man.”

“Congratulations on the anniversary,” Toby chips in, taking the heat off me long enough that I can pay for the coffees.

“Thanks.” The guy’s gaze flicks to Tabby, and I see it go down in the droop of his brow. He’s lined up the equation, he’s doing the math, and it’s only a matter of time. “I saw you on YouTube.”

Fuck.

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