at me had been a short-term contract that lasted until the end of the tour. It basically ensured that I couldn’t quit for any reason without serious financial repercussions.
Translation: He’d sue the fuck out of me.
I still wondered how the agreement could be considered short-term since standard recording contracts only lasted a year. Even I knew that it was career suicide to sign with a label for longer than twelve months at a time. There could be differences in vision between the label and artist too vast to overcome, a lack of funding and influence causing stagnant careers, or corrupt labels who demanded too much and gave almost nothing in return.
“You’re not surprised because you know me well,” I answered my friend.
“That I do. So what happened with your folks?” she asked, referring to my impromptu trip home. It was maybe my third in the four years since I left home.
“Rosalie’s dating an atheist,” I blurted unceremoniously.
Griffin winced before shaking her head. “Poor baby sis.”
“Indeed.”
I shuffled into the living room barely large enough to fit our second-hand coffee table, armchair, and dilapidated couch. The furniture was a little masculine, but none of us minded since we were too poor to be picky, and we’d taken it off a neighbor’s hands for free. His asking price had been two hundred dollars, but Griff worked her magic. Men had a tough time saying no to her, which was ironic since they weren’t her type.
My bones ached from unknown exertion as I flopped next to Griffin on the couch. I then settled onto my side before laying my head in her lap. Staring at the TV but not watching whatever was playing, I replayed the meeting with Bound and Savant Records over and over in my head.
Bound’s reaction to me, a stranger, had been almost violent. I hadn’t done anything to earn it. My only crime was being fashionably late, but they seemed prepared to hate me either way. Curiosity and a little disappointment that my idols turned out to be jerks had me wondering why.
Feeling my head begin to ache, I decided I didn’t care. I had an agenda that was bigger than me, and three overgrown toddlers weren’t going to get in my way.
My mind was a whirlpool of jumbled thoughts and emotions, and any moment, I’d drown. Ever the mind reader, Griffin’s fingers began gliding through my hair, and it took no time at all before my eyes began to close.
“Wake me in a few hours,” I sleepily managed to get out. “I’m meeting someone tonight.”
I felt her fingers pause in my hair, but I was asleep before she could interrogate me.
A quarter past nine, I was rushing through Poison’s doors.
Since the night was young, it was easy to spot Oni sitting at a table furthest from the dance floor. She was sipping the bar’s most lethal drink with the look of someone who’d fucked up royally. It was a far cry from the confidence she’d displayed earlier, but I didn’t take it personally. Witnessing her uncertainty only assured me that I was doing the right thing.
Houston, Loren, and Jericho had been right.
It was their delivery that sucked.
I had no business breathing Bound’s air, much less sharing a stage. I could predict each minute change in Houston’s pitch, the pluck of Loren’s pick, and the pattern of Jericho’s strikes as if I’d choreographed them myself.
It. Wasn’t. Enough.
I didn’t know them. There was a reason they played so beautifully together. The answer was in the name they’d chosen. Houston, Loren, and Jericho were bound, which meant I was trespassing on destiny.
No wonder they hated me.
I powered ahead, pushing through the thin crowd. Spotting me before I could reach her, the hopelessness vanished from Oni’s eyes as she watched me closely. When I finally reached the table, my lips parted, but she quickly held up her hand.
I was silenced before I could even get a syllable out.
“Whatever sad spiel you’re about to give me to try to pull out of this deal, save it. You’re doing the tour.”
“This was a huge mistake,” I admitted anyway. There was no use pretending she hadn’t known exactly what I was thinking. She’d at least saved me from trying to find the right words.
“Probably,” Oni agreed with a shrug. “But it doesn’t matter now, so let me give you a warning that I hope you’ll heed.” She paused to make sure I was listening before continuing. “The last thing you want to do is bare your