Page 32 of Syncopation
“Mel. Melissa, but everyone calls me Mel.”
“What do you want me to call you?” Names were important and personal. He’d learned that from Mish, and a few others.
Her face lightened out of the nerves. “Mel. I like Mel.”
“And you have our CD...?”
Mel seemed reluctant to give it up.“Yeah, it’s... My mom didn’t want me to buy this.” Wetness at the corner of her eyes. She offered the case to Ray.
Their very first album, before they signed with the label. They’d sold a bunch at concerts, a few online, and had put the MP3s out there, too. He took it gingerly, because this was a precious item to her. “She doesn’t like rock?”
The young woman shook her head. “She likesrock. Her stuff, you know? Her bands. She didn’t want me listening to—to—” She hiccupped a laugh. “Gay people.”
Yeah, there were people who said they wouldn’t listen to Twisted Wishes when the band hadn’t kept quiet about their sexualities. But damned if they were going to hide who they were. There were so many people in the industry who were queer. You’d think the critics and the populationwould be used to it by now. Chances were, her mom listened to queer people without even knowing it. “I’m sorry she’s like that.”
Another nod. “I had it shipped to a friend’s house. My mom was so mad.” Her eyes were brimming. “But you understood how I felt. The lyrics. The music. Saved my life.”
Oh. A cool wash of gratitude mixed with a touch of wonder flowed over Ray. “I’m so very glad.”He paused. “Should I sign the CD? Or the booklet or...?” Sometimes people had very specific ways they wanted items signed.
“The CD,” she whispered.
“To you?”
The nod was almost imperceptible, but there.
He signed, leaving space for Mish and Dom, too. “To Mel,” he said, and handed it back.
She blinked a few times at the disk, as if not believing it was really there, then shelooked up, right at him. “My mom took it from me when she found out. She listened to it...and gave it back.” A smile broke out. “Changed her, too.”
Then Mel was gone, off to talk to Mish...and Ray was left breathless.
That moment and so many others—that was why he did this. Not for the fame, but for Mel and Bryan and Sami and all the others he’d met so far. He turned and greeted the nextfan.
He’d no idea how long it had been by the time the lines finally dwindled down to nothing—only that Five Asylum was playing and his hand hurt, but the post-concert buzz still poured through his body.
Mish gripped him on the shoulder, her expression as exuberant-looking as he was. “That was something!”
Even Zavier looked dazed, and that purple lipstick wasn’t so perfect now. Raystill wanted to kiss it off of him. Unfair. “Let’s get back to the bus.”
“Van Zeller.” Carl’s sharp voice cut through the night, and they all flinched. Zavier turned toward the asshole, his face a mask, lips pressed thin.
Nope. Ray wasn’t going to let Carl ruin Zav’s first real show. He strode toward their manager. Better he take whatever licks were coming. “Yup. What’s up?”
“A word.”Carl had his tablet on hand and gestured back toward the venue’s building with the other. Ray dutifully followed him inside and to a small room that looked like it could be an office.
Carl shut the door and leaned against it, neatly trapping Ray.
Shit. This was going to be one ofthosediscussions. Carl hadn’t imposed on Ray like this before, but Ray knew the intimidation game. It wasa high school move. He crossed his arms. “Were you disappointed in the concert?” That would be rich.
Carl snorted. “You know I can’t fault your performance. Even your idiotic choice of an opening song was a hit.” He shook his head. “Lucky break for you.”
The buzz he’d been riding slipped away into anger. “Wasn’t luck. I know our fans.”
“Your fans aren’t enough to pay your way out ofdebt.”
Debt? Wait. “What?” Carl had never fucked around when it came to money.
“Oh, Ray, Ray. Do you have any idea how much you owe the label?”
