Page 99 of Heart of a Rebel

“Try massively.”

“But…” He plants his hand on the table in front of me. “We know the industry in and out by now. I can spot talent. And you’re all about that business shit at this point.”

“Hold up.” I lift my hand in front of me. “What does this have to do with me?”

The guys all share a look, but Sebastian keeps the floor. “You’d be in on it with us, obviously.”

“Obviously?”

“Obviously,” Rome repeats for emphasis, or because he’s a dick. Probably both.

“Like I don’t have enough shit going on wrangling the four of you every five seconds.” I quirk an eyebrow at Sebastian.

“Look, man. I get this sounds fucking wild. But that’s what we do right? When’s the last time this crew sat back and did something predictable?”

“Never.” I’m sure he meant it as a rhetorical question, but I can’t help reminding him that they’re always giving me a headache.

“Exactly.” He brushes off the fact that I was making a dig at him. “We haven’t been happy with things at Neon Records for a while now, you know that. And after all this shit with El, honestly, there’s no way we’re extending our contract, no matter how much they’re bugging us and waving perks in front of our faces.”

His statement isn’t a surprise. Eloise hasn’t entertained anything from the label after what went down. It might not be their fault in the grand scheme of things, but Cyrus operated under their roof, and whatever little trust existed is gone. Not to mention, they haven’t treated the band like people in years.

“So your solution is to create a label instead of shopping around?”

“They said it themselves, eventually people will move onto the next big thing.” Sebastian sits back. “I don’t think that will happen anytime soon, but we all know this industry chews people up and spits them out at any given moment. We need to start thinking long-term. Big picture.”

“Who the fuck are you and what have you done with the members of Enemy Muse? I’m being pranked, right? Or are you actually growing the fuck up?”

“Aww does that mean Dad is proud?” Sebastian nudges my arm and Noah laughs.

“No, I give all credit for this to Cassie and Merry.” I wave a finger between them. “That’s the only explanation for why you’d all be thinking so clearly.”

“Fair enough.” Noah shrugs not even trying to deny it, because we all remember the mess they were before they found women strong enough to help them put their heads on straight.

“Fuck.” I scratch the back of my neck.

“Fuck no, or fuck you’ll do it?” Sebastian lifts an eyebrow.

I school my expression and look him in the eyes. “Fuck, as in,why the fuck am I even entertaining this?”

The only answers I get to my hypothetical question are shared grins as they elbow each other.

They feel me caving.Ifeel myself caving.

Agreeing to be their band manager with zero experience was one thing. This is something else entirely.

“How are you always talking me into shit I know nothing about?” I ask, really not sure there is an answer.

Sebastian grins. “Someone’s gotta drag you outta the square you keep painting yourself into.”

“Touché,” Rome gives a cheer with a non-existent glass and pretends to down it in one drink before slamming his fist on the table.

“Does that mean you’re in?” Noah asks.

All eyes are on me, and I’m not sure why they’re all putting so much weight into my decision. They could do it without me. But I’m not sure they would. In one way or another, I joined this fucked up family the second I joined them on their first tour. And there’s no going back.

“Fuck it, I’m in,” I say before I can change my mind. “Don’t make me regret it.”

“Do we ever?” Sebastian smiles with his stupid, wicked grin.

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