2. ETHAN
CHAPTER 2
ETHAN
I’m halfway through a riff when my phone starts vibrating on the amp beside me. The screen lights up with three names stacked in a group chat: Cam, Jesse, Marco. Which means it’s either band practice rescheduling or someone sending memes at 2 p.m.
I hit pause on my guitar and pick up the phone, reading the message thread:
Cam: Yo, Ethan. We gotta talk.
Three ominous words. We gotta talk. Never a good sign, and definitely not a band reschedule.
I sigh, hitting the call button. Cam picks up on the first ring.
“Hey, man,” he says, a little too chipper.
“Cam,” I say slowly. “If this is about that thing with the speaker wires last week, I swear it wasn’t my fault.”
“No, no, it’s not that,” he says, a bit too quick. “It’s, uh, actually about the band.”
I brace myself, giving him a chance to spit it out. “All right, hit me. What’s going on?”
There’s an awkward shuffling noise, like he’s fumbling with the phone. “Well, here’s the thing… We’ve been talking, me and the guys, and, uh… we kinda think the band’s taking a different direction.”
I blink. “A different direction?” I echo. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It just means we’re going in a different direction,” he says.
I finally get it. “You mean without me?”
“Look, it’s not you—it’s, uh…” Cam pauses, grasping for words, “well, actually, it kinda is you. You’re a little too, uh, old-school, man. We’re going for more of a, I dunno, ‘synth-wave meets grunge’ vibe now.”
“Synth-wave meets… grunge,” I repeat, my mind spinning at the combination. “And that’s what you think my sound is getting in the way of?”
He’s quiet for a beat. “Well, yeah. I mean, you’re more of a classic rock guy, right? You’re all about guitar riffs and, like, actual melodies. We’re trying to be… atmospheric.” He says the last word with a dramatic flourish, like I’m supposed to be impressed.
“Right,” I say, deadpan. “Atmospheric.”
Another voice chimes in. Jesse, of course. “Hey, Ethan! No hard feelings, dude. We’ll still be cool, right?”
“Right,” I say slowly. “We’ll be… cool. So, just to be clear, the band that I started, I named, and I have written every decent song for is now going to be, what, moody elevator music?”
I can practically hear Jesse’s shrug through the phone. “It’s just a different vibe, dude. You know how it is. Bands change, people grow.”
“Sure, sure,” I say, scratching my head. “People grow. Especially when they’re shedding founding members like dead skin cells.”
Cam jumps in, probably sensing my sarcasm. “It’s nothing personal, man. You’re great. But, like, we’re evolving, you know? And you’re… well, you’re more of a ’70s guitar solo kinda guy.”
“Got it,” I say with a deep sigh, leaning back on my bed. “I’m basically a fossil.”
“No, no, we’re not saying that,” Marco jumps in.
“Yeah, thanks, Marco,” I say, letting out a long exhale. “Well, best of luck with the… atmospheric synth-grunge thing.”
“We’ll send you tickets to the show!” Cam says, as if that’s supposed to make me feel better.
“Oh, can’t wait,” I reply drily. None of them get the sarcasm.
“Later, man!” Jesse says, and with a few crackles, the line goes dead.
I stare at the phone for a second, letting it all sink in. My own band just dropped me out of nowhere. Actually, scratch that. I knew they were up to something with all the looks and whispers over the last few weeks. I won’t be surprised if they’ve had my replacement lined up for a while.
I toss my phone down and stare at the ceiling, letting the news about the band sink in. But before I can fully process it, my phone lights up again. It’s Jax.
Jax and I met on the first day of freshman year, both wandering around campus trying to find the same Intro to Psych lecture hall. Jax looked like he belonged in the NFL (and he did) and had the easygoing attitude to match. We clicked right away, bonded over a shared love for bad horror movies and a mutual disdain for boring lectures. He’s a former hockey player, but after a rough injury cut his career short, he moved back home to focus on his own thing. Then a few years later, he had the genius idea of making social experiment videos online—“people eat this stuff up,” he’d said.
“Yo, Jax,” I answer, pinching the bridge of my nose. “What’s up?”
“Congratulations. You’re talking to a free agent,” I say, deadpan.
“Sounds like I’m catching you at an interesting time. What’s up?”
“Just got dropped from my own band, actually,” I say dryly.
There’s a beat of silence before he breaks into laughter. “Wait, you got booted? From the band that you put together?”
“Yep.” I shake my head, a smirk tugging at my lips despite myself. “Apparently, I’m holding back their new sound.”
“No kidding?” He whistles. “I was just about to call you with some updates on the channel, but, hey—this could be good. More time for Love Lab, right?”
