Chapter 5
Ryosuke
It wasn’t like Toshi explaining things made it all better.
Had I been intentionally trying to provoke Yasu?
Sure. The guy had been downright adorable in the way he’d instantly put his guard up with me.
.. but it was a guard that was now solidified as he scooted across the room, arm draped protectively over the shoulder of the man with long dark hair that had hugged Toshi.
They all looked wary.
I took a deep breath and looked at the ceiling, saying a silent prayer that I could save the situation.
Because of my old bandmates, I expected people wouldn’t be so trusting.
While American music was known for its sex and drugs, Japan frowned upon all of it.
Well... maybe not the sex. Fan service was a thing, though it wasn’t something I often engaged in.
It often felt forced, and I didn’t need girls screaming about my perceived sexuality.
“Before you all form an opinion...” I looked around the room and found an old bass sitting in a corner. Maybe it was poor form that I hadn’t brought my own today, but I thought I was only meeting these guys. It wasn’t in my plans to sell them on my skills, but I knew it would help.
I made my way across the room and picked up the bass guitar from where it sat on the stand. Yasu instantly started toward me, but the long-haired man he’d escorted back to the group held him back. Maybe it wasn’t something I should touch, but I’d ask about it later.
The amp squealed as I plugged in the instrument.
Thankfully, it was tuned as I strummed my fingers over the chords.
When the room fell silent, you could feel the tension.
It was so damn thick you could cut it with a knife.
My throat ran dry as I played the opening chords to one of Pink Cherry’s top hits.
Of course, I’d heard of the band. It was hard not to when they were under the same label.
The low bass line filled the room with a haunting sort of melody.
It was one of my favorite songs by them.
The reason I liked it, it was a little harder than their usual sounds.
It combined a lot of angst with neediness.
Yasu’s lyrics had tugged at me, talking about wanting people to understand the deeper parts of himself that no one ever saw.
I hummed the melody as I kept playing the bass line.
It wasn’t the prettiest thing to listen to without the rest of the music, but when I closed my eyes, I was surprised when a guitar joined me.
When I opened my eyes, the long-haired guitarist that Yasu had pulled away earlier was watching me carefully as he plucked at his strings.
He nodded at me in wordless understanding as I continued to play the song. It was hard to fight the small smile that tugged at the corner of my lips as the lyrics tumbled free.
There was a reason I was not the vocalist. I was decent at singing a little back-up, but I could never be the shining star.
My voice was scratchy and hoarse from disuse.
Hatchi, the vocalist for Tokyo Roadtrip, had said he’d liked listening to me.
Said I sounded smoky and smooth, but I didn’t agree.
I sounded as if my vocal cords had been rubbed raw with sandpaper.
The second I let my eyes slide closed again, the music washed over me. It sounded so much better now that I had the guitarist playing with me. My heart slammed into my ribs just a little harder when the drum line added in.
Yasu cursed from across the room, and everyone stopped playing.
“This doesn’t mean anything.” He crossed his arms and pouted.
“What do you mean?” I asked setting the bass off to the side once more.
God, the look that Yasu gave me could level buildings. Not just that, but entire fucking cities. What was it about the guy that had him so fucking pissed at me? I was there to help his band, and the second I walked through the door, it was as though I had personally harmed him.
“You know that song? So what? It still doesn’t mean you’re a good fit.”
Toshi huffed loudly from where he’d propped himself against the wall, watching everything transpire.
“That’s enough. Yasu, if you want Pink Cherry to keep going, you will give Ryosuke a chance. If he completely fucks it up, we’ll reconsider things. Keep in mind that a large part of this decision lies in the hands of the label, whether you like it or not.”
Yasu’s shoulders drooped—he looked like a kicked puppy.
It wasn’t like I wanted to trample all over his band and ruin everything he’d set out to create.
I was perfectly okay with blending in if I needed to.
Sure, these guys were a lot more cotton candy to my hard grunge, but it didn’t mean that it wouldn’t work.
I would still be playing music and doing what I loved.
Music always gave me life a purpose. It was the reason I woke up each day and kept pushing, no matter how much I wanted to throw in the towel every other day.
Would the world be better off without me in it?
Maybe. But the last time I’d entertained that idea was when I’d ended up in the biggest trouble of my life, and I swore I’d never get back to that place.
