did the levels and everything earlier, right?”
Braylin nodded. Zen wished he could order him to use his words. He clenched his jaw. He also wished he’d quit staring at the doe-eyed cutie as if he were his new sub.
“Do you need to check your tuning first?”
Braylin chewed his bottom lip as he stared at the pegs of the instrument, almost as though they might tell him whether they were in harmony.
“I could…” He regarded Zen again. “The guy at the desk checked it, but it wasn’t plugged in. And the air wasn’t as cold in the front as it is in here, so…”
Zen rubbed his forehead. Fuck me. It might not be Zen’s job, but someone needed to take this sweet young thing in hand. But as long as the kid viewed him as the authority figure over the band anyway, he’d might as well give him an order. He snorted to himself. Years of arguing with Sal over every little thing—from Sal’s annoying habit of randomly changing the guitar sound for every gig to whether or not what he wore on stage was appropriate—had predisposed him to being bossy in front of the rest of the guys.
“Take a moment and check, Braylin. We can wait.”
His drummer, Derek, called out. “For real. A couple more minutes won’t matter. We wait hours for that asshole all the time.”
Zen shot Derek a glare while the bassist and keyboardist chuckled. Marlon and Trevor weren’t as vocal as Derek tended to be.
“Dude. Not now.”
Derek shrugged. “It’s not like we can keep it a big secret.” As Zen’s scowl deepened, Derek nodded. “I know, I know. I don’t need to escalate. I’m just so sick of this shit. His whole mea culpa act after we finished in the studio had me fooled. I’m not a fan of being fooled.”
Zen didn’t begrudge the guy for being full-on pissed, he’d reached that point too, but nothing could be solved right now. However, they could get some playing in. Then, they could face the rest of their dilemma later.
“Yeah, me neither, Derek.” Zen turned to Braylin who’d been checking his guitar while politely turning down the volume. He glanced up at Zen.
“Um, I’m ready.”
Zen worried the kid would faint. If only he knew Braylin better, he’d have some insight on what it was the boy needed, how he could guide him. Zen’s gut tightened and he realized he was staring.
Zen yanked the mic from the stand and tore his gaze away. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, finding his center. After a few moments, he gave the signal for the band to start. Derek clicked his drumsticks over his head, counting out the beat and the crescendo of the first guitar chord crashed down, a tick off count. The band struggled to right itself, but Derek abruptly stopped before they began the first verse.
Zen glanced Braylin’s way, and noted the kid appeared a bit green around the gills. He grunted to himself. Green was the perfect comparison. Zen shot Derek a look, worried that his anger over Sal would make him snap at the delicate creature who only wanted to do a good job.
He placed his mic back in the stand then sauntered over to Braylin. When he got within a foot of him, Braylin flinched.
“S-sorry,” he stammered out. “I’m not used to playing that way.” He scraped his teeth along his bottom lip.
Zen arched his eyebrows. “That’s all right, don’t you worry.” He spoke softly to keep the conversation away from the judgmental ears of the band members. “Let’s work this out. What way do you use?”
Braylin wouldn’t meet his gaze, his eyes darting around with his head hung low. “What I mean is, I’m not used to playing with people. It’s always in my head.”
Understanding dawned. “You’ve never played in a band before, baby?”
Braylin jerked up his head, his eyes wide. Zen almost groaned out loud at his hasty words. The kid was nervous enough without Zen uttering endearments. He also hoped he hadn’t come off as condescending. His surprise had been genuine.
Braylin’s shoulders slumped. “I’m sorry.”
He started to lift the guitar over his head, but Zen grabbed his wrist, encouraging him to lower the instrument.
“Save the sorrys for something real, got it?” Zen figured a dash of Dom couldn’t hurt. “Everyone makes mistakes. Hell, I’ve made mistakes and they’re my own damn songs.” He winked at Braylin who stared up at him with mouth agape. “You can do this, Braylin. I got faith in