Love Lab. Of course. Only Marcus could come up with a name like that and somehow keep a straight face. The idea’s not terrible; I’ll give him that. It’s got a little flair, and the concept is… out there, which I guess is the point.
Two years ago, we added Marcus, our third partner—a psychiatrist to our channel. And a few months ago, he came up with a groundbreaking concept he calls the Love Lab. He thinks people are endlessly fascinated by how romance works and wants to get experimental about it. Basically, he wants to put people into weird dating situations and see how they react. And that’s how we ended up here, trying to salvage our little online empire, one social experiment at a time. We haven’t launched it online yet, and only because it would mean totally revamping our entire channel. That could go sideways fast, something I’m hesitant to do.
“Listen, man,” I say, leaning back. “Love Lab’s a good concept, I get that. But I’m not changing our channel name for nothing.”
“It’s not nothing. You’ve got to start believing it,” Jax says.
“Sure, but you’ve seen the numbers. How many views did our last video get?”
“Yeah, yeah,” Jax says, brushing it off. “But this could be the one, Ethan. Think about it. People eat up reality dating shows like candy. Marcus has that whole ‘psychiatrist’s edge’—he can add something real to it. Plus, he says he’s willing to bring in some actual participants this time, not just the same crowd we’ve used for everything else.”
“Sure. But I’m just saying, it’s still a gamble.” I pinch the bridge of my nose, knowing I sound like a downer, but I can’t help it. “We can’t afford to keep throwing stuff at the wall, hoping it’ll stick. I don’t even know if Marcus’s angle is enough.”
Jax sighs. “You’re always a pessimist, man. Remember when we started this thing? We didn’t care about making bank, just wanted to have some fun and maybe make something out of it. Now we’ve got a concept that’s fresh, unique. We just need to find the right people.”
I shake my head. “And who’s gonna want to join a love experiment with three random guys running it?”
“That’s why we need to think big,” he says, clearly gearing up to try selling me on this for the hundredth time. “If we can land a few, you know, influential types or get someone who’ll really draw people in, we’ll be good.”
I snort. “Unless you’ve got some hidden connections, I’m all out of ideas on that front.”
I let out a slow breath, still unconvinced. “Jax, we’re a glorified science experiment at this point. I mean, what’s next, setting up fake dates and watching people crash and burn for a few laughs? People aren’t gonna buy it.”
“That’s exactly what they’re gonna buy, though!” he says, his voice rising with excitement. “Think about it, man. It’s real life, it’s messy, and it’s uncomfortable. People love that. Look at reality TV. We’ve been overthinking it this whole time—this is the way in.”
I shake my head. “I dunno, man. Reality TV? Playing ‘mad scientist’ with other people’s love lives? Feels kinda...cheap.”
“Cheap? Come on, this is gold, and you know it,” he says. “Marcus even came up with this whole psychological angle. Think of it like we’re actually helping people. People want advice on dating, but they also want to see how not to date. It’s all entertainment with a little social education mixed in.”
I snort. “Right. What exactly are we teaching here?”
“That we’re all a mess,” he says, laughing. “And that’s exactly why people are gonna watch it. Look, I get it. It’s not high art. But it’s also not us busting our heads trying to be deep and missing the mark by a mile. It’s simple. Fun. People want to be entertained, not educated.”
I run a hand through my hair. “Fine, but there’s a catch,” I say slowly. “If I’m gonna be on board with this, we’re not just doing blind dates and awkward first encounters. We need something fresh.”
“Done,” he says instantly. “In fact, Marcus already lined up a couple of ideas—thought you’d have some input too. You want weird? We’ll make it weird. Whatever it takes.”
I sigh, still skeptical but maybe just the tiniest bit intrigued. “All right. But I’m not betting my future on this one. Just… temper your expectations, okay?”
“Hey, this isn’t just some hail Mary,” he says, all confidence again. “This is the first real idea we’ve had in ages. And it’ll be good. I promise.”
“You’d better be right,” I say. “Because if we’re about to crash and burn, I’d rather go down with a little dignity.”
“Dignity?” he snorts. “Where we’re going, we don’t need dignity.”
I roll my eyes, but a part of me can’t help feeling like maybe, just maybe, Jax might be onto something.
After Jax’s call, I lace up my sneakers and head out for a run, hoping to shake off some of the doubts swirling around my mind. The fresh air helps, and as my feet pound the pavement, I focus on the rhythm of my breathing, trying to clear my head. By the time I make it back to my building, I feel halfway sane again, if not slightly winded.
As I round the corner to the front entrance, I almost plow straight into someone. I pull up short, managing to avoid a full-on collision, and look up to apologize, