I see the relief on Dylan’s face, even though he tries to hide it. This isn’t one of Jordan’s big stake nights, we’re playing for fun. Because of the way things worked out for us, I couldn’t fully relate to the days when you were on the cusp of hitting the big time. You got the record deal, you were selling plenty of copies, doing small tours, the money was coming in but hadn’t fully filtered down yet. The difference with BreakNeck was, we signed with a much bigger label and our first contract was mind blowing. We’d more or less had money thrown at us from the start, and we were only eighteen so had never known anything other than being at our parent’s houses. These guys had been through a lot of issues, struggled to get traction, but it is working out for them now. They have solid backing.
I deal, because Jordan likes to think he can shuffle cards but all he ends up doing is throwing them across the table.
“Where’s Ad tonight?” I ask, after I’ve dealt the first hand and we’ve all placed our bets.
“Where do you think?”
“It’s literally across the hall,” I point out. “He can’t drag himself away for a few hours.”
“Feel free to go knock on his door, just don’t let yourself in,” he gives me a knowing tip of his head.
We’d heard all about how Jordan had his spare key revoked, after letting himself into their place one too many times, eating their food all the time and accidently seeing them right in the middle of fucking on the kitchen counter.
“Besides, we’d be better off inviting Jenna, that would be more challenging. She’s a decent little card player,” he tells the others. “Adam sucks.”
“Would that not be better then, someone to rob blind?” Nash laughs.
I send a text to them both telling them to get their asses over here. Realising I have a shit hand and the others are still all in, I fold and grab some chips. I haven’t eaten dinner and I’m starting to get hungry. I offer to order some pizza while they play. My phone buzzes after I’ve put the order in.
Jenna: I’m out with the girls, sorry or I would have gladly taken your money. Adam is at home though, moping. Go drag him over.
Letting the others know my plan, I head out and cross the hallway, banging on the door.
“Jordan!” Adam shouts from the other side after I keep knocking. “How many times do I have to tell you.” He pulls the door back and sees me and looks confused. “What are you doing here?”
“Playing poker next door, why aren’t you over there?”
“I’m working,” he steps back and lets me in.
I follow him into the room he’s made into a medium sized recording studio in one corner and a larger space where instruments are set up, including a full drum kit. It’s all soundproofed so we can play without disturbing anyone. There are pages littered all over the floor, a track I don’t recognise playing. He shuts it off and carves a hand through his hair. He looks stressed.
“We’re supposed to be taking a break,” I point out, sipping the beer which I brought over with me.
“Yeah, I know but I promised I’d have this song written before we go away. I’ve been tied up with other shit and we fly out to Hawaii in three days.”
“For Zosia?”
“No, Dirty Crew.”
My brows raise. We toured with them a few years back, they have a grungier sound than we do but they’re a decent band. They’ve been marred with some controversy lately, so they’re looking for ways to get them on the right track. I didn’t realise Adam agreed to write something for them, but he always keeps this shit close to his chest. Bianca might not like the thought of him writing for a band who’d been getting a lot of bad press, but I can see the other side of it too, having someone as good and professional as Adam writing for them was a good move.
“Patrick okay with that? I thought he is their song writer.”
“He is, he’s in rehab.”
I whistle. I’d heard some stuff but not that. Patrick always came across as a little wild, kind of manic. I didn’t know it was this bad though.
“They want it ready to go once he gets out, the guys are gonna record the music and lay down his vocals afterwards. It’s harder to write because I feel like the guy is being stepped on. If anyone were brought in to write for us without discussion, I’d be pissed.”
“It’s a tough one for sure,” I say with a frown. “It’s just one song?”
“Yeah, it’s all I agreed to. Wish I hadn’t now. I can’t really focus on it.”
“Why? Don’t tell me it’s cos Jenna is out without you,” I take a seat in one of the plush black chairs. It’s where I usually sit when we’re brainstorming or jamming as we figure out our music.
“Fuck off, I’m not that much of a dick. I’m glad she’s out, she deserves to have some fun, she works so damn hard. Plus, she wants to get quality time in with Brooke before we leave, you know how needy Brooke can be at times.”
I laugh. The last thing Brooke is, is needy, but Adam often sees her as competition for Jenna’s affection. He’d never openly admit that to anyone, would die before ever agreeing to it but I see it.