Page 154 of Before Now

Foster’s voice returns, low and gritty, the cadence hypnotizing. “Man sees their counterpart in the wolf. In the wild, a wolf moves to remain alive, chasing prey, fighting for their place in the pack. For us, the movement comes from fear of being left behind. Our chase is for purpose. Our fight to find somewhere we belong. Like the wolf, we stay restless to survive, knowing nothing is ever promised. We stay hungry, which is how we’re most alike. And it’s that endless hunger that shapes the lives both of men and wolves.”

The audio ends after the band has taken the stage, so only the projection of Foster, Dev, and Felix in the music store remains. I take off my headphones to listen to the audio already overlayed with the clip. The roar of the crowd, and then Adams North says, “Tell me how y’all are doin’ tonight.” More screams. “No better place to be, right?”

After three beats from Felix on the drum and Foster’s first note, I pause the clip, leaving it zoomed in on Projector Foster and his guitar.

I audibly sigh and crash back into my chair, a squeeze in my chest. He’s so ideal I ache.

“For fuck’s sake. Wipe the drool, Sinner.” Heath’s behind my chair, hovering above me, and I tip my face up to see him. “He’s at least subtle with his obsessing.”

As he walks away, I swivel in my chair. “What does that even mean?”

He grunts and wiggles his fingers at me to follow him to his setup of monitors. I roll my chair over and plop beside him in his, and he immediately grabs my armrest to push me farther away.

“You’re too sweet to me,” I say dryly.

“I’ll correct that starting now.” He opens a folder of video files and selects the one of the writing session in Seattle when Foster wore the glasses. “I was bored out of my mind last week, so I started reviewing older footage to see if anything has a new look. Jasmine pointed this out, and unfortunately for me, I couldn’t unsee it.”

After Heath skips about five minutes in, Foster’s view shifts as he grabs the neck of his acoustic. Once he settles back, his head turns so we can see into the viewing area through the glass. Colton’s slumped in a chair, talking to Christian in another, and I’m in a third, scrolling on my phone.

My questioning eyes shift to the director, and before I say anything, he makes an irritated sound and switches to a different video. Another of Foster from late October when Christian demanded he wear the glasses on stage in Wyoming. Heath speeds through it until the shot moves from the crowd to the side.

To me and my camera.

The dressing room. He looks up when I walk in and follows me through the room as I set down my bag. The shot settles on Felix and his sticks, but the angle keeps me and my skirt in frame the entire time.

Heath opens a fourth file.

“How are you remembering all of these? Did you make a list of file names?”

He huffs. “Like I care that much.” His eyes dart to me like I’m not getting it. “It’s a safe bet if he’s wearing the glasses or using a cam, you make an appearance. I’ve also caught him watching you from the other two’s perspectives. All angsty and pining.”

My smile slowly grows, but with Foster it feels like it could stay forever. Always.

“And now you’re doing the dopey thing too.” Heath leans back in his chair, finger pressed to his temple. “It makes sense he’d go after you. When we met last year, one of the first things he did was praise your work.”

The comment takes a second to register, and then it landshard. “Last year?”

He glances over. “He was at the party you skipped in LA last spring.”

I immediately know the one he means because it’s theonlyone I missed. “I didn’t skip it. I was sick.”

“Whatever,” he says dismissively. “He mentioned the scene in the Scars&Stars music video where the camera circled the drummer with the rain falling, and the water bounced with every hit of the sticks?—”

“My scene?”

“Everything that happens on my set is mine, Sinner.” He hesitates and forces out, “But I was drunk and might have accidentally given you credit.” An annoyed grunt. “And maybe said Remi Sinner is the only name to watch.” Pause. “And you’d take my spot one day.”

“You…” I shake my head a little to clear it and try again. “You told Adams about me nearly ten months ago?”

He nods, reaching for his phone, likely to avoid the other stuff he told me. And we aredefinitelycircling back to it once I get past this part. Foster knew I worked with Heath before the documentary—then I remember the label told Heath when they first floated the idea to the band, they pushed his name as someone they’d want. For his style.

“Can you do whatever you’re doing anywhere other than my desk, Sinner?” He nudges my chair with his foot and sits forward, grabbing his mouse. “I’m not drunk right now, so I don’t particularly like you.”

I stand to roll my chair away. “Careful, or I’ll stop holding back and overtake you tomorrow. What was it you said? I’m theonlyname to watch?”

His lips perk. “Ha. Fuck off.”

Concerned end-times are upon us, I abruptly stop. “Did you just … chuckle?”

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