No Commitment (Capital Kingsmen #1) - Lisa Suzanne Page 0,12
might be time to grow up and figure it out.
CHAPTER 7
TYLER
My ride pulls up to the Forum a little before four in the afternoon. Tonight’s a gig night here at the arena, so Dani will be working for sure.
My chest is tight and my stomach is in knots.
I don’t even get this nervous when I go on stage. But, for the record, I do get nervous every single time I take a stage. I could play those songs in my sleep, but it’s still daunting to think about all those people standing in the crowd to watch us.
The marquee for tonight’s show holds a country band’s name. The doors won’t open for another four hours, but cars are already in the parking lot as attendees wrap a line around the building for their shot at the closest spot to the stage. Signs all over the parking lot tell fans that there’s no tailgating, but that doesn’t seem to stop many. People are blasting country music, dancing in the lanes of traffic, and in general already having fun as they gear up for a great time at the show.
I remember those days.
Tommy and I used to go to all sorts of concerts when we were teenagers. All four of us dropped out of college when we somehow landed a record deal with a small boutique record label. We thought we were hot shit, but it was all a big scam. We put out one record with them and lost a shitload of cash before Ashmark swooped in and scooped us up. They booked us the opening gig for York Short, a band out of San Diego, and we never looked back.
Sometimes I regret dropping out of school, but that feels like a lifetime ago at this point. It was just another decision in a long string of them that I didn’t get to make for myself.
I never declared a major, which maybe says a lot about me and my decision-making skills, but I was leaning toward business. And let me tell you, I’ve learned a fuck of a lot about business over the last few years.
I may not have a university degree, but the knowledge I’ve gained in the field is priceless.
Even if everything else disappears tomorrow, I’ll still have that.
As I walk toward the ticket booth, I can’t help but feel a longing in the pit of my stomach. I miss going to concerts. I miss the thrill of waiting in line to see my favorite band, of rushing with the rest of the crowd to get the best standing place for the show, of drinking down half a bottle of Coke before adding Jack up to the top and getting fucked up while we wait in line.
Getting to see my favorite bands from backstage is pretty fucking great, but I miss the excitement buzzing through me just before the gates open.
Not unlike the buzzing in my chest now as I approach the ticket window, I suppose.
My heart starts pounding a little harder as I walk closer and closer to the short line of people waiting at Will Call. My hat’s still pulled down low, and I’m just crossing my fingers no one will recognize me.
And then I arrive at the ticket counter.
I pick the shortest line, the one with a couple at the window, and wait my turn.
“Last name?” the chick behind the counter asks as I step up to the window.
“I’m, uh, not on the list,” I say.
“If you’re not on the list, unfortunately we’re sold out tonight,” she says. She doesn’t look up from whatever it is she’s typing on her computer. “I’m so sor—” She cuts herself off when she finally does glance up. “Holy shit,” she murmurs, all the blood leaving her cheeks. “You’re Tyler Caldwell.”
I chuckle. I get recognized a hell of a lot more often now because of that reality show I did. I guess it wasn’t all bad that I went on. It did, after all, give CK the exposure we were looking for when I agreed to sign on. “I am.”
She squeals, drawing the attention of some of the people waiting in lines nearby. “Oh my God!”
“I’ll sign whatever you want if you could just keep it down for a minute,” I say quietly.
She laugh-squeals, and now she’s also drawing the attention of some of her colleagues. “What can I do for you?” she asks, pulling herself together.
“I’m looking for the assistant manager.”
“This is so unusual,” she says. “Our manager, Patrick,