Page 78 of Filthy Rock Stars

I sigh. “I don’t know. I’m just sick of this shit.”

“You’ve always been sick of this shit. Something change?”

Hell yeah something changed. I fell in love, but I can’t tell him that. I can’t tell anyone, but that’s my own fault. I’m the one who made this life in the first place.

Why isn’t it easier to just burn this all down? Damn it.

“Nothing,” I answer and take another gulp of beer. “I’m just talking shit.”

Cutter’s phone buzzes, and when he glances at it, his eyes bug out. “Uh oh.”

“What?”

“There’s another video of Mare going viral.”

I bristle. “Excuse me?”

Cutter hits play on the video, and I slide next to him. It’s her and Star at what looks like the lobby to a hotel. They’re standing off to the side, clearly unaware that they’re being recorded, and whoever took the video has added not only captions, but animated emojis reacting to everything they say.

“Well, I tried to be nice in the interview,” Mare says. “That has to count for something.”

“Nicer than I would have been,” Star adds.

Mare laughs. “You would have given them enough ammunition to keep this going for years.”

“I definitely would have pointed out that they’ve had the same drum part on every song since the first album.”

“And that it’s a horrible drum part,” Mare adds with a laugh.

“Hell. Shadow is the only one in that band with actual talent.”

“Unless you count bullying and petty bullshit as talents.”

“Projecting your insecurity onto others?”

“Ruining rock music?”

“And the Grammy for biggest jackass goes to…”

They both laugh as the video cuts out. I suck on my lip ring, considering and trying not to indulge in smug satisfaction that they recognize my guitar talent.

“I guess it’s not that bad,” I muse. “Although it does kind of undercut that interview they gave.”

“What the fuck!” Adrian belts out, erupting from the other side of the room.

“Shit.” I frown at Cutter. “He’s going to freak out.”

“Yup,” he says sadly, then smiles. “Should we leave before anyone corners us?”

I grin and finish my beer. “And that is why you’re my favorite person in this band.”

A couple minutes later, we’re downstairs. Maybe running away right now is cowardly, but when the warm sun shines on my face, I feel free.

“Want to hit a bar?” Cutter asks.

I glance at my phone. Nico should be done with Kissing Dirt about now, so I shake my head.

“I’ve got to see a man about a horse,” I tell him.

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