Page 85 of High Notes & Hail Marys

“We’re only going back to London,” you speak up. “I think it’s, like, an hour and a half. Not exactly Party Central?”

She emits a dismissivepsh. “Plenty of time, if you party efficiently.”

Sterling looks wary. “I don’t know what you’ve heard, Ronnie, but I’m not actually that exciting. I prefer not to have any hard stuff onboard. No judgment, though. Totally get it if that’s a deal-breaker.”

Looking mightily offended, Ronnie tilts her head. “I’m not bringingdrugson your airliner, Sterling-my-love. What kind of low-life do you take me for?”

“What were you thinking?” he asks. He draws his knees up. You are big enough that he can just use you like a goddamn couch, getting all comfy.

Whipping her hand out from behind her back, Ronnie reveals a gallon-sized Ziploc bag with a magician’s flourish. It’s full of cakey brown squares. She shakes it enticingly.

“Are those brownies?” you ask.

“Hash brownies!” she exclaims gleefully. “Got ‘em off a fan at the stage door. She made them specially for us, because Alis mentioned on Instagram that she’d never tried them.”

Sterling sucks his teeth thoughtfully. “You’d eat food from a fan? How do you know it’s safe?”

“Made them for us, not you, right?” Ronnie shrugs. “We’re not superstars, love. Neon Roses isn’t a big enough deal for people to try and poison us. A little sweet parasocial fangirling, sure. Nothing crazy. I did molly with a girl in Cardiff a while back. That was a trip. Shared our whole lives’ stories while rolling off our faces.”

“I thought you said that you didn’t want drugs?” you comment to Sterling. You dislike the idea of him feeling pressured, even if the thought of twenty-one-year-old Ronnie from Manchester pressuring Sterling Grayson, Superstar, is more than ludicrous.

His gaze finds yours. “Pot’s not really a drug, right?” His expression is guileless. “You get high sometimes.”

“I do,” you admit guardedly.

“So do I,” Ronnie laughs.

“I never would’ve guessed,” you say dryly.

Sterling cracks his knuckles. The dampness of his braid is starting to seep through your shirt to your skin. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

Just then, Alis peeks around the corner. She can bob under Ronnie’s arm, being almost a head shorter. Same dark hair, at least at the roots, but hers is growing out a fading Kool-Aid red dye job and chopped into a shag. She’s got chipmunk cheeks and a striped, sleeveless dress clinging tight-tight to her Venus of Willendorf figure, slit up to her hip. With the gusto she was playing bass on stage, you kept worrying about a wardrobe malfunction. You’re pretty sure she’s the eldest sister of the trio.

“Got the wine!” she chirps. “That stupid scrote Colin was good for something. ‘Sappenin, boys?”

Ronnie beams. “Alis got the wine,” she repeats. Turns to her sister. “You seen Feebs?”

“Oh, she’s dead in love with that pyro-tech,” Alis announces. “Got her tongue down his throat in the corridor.”

“I thought he was in lighting?” Ronnie says.

“No, definitely pyro. She wants to know if he can come on the plane.”

Facing Sterling, Ronnie shrugs. A silent question.

Sterling laughs, a little helpless. “The more, themerrier,” he says.

Oh, boy, you think to yourself.

***

On the jet, you get acquainted with Phoebe, who is taller and thinner than Alis, and more reserved than her two older sisters. That’s not saying much; she still greets you with a whoop and a huge hug. She plays keyboard and percussion, and her wrists and ankles jangle beneath layers of belled bangles. It’s like someone hit copy-and-paste on the Lewises’ eyes: they are all black as night, and fringed with thick, natural eyelashes. Phoebe is dragging a scruffy-looking young man by the tattooed arm. According to Cal, who coordinated a last-minute background check from London, the kid’s given name is Shannon Ellis. He introduces himself as “Flame-o.” His cool demeanor falters when he shakes Sterling’s hand.

“Real pleasure,” he says. “It’s been amazing working for you, bro. That bonus you gave us all for extending the tour was out of sight. Paid my folks’ mortgage for a year.”

Sterling looks uncomfortable. “It was nothing compared to how hard the crew worked. I couldn’t put on the show without you guys.”

Luckily, the topic turns quickly from bonuses as the plane hits cruising altitude.

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