Page 80 of Filthy Rock Stars

I laugh, quite pleased with the elaborate keytar solo we’ve worked into the song structure. The fun of the day has almost erased my worries, but a knock at the door pulls me back to reality.

I sit up. “Must be Shadow,” I say, wringing my hands together. In my better moments, I’ve been acting cool about this, even convincing myself they’ll all hit it off.

But now that Shadow is here, in the studio that’s basically a second home for the band, my heart jumps into my throat.

Mare offers me an encouraging smile. “Why don’t you let him in, sweetie?”

I open the door, and it’s Shadow, the same Shadow who I wake up thinking about every day, the guy who’s been crashing at my place. The man who showered with me this morning, who asks me to play his favorite songs from my space opera every time we hang out, who keeps me up late cuddling and talking about music.

I know him, but we’ve never been together in front of other people, and I weirdly feel like a stranger again, uncertain whether I’m allowed to touch him, how to act.

Luckily, Shadow doesn’t seem to mind. He pulls his sunglasses off and kisses me, just briefly, before nodding to the band.

“Mare. Star. Case.”

“Shadow,” Mare says, summoning a smile, although Case and Star are much more hesitant. “We were introduced briefly before.”

“The afterparty at the Grammys,” he says with a nod. “And that once in Tokyo. I remember. Wasn’t sure you would.”

“Practically old friends,” Star says sarcastically.

Shadow winces, but he holds his composure. Without thinking about it, I take his hand.

“You’re a great band,” he says. “One of the fucking best. Sorry I have to meet you in the context of Forbidden Destiny acting like assholes.”

“I’m glad you’re in agreement about that,” Star says. “Your band are complete assholes.”

Shadow opens his mouth, clearly about to say something even more sarcastic, but he stops himself.

“Yeah, pretty much,” he agrees.

Case stands. “Then why are you still in the band? Why do you go along with it?”

“I’m trapped in a contract,” he explains, airing more of his business than I expected. “Five years. They basically own me.”

Mare whistles. “Five years is a long time.”

“Fuck yeah it is,” Shadow grunts. He glances at me, then back to the band. “But money is just money. I want to leave. I would leave. Nico is more than enough reason to. I’m so fucking proud of him for joining your band. I don’t want to get in the way of that. But Adrian and Elle are out for blood. If I tried to leave, and especially if they found out that I’m in… That we’re together…”

My ear perks. What did he almost say?

“And that’s it,” Star says flatly. “Your guys are out for blood, and like it or not, that makes you being here a problem.”

I squeeze Shadow’s hand, the urge to defend him growing, especially after he said he was proud of me. “Maybe there’s something that could be done legally? Like some sort of confidentiality agreement we could sign?”

“We talked about options,” Mare says, “and we’re not giving an ultimatum.”

Case nods. “But we could use some reassurances,” he adds.

“Right.” Shadow grips my hand tighter. I realize he’s jittery, and I’m not sure if I’ve ever seen him like this. “It’s like Nico said. I can sign something. Whatever.” He swallows. “My word is probably worth shit.”

“Probably,” Star agrees.

I bristle. “Hey,” I say, not able to stop myself.

“No, it’s fine,” Shadow says. “I’m a piece of shit. Band of assholes. We’ve been over this part already.”

“You are not,” I say, my voice tight. I don’t want the band to see him that way, and I especially don’t want Shadow to see himself that way. “That’s not what they’re trying to say.”

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