“Get your shit together, Felix. You have an audition,” Lou says as he tosses my pants at me. “To replace the one thatleft.”
Rude.
I roll my eyes, laughing because his face looks like a purple plum.
“And of course, you’re fucking high.” Lou rolls his eyes as he shoves my nameless suitor out the door.
“I’m not high, I’mfantastic.”I sneer, as I stumble into my jeans.
Lou glares at me.
“We need to find a replacement or you will be off this fucking tour, Felix. For once, can you just take things seriously?”
I scoff at him as I buckle my belt. My cock goes soft.
Fuck, I didn’t even get to come.
I nip my teeth at him. “I am the headliner, Lou. There is no show withoutFelix Hart.”
Lou grabs me by the back of the neck.
“You ain’t going to have a career either, asshole, if you don’t get your shit together. You know the label said this was it. Don’t piss this away, Felix. Be smart, for once in your life.”
I claw at his rough hands as he drags me through the hallway.
Lou is old school.
He’s been in the business since the eighties, and I’ve heard the stories.
I squirm out of his hold as we brush past Palo and Ted. I see a man in the sound booth, headphones on, getting in the groove. Corpse and Eddie take their spots, looking as disinterested as always.
The lights on the new guy are harsh, making his tanned skin look almost golden in the light. He’s not muscular by any means, like Sully.
Sully...
I shut down the thought before it can infect me.
God, where did that idiot who was sucking my cock go?
I didn’t want to think about Sully and his bitch ass cowardice.
He walked away from this band.
From me.
The drummer looks up, big brown eyes full of shock as Lou opens the door. He pulls down his headphones.
“Duncan, this is Felix Hart,” Lou introduces us.
My gaze roves over Duncan’s arms, settling on his sleeveless Jack Daniels shirt. His skin is deep and rough, the corners ofhis eyes tight with creases. Gray flecks of hair highlight his dark beard and around his ears. He holds out his hand to me.
“Felix, this is Duncan McKay, drummer of?—”
“Hollow Pointe,” I drawl. I know who he is.Hollow Pointeis Sully’s favorite band. He practically idolized the guy growing up.
“In the flesh. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Hart,” he says politely, and I sneer.
“I fucking hateHollow Pointe.” I mewl in disgust, rolling my eyes.