It didn’t stop the dangerous thoughts from creeping in from time to time.
“Toshi—” I didn’t get to finish what I was saying before he raised his hand to silence me.
“Do we have an understanding?” Toshi asked, still staring at Yasu.
The vocalist’s shoulders rose and fell with each labored breath—I didn’t like this feeling. This was the first sign that I wasn’t as welcome as I wanted to be, despite the rest of the band not seeming to have an issue.
Yasu nodded, not even able to grace our manager with words. Anger rolled off him in palpable waves. He was like a bull waiting to strike. Any moment and you’d find a horn shoved straight up your ass... and not in the fun way.
Toshi didn’t bother to stick around. He peeled himself from where he’d planted himself against the wall and left the room.
A strange silence filled the space as we all looked at each other, as if we were all afraid to be the first one to speak, breaking whatever sort of weird spell was currently over us.
It didn’t matter.
It was Yasu.
He huffed loudly, throwing his arms in the air before he exited the room, not bothering to say anything before he left for the day.
“Ithink you’re pretty awesome.”
The words took me by surprise as I stubbed out the cigarette along the side of the building.
The guitarist with the long dark hair from earlier stood there with his arms tucked behind his back.
He wore a black and pink sweater that looked like it was stitched together incorrectly in a few places, with a pair of dark skinny jeans.
As he watched me waiting for a response he rocked back and forth on his toes.
I wasn’t sure what to say. Itsuki? Wasn’t that his name? I’d tried to do a little research about the band before our first meeting.
“Thank you?” Fuck, why did that sound like a question? I needed to be a lot more confident if this was really going to work.
His smile was soft and warm—inviting. Like he wanted me to know that he was someone I could talk to. He’d come across that way the second I’d walked through the door to the practice room earlier.
“I mean it. When they said that you were from Tokyo Roadtrip...” He took a deep breath, looking down the alley before trying to meet my gaze again. “I worried. We’ve had our harder songs, but you guys... wow.”
I wanted to laugh.
Hatchi was a moody motherfucker. Most of our songs were about how much life sucked, how most days he wished he were dead instead of above ground and enjoying the smaller things in life.
For a while, it was also what I lived for.
I’d joined the band right after going through the darkest time in my life, but maybe that was also why it had been so damn toxic.
None of them knew how to handle the pain in a healthy way.
I’d learned early on that not everything was sunshine and roses. Parents didn’t always support your dreams, and you had to do shit on your own. Add into the mix that your sexuality wasn’t exactly up to their expectations…
I shook my head before my thoughts could spiral too much further. Itsuki was trying to be nice. To make an effort to make me feel included after Yasu had acted like a total ass.
“I like music. Always have. It doesn’t matter if it’s dark and angsty or more light, like what you guys do.
I think that most people look at me and think I fall into a certain mold dismissing me.
” Was I over-explaining myself? Possibly.
I didn’t care, mostly because Itsuki’s whole damn face lit up when I’d opened up to him.
“That’s awesome. I’m the same way. If it’s got a good beat and amazing lyrics? I’ll get sucked right in. I don’t really care what style it is.”
God, Itsuki was practically glowing as he leaned against the wall next to me.
His big brown eyes blinked up at me as if he expected me to keep this conversation going.
I wasn’t used to talking, but there was something about him that brought it out easily.
And I wanted to talk to him, which was weird as fuck.
I didn’t want to talk to people all that often, but after how things went down earlier in the day? Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.
I took a deep breath, coughing a little to clear my lungs of the residual smoke from my last cigarette. “I’m the same. However, I do like it to still have a rock sound. Maybe that’s why I liked your band’s music. It’s fun and peppy, but you still know how to have that hard edge...”
As I trailed off, I looked over at the guitarist next to me.
Damn, his smile was so bright and infectious. That would take some getting used to. Everyone in Tokyo Roadtrip was always so depressed. A smile was hard to come by, and maybe that should have been my glaring red flag that something was wrong with the band. That it wasn’t meant to last.
Dwelling on the past wasn’t worth it. Not when I had this gorgeous ball of sunshine giving me his attention.
And yes, Itsuki was gorgeous. Maybe it was wrong for me to assume that he was flirting, but it had been so damn long since someone had paid that sort of attention to me that I craved it.
Hungered for it. Was even a little starved for it.