talked to their manager when I heard what was going on. You've got a great chance here, Lola.”
A great chance? I wiped my clammy palms on my ripped jeans. He's right, it's an amazing chance. I know all their songs by heart, but... there's no way I'm good enough, there's so much more than being able to repeat back a song. If I audition, I'll look like an asshole.
“—an hour,” he was saying, my brain so fogged I missed the start of his sentence. “I know you brought your guitar, grab it and take it with you.”
“Sorry, what?”
“You've got an hour to get ready, they're doing it before we all drive out to the next pit stop.”
“Sean,” I blurted, climbing to my feet in a hurry. “Listen, wait, I can't do this.”
His eyebrow piercing glinted as he wrinkled his forehead. “What? Why?”
“I just—come on!” I said, giggling uncomfortably. “It's me, I'm not a rock star!”
“You've played in bands before,” he said.
“Garage bands, joke bands, nothing serious.”
“And I've seen you listening to Four and a Half Headstones since they launched.”
I couldn't stop shaking my head.
Sean opened his mouth, then halted. Eyeing the other members, he jerked his head at the door. “Give us a minute, guys.”
They trundled out, leaving me alone with my brother. The air in the bus felt sticky.
“Sean—”
“Lola,” he cut me off, burying his hands in his pockets. “Do you not get it? This is a huge opportunity, why are you sabotaging yourself?”
I let my hands fall to my hips. “I'm not, I'm just...” I'm just scared. “There's someone else here who'll get the position, someone better.”
“I don't get it,” he muttered, looking everywhere but at me. “I thought you wanted to make music, to become a star. I figured that was the fucking point of all of this.”
“I do want to! Sean, I really do, I'm just not ready for it. Not right now.”
Tightening his jaw, my brother brushed past me. “You're right,” he said, tongue coated in acid. “I guess you're not.” He left me alone on the bus, not once looking back.
For some time, I stared after him. My mind was as messy as my stomach. Gripping the seat, I crushed the slippery material until it squeaked. Great job, I told myself. You wanted him to quit pushing you to do this, and you got your way. Kicking my heel into the side of the small table between the seats, I grit my molars.
Fucking dammit.
He claimed I was giving up an opportunity—sabotaging myself. Was he right? Sean can't really think I'd pass this audition. But then, why tell me about it if he didn't? My brother knew me deeply and truly. If I ever questioned my skills, he was there to correct me. To boost me.
He believed in me.
So why didn't I?
Being in the bus was too much, the air was thick in my lungs. Clawing at the already torn seats, I tripped out the door and into the air. Gripping my knees, I hung my chin and took a deep breath—then another. I did that until my ribs ached.
Around me, I heard people laughing, talking casually as they prepared for the drive ahead. It was warm, and I was sweaty, but I wasn't thinking about the weather.
I have one hour, he said. One hour to decide if I'm going to take a shot at becoming the guitarist for freaking Four and a Half Headstones.
A band I'd been obsessed with since their first song.
Maybe I do have a chance. This isn't like a world-wide announcement with applicants coming all over to audition. We're in the middle of a tour, slim pickings. I could... I could actually have a chance here!
Wiping my hair from my eyes, I began the trek back towards Barbed Fire's van.
If I was going to do anything...
I would need my guitar.
****
They'd rented out the back room of a nearby gas station. The line of people coming out of the door was like a trail of bread crumbs.
On the one hand, I thought to myself, I don't need to go ask Sean for directions to where the audition is happening. But it looks like every single person who can hold a guitar showed up. And some who can't. Rubbing my neck, I hooked my case over my shoulder, attempting to act casual as I got in line.
Everyone was talking, the vibe excited and hyped. I heard snippets about the fight last night, or comments from people who admitted they were only auditioning so