Page 100 of Filthy Rock Stars

I stand there, wordless.

He’s right. I acted like I was in this alone, but I never was. I told myself that I was protecting him, but Nico doesn’t need a savior.

I owe him the truth. Everything that I’m scared to say, I owe him all of it.

I find my way to the table with the rest of Forbidden Destiny. There’s a bottle of champagne, and I throw back a glass immediately.

Adrian leans across the table. “Shadow. I’m going to need something from you tonight.”

I consider downing a second glass. “And what’s that?” I ask casually, dreading the answer.

“The diss track,” he says. “We’re going to play it.”

Elle nods. “It will blow up. Sales are dipping again. It’s time.”

“Fuck off,” I tell them, totally over it. “I’ll sit my ass right here if that’s your plan.”

And text Nico to give the band a heads-up, too.

Elle pours herself more champagne. “No, I don’t think so,” she says cheerfully. “You’re recommitting yourself to the band, Shadow. Right?”

The lights flash, and the host runs out on stage. Animations fill the massive screens, bright in every direction, and applause thunders through the theater.

Instead of arguing, I sit back, thinking about the threat. They really are trying to put me in my place. That’s what this is about now. It’s not really about playing the song, not about Kissing Dirt.

It’s about controlling me. It’s like Nico says. Those two write the songs and steer the band, but everyone says my guitar parts are legendary. They need me.

I look across the table at my old friends, and I know that it’s time to do something.

The show carries on, and my brain keeps turning. Everything that Nico said backstage, everything that’s happened since I met him, it’s all in my head, clanging around.

I text him to give his band a warning, but I know that’s not enough. I have to show him that I’m worthy.

That I love him.

Cutter grabs my shoulder. “Heads up, Shadow. It’s time.”

Everything is a blur. We head backstage, and I go through the familiar routine like I’m sleepwalking. Adrian keeps staring at me, silently ordering me to obey, but all I can think about is Nico.

Fuck. I hope it’s not too late. I hope it didn’t take my sorry ass too long to realize what I need to do.

We get set up, the lights down as the show goes to commercial. There’s a theater full of celebrities right there, millions of people watching at home.

Maybe this is the moment I leave the band. I could walk off the second we start to play the diss track, embarrass Forbidden Destiny in front of everyone. Maybe even get a couple good burns out before they cut my mic.

Adrian steps in close. “You want to start us off this time, Shadow? Hit that guitar solo?”

I look down at the guitar. Nico’s words echo in my brain. I’m not in this alone.

I tilt my eyes out and find him in the crowd, sitting with the rest of Kissing Dirt off to the side and near the stage.

My man.

The lights come up, and from the opposite side of the stage, the host introduces us. The rest of the band falls into position, and Elle stands next to me, leaning in close like how we used to play, doing her best to intimidate me, force me to prove my loyalty.

“Here’s a newer hit,” she coos into the microphone, “dedicated to our favorite band.”

She turns to me, and a moment of silence stretches out forever. I’m frozen in place until my gaze returns to Nico.

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