Page 26 of One More Song

I knew musicians were bad news, but these guys are no musicians.

These guys are rock stars.

They’re Absinthe.

Chapter Ten

Ash

The fight has been brewingfor months. Ever since the video leaked, three women and me, in a hotel room, coke on the table and all of us high as a fucking kite. Rock stars get reputations for a reason. Me? I’m the mother fucking poster boy.

I could give the guys my excuses. My dad’s suicide hit me in a bad way and my ma never gave me boundaries. My heart was empty, I was trying to fill the void, the blackness swallowing me whole. We dropped an album that everyone seemed to think was total shit and I went on a bender. The rest is history.

But Synn, Dusky, and Saint deserve more than my excuses. In the end, I messed up and they are the ones who paid the price.

“Are you just hoping we forget it ever happened?” Saint asks. “Like if we go long enough without talking about it, everyone will just forget?”

“What do you want me to say?” I ask, running a hand through my hair. Yes, I want to fix things with them, but another part of me - a big part of me - is thinking about Ember right now, in the bathroom. Probably looking us up on her phone and figuring out the truth of what I am.

A goddamn disaster.

“This is pointless,” Synn says. “You aren’t even here, are you? I know you, Ash. You’re thinking about her, not us. And that’s the fucking problem. This band doesn’t matter to you, not the way it matters to us.”

“That’s not true, who wrote the first two fucking songs for the album? I’m here, aren’t I?”

“Physically? Sure.” Synn scoffs, his voice rough. “But those songs are about Ember. And we all know it. And there is only one place this is headed.”

“How many times do you want me to fucking apologize for the video?” I shout.

Dusky, who has been quiet, looks up. “Once would be nice.”

The sentence falls down on the room, hard.

It’s a gut punch and we all know it. Did I really never apologize for what I did? I try to think about what happened in the weeks after the video dropped. I went back to my ma’s place, hid out until Maryll gave us a plan. Then I came here.

I lift my hands, knowing I’m exactly the guy they think I am. A coward. A selfish prick. I don’t deserve them and I sure as hell don’t deserve Ember.

“I get it. I’m an even bigger ass than I thought.”

The guys don’t disagree, and maybe that’s for the best. At least we all know where we stand.

“Just tell me what you want from me, and I’ll do it,” I say, trying so damn hard to not sound as weak as I feel. “I mean it.”

Synn smirks, unsatisfied. “You could start by getting up by eight and actually practicing with us.”

I nod, tightly. “Understood.” Synn is not letting me off the hook, and honestly, I realize now, it’s for the best.

I’m gonna keep my head down, my cock in my pants, and will do my fucking job. At this point, I’ve already let everyone down. This is rock bottom. Only thing to do is climb back up to the top.

“We’re taking today off,” Saint says, apparently they decided this without me. “But tomorrow, we’re hitting it hard. We have three months to get this right. And I want another platinum album.”

The conversation ends on that note, and I take a cup of coffee, wanting to be anywhere but their line of vision.

I step into the hallway, headed for the staircase, and Ember is there, her petite figure wrapped in a towel, wet hair and wide eyes. Looking vulnerable, and wary of me.

Fuck.

“Sorry,” I say, unable to look away. Even now, wanting her. Needing her.

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