Page 43 of How Good It Was (Excess All Areas 3)

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The offices of Upper Street were cool. Like, graffiti murals and silver, gold, and platinum records adorning the walls cool. And to Luke, it symbolised that their struggle was over.

Not completely. Because he knew it would take a while to build up the kind of cash he aspired to, the kind of cash that made any adventure anywhere in the world feasible. But enough that they didn’t need to worry.

“Can you imagine Iz’s face if I told her we were adding a graffiti mural in the living room?” Matt asked.

Jase laughed. “At least Iz lives with you to get pissed about it. I need to convince Cerys to move in with me.”

“You know that isn’t happening,” Alex said, slipping his jacket off. “Anyway, you are always over there, or she’s at our place with you. Not like it’s really a problem.”

“At least you live with women you chose,” Luke muttered. “I got told off for picking a towel that didn’t match Willow’s out of the airing cupboard. I mean, really. Who gives a shit about matching towels?”

“It’d bug me,” Ben said.

“Me too, probably,” Alex said.

“Yeah, Alex gets pissed off if we don’t use matching mugs at breakfast,” Jase teased.

“There’s a symmetry to matching things,” Alex said.

Ben’s laughter cracked through the corridor. “Is that why you prefer two at a time?”

Alex snorted. “Never thought about it that way. But, no, that’s not why. That’s a quadratic equation. If my sexual appetite on that day is squared, added to whether I’ve performed a gig and it’s more than three days since I had sex, then how many people are sleeping in my bed that night is the square root of that added together.”

“First, I’m pretty sure that’s not the definition of a quadratic equation.” Luke opened the meeting room door. “And second, that’s way more information than I need.”

“You’re a fucking dork,” Jase said, slapping Alex on the shoulder as they stepped inside.

“I’m curious how the economics of this are going to work out,” Matt said, following Ben.

Luke let the door slip shut. “Me too. We’ve had enough warnings to know it won’t be life changing, but it will be decent.”

Music and the money they earned bought each of them different things. Matt needed it to have space to create. Jase needed the fame that came from it. Ben needed the security brought about by wealth. Alex needed its self-expression.

But Luke, he needed the freedom. Money was going to buy the travel he’d always craved. Not just the trip to Europe with his mates, but real, soul-changing travel.

He thought about Willow’s answers in the cab to her hotel. The world’s longest train ride. He’d looked it up. It was a real thing. Over nine thousand kilometres without having to change trains. Took six days.

Maybe they could take it together.

Together.

Wasn’t that a fucking word all of its own?

“Guys, hi,” Simon, their manager said, entering the room from another door. Parker Moseley, their A&R rep followed him. “Should be a great conversation today. This is exciting.”

Parker pulled up a presentation, and as soon as the gigs were up on the screen, Luke glanced to Matt who grinned. “This is the first wave, lucky thirteen. Thirteen nights across the major cities in the UK. London, Bristol, Manchester. You can see we are hoping for a big home crowd by booking the Emirates Old Trafford at twenty-six thousand. These are committed.”

Jesus Christ. It had been one thing to open for Stryker and play a stadium shortly after their song had gone viral, but to be relied on to fill the damn thing by themselves was a whole other ball game.

“What did you mean when you said these are committed?” Luke asked.

“Good question,” Simon said. “There are a second wave of dates, and also, second nights at some venues. We’ll decide on whether they happen based on how quickly tickets sell for the first thirteen. But we do anticipate needing to release the second wave.”

Ben tapped the edge of the table. “Like how many?”

Parked leaned forward in his chair. “The tour could go to twenty-five.”

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