Page 61 of Omega Rock

My stomach drops lower. “I… uh, how did you know?”

“News travels fast,” Mom says although she doesn’t quite hide the disappointment in her tone. I have to wonder if Sable told them, but I don’t think she would without my permission unless they asked where I’ve been. Which would require them notice me being more missing than normal to begin with.

Dad then asks the question I’ve been dreading ever since we left town for the first tour stop. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

I take a deep breath and watch my reflection in the mirror. Do I tell them the truth or lie? I shake my head. “Honestly, I figured you wouldn’t approve.”

“Honey…” Mom says.

“No, let’s be real.” A sudden confidence comes over me although I have no idea from where. Maybe it’s finally being out on the road doing something I love, or having found a pack, but it blooms quick. “Neither of you approve of this life. This style of music. But I’mgoodat it and I’m having fun. That should be all that matters.”

“And thatdoesmatter,” Mom says.

“But?” I ask as it certainly sounds like there will be one.

I hear the pack’s footfalls around the tour bus. They’re off getting ready too for our set in an hour.

Leo appears in the hallway with a questioning glance my way. “We’re heading out to the ready area. Are you good?”

I put my hand over my phone and say, “Just taking a call. You guys go on ahead, I’ll meet you there.”

He nods, collects the others, and they start heading out. I’m sure I’ll catch up with them soon. This conversation was sure to be quick.

“Frankly, Mia,” Dad interjects in his professor voice so I know I’m screwed. It snaps me back to the conversation after the tour bus door shuts behind my alphas. “I’m not sure how you’re even there. Or where Wes got the money from, as since you’re a filler band I can surely say your band wasn’t paid as much as the others. Plus a tour bus to every stop on the tour. Are you making anything off this?”

I nearly slam the phone down on the small counter. “It’s not about the money! It’s never been.”

“You need to take that into account though?—”

“Yes, Mom, I’m aware life costs money.” My tone is far more dry and frustrated than I should let it be with them. But my parents just don’t understand. They never have.

Dad speaks over Mom. “It’s not about the fame either, though, is it? I’ve seen videos, Mia. The band’s not well-received, and your music is…” He stops short of saying it. He doesn’t need to. Dad must be referring to videos of our first show, the one that went entirely sideways.

Unfortunately for them I’ve got another one to prepare for. “As fun as this is, I need to go. Thank you for checking in. I’m doing great and so is the band. But I do miss you both and home. You should come out to the last show, it’s only a few hours from home. I love you both!”

“Mia,” Dad cuts in. “You can still come home. We can get an application through at Juilliard quickly and?—”

“No,” I say firmly despite the tears brimming in my eyes. “I’m already doing what I want to do. Whether you both support it or not is up to you. I don’t want Juilliard. But I do have to go.”

“Mia,” Dad says, “if you don’t come home, you’re cut off. We can’t financially support this. And that you’re touring with Noah Smith of all people…”

This.He says it like touring in a rock band is the most despicable thing ever. To a classically trained music professor, I suppose it might be. And then the comment about Noah. I never heard from DadorNoah exactly why he was kicked out of Juilliard. Noah had mentioned his partying and “bad behavior,” but he’d not given any specifics.

Still, all of this matters so much to me. I’m not going to stop, especially now.

So I shrug in the mirror. “Then that’s it, I guess. I’m cut off.” I inhale a shaky breath. “You know, all I wanted was for you both to be proud of me I’m still doing music, just not how you wanted. But it’s still music craft. But I’ve got a show soon and I do need to be ready. I hope to see you at the last tour stop.”

I hang up before they can argue. I don’t want to talk anymore. At this point, I hardly want to leave this room. Somehow I have to get off this shitty vibe and perform soon, but within this small conversation doubts have been planted that I’m not sure I can shake. If I leave now, maybe I can catch up to my alphas and rescue today.

Tears fall down my cheeks. I carefully dab them away without ruining my make-up. Once I’m finally ready for the show I text Sable:Hey girl. My parents found out about the band and Knotty Tour. It didn’t go well. I’m cut off. I told them about the last tour stop being close to home and hope they show up. But honestly today has been utter shit and I’m wondering if they’ve been right all along. Just wanted to update you. I hope you’re well!

It takes Sable all of ten seconds to read and reply:Screw ‘em. They don’t see how you’ve blossomed with Exit Fate—but they will. So ignore them for now but know they love you. They’re proud of you even if they won’t say it. They’re your parents after all. Love you, girl.

I text her back.Love you, too. And I hope they are proud.

To be fair, there are a ton of reasons for them to worry. But just one reason to be proud: Their daughter is doing what she loves. Isn’t that enough?

I head out into the main space of the tour bus and am nearly out the door when another figure steps onto the first step of the stairs onto the bus. I back up a step, thinking it’s one of my alphas or Wes even, but it’s not.

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