Page 22 of Heart of a Rebel

Without thinking, I reach for her hand and tangle my fingers in hers, wishing the warmth of her palm was enough to make whatever I’m starting to feel about her seem possible.

At least she doesn’t pull away. Instead, she tightens her grip.

Eloise looks up at me and there’s a lot working behind her eyes. Tonight has the potential to change her life, and I want that for her. I’ve heard the stories about her mom and know there’s nothing left for Eloise in this town but disappointment. She deserves to get away—to be heard. As much as I’d like to keep her here for my own selfish reasons, I know she’s meant for bigger things.

And even if I do take Sebastian up on his ridiculous offer and go with her, it doesn’t make a relationship with her any more possible. She’s Sebastian’s sister, she’s in the band, and I’m a man with holes ripped through him, no longer capable of giving a woman like Eloise the things she needs.

Eloise squeezes my hand, bringing me the kind of comfort I don’t dream about anymore. She opens her mouth to say something, but a figure climbs the stairs and stops beside her, cutting her off.

“Adrian, you made it,” Sebastian cheers and Eloise quickly pulls her hand out of mine before he notices.

He moves around her and stops in front of me, grabbing onto my shoulders. For a guy who has the ability to drink like a fish, he’s surprisingly sober.

“You need to be our manager,” Sebastian says, looking me straight in the eyes.

“I haven’t—”

“Just for tonight.” He squeezes me hard. “The execs are already circling, and a few of the bands are already trying to get their attention. They’ve brought along their managers and shit. You need to make us look like we’re serious.”

“By being your fake manager?” I lift an eyebrow at him.

“Just schmooze them for us, or be charming, or whatever the fuck it is you do that makes people seem to trust you.”

I’d like to tell him it’s just professionalism and being a decent human being, but I save it.

Looking down at Eloise, I realize she’s taken a step away to create some distance. But she’s still looking at me, and with one nod, she asks me to listen, knowing I can’t deny her.

“All right, where are they?”

Sebastian looks past me, down the hallway Eloise and I just traveled. I follow his gaze and the pseudo-bouncer is giving some guy crap who’s trying to get past him.

“Did you see them when you came in?” Sebastian steps back and looks at me.

“Hard to miss.”

He nods. “Exactly, just linger over there, look important. See if you can hear what they’re saying when we go on.”

“Which is?”

“Next.” He grins, looking the opposite of his sister right now. He’s radiating confidence and not the least bit nervous.

“Got it.” I look over at Eloise. “You guys go get prepped; I’ll take care of it.”

She gives me the faintest smile, mouthingthank youwhen Sebastian isn’t looking. I watch them disappear down the staircase, wondering when I got initiated into this makeshift family the band seems to have created.

As I turn to head back down the hallway, I debate whether it’s a good thing to be forming these kinds of attachments. After everything that happened with Sam, and then my father, I figured it would be better to just embrace the lone-wolf life and go it alone. But with every step these guys drag me back in.

The club is going wild for the band onstage. I have a tough time fighting my way through the crowd, but I manage to use my height and build to my advantage to push past them. There are a number of people positioning themselves right by the roped-off section the label execs are in, looking desperate for their attention, and it’s clear that’s not going to be the way to go about it.

Instead, I spot a table directly in front of them, empty because everyone’s trying to be up close and in earshot. Between the music and the screaming drunks, it will be impossible to hear them anyway, so I’m going to have to play this differently.

I take a seat and lean back, making myself comfortable and positioning myself directly in their line of sight. Waving at a passing waitress, I make sure to use my left arm and show off my purple bracelet. Just enough to let them know I’m with someone and not another drunk fan.

Then I sit back and wait, feeling a lot like I did on the battlefield, even if the scene is completely different. I remain patient, assessing the scene. Watching the crowd react to the current band, knowing that’s also what the execs will be doing. Seeing how people respond to them and deciding what the record labels are looking for.

The crowd is happy enough to be cheering for the group on stage, but it’s nothing like the reactions I’ve seen from the crowds at Enemy Muse shows. As the song ends, and the band exits, I don’t need to turn around to know that they were good, but they won’t be signed.

There was no spark. No magic.

---