Page 21 of Hollow Heart

“And the star arrives...” Eddie scoffs.

“Fuck you, Eddie,” Felix grumbles.

“Enough bickering,” Lou gripes as he brushes off some dust from his suit. “Let’s get this show on the road.” With that, he leaves us in the booth.

The tension in the air is thick as Felix grabs his guitar, nearly falling over. The man is so drunk he can barely stand, and it’s not even ten thirty.

His bandmates don’t seem to give a shit, though, and I realize, they’re probably used to this.

Used to Felix Hart and his careless punk attitude.

But I won’t stand for it. This gig may be a joke to Felix, but it’s not to me, and I’ll be damned if I let him fuck shit up for the rest of us.

I get up from my seat, and walk over to him, which isn’t that far. I reach out, holding him still, and he flinches.

His gaze flashes to mine angrily.

“What the fuck do you want,McKay?”he sneers.

I sling his strap over his shoulder, and he tenses. I look him dead in the eye like I would a snake on my lawn.

He wants to strike. I can tell.

Felix Hart is pissed at the fucking world, and he wants blood.

But I know firsthand that blood doesn’t satisfy the hole you’re trying to fill.

“Cut this shit out, Felix. You’re embarrassing yourself and your bandmates.”

Felix angles his arm away from me, gripping his guitar.

“What do you care, McKay? You’re just the stand in.”

A part of me flinches internally, knowing he’s right. I am just the stand in.

But I also recognize someone in mourning, someone who’s so hurt they think they have nothing, and no one.

Strangely, a part of me wants to scream from the rooftop, “Me too, asshole! The world fucked me, too, I get it!”

That same part wants to give the drunk, bright-eyed Goth Ken doll a hug. To tell him to pull it together forhimself. His fans, his music. But I push those thoughts down, instead, settling on something much less scary.

“I may not be Sullivan Reign, but you are Felix Hart. So start fucking acting like the four times platinum, 2023 Grammy winner you fucking are instead of acting like some tweaked out garage band idiot.”

Felix stares up at me with shimmering blue eyes, his eyebrows furrowed, and for a minute, I forget he’s drunk.

Because for the sheer whisper of a moment, I sympathize with him.

My gaze dips to his lips, noting the tremble in them.

He wasn’t that much older than I was when the fame hit him, and I understand all too well how it can warp you.

This life, it’s not for the faint of heart. It will eat you up and spit you out, if you’re not careful.

His breath is warm on my skin, and I realize how close we are. The tension in the room is thick.

I drop my hands as his body relaxes, as his fist eases up on his guitar.

And for a moment, when he looks at me, I think he actually gets it.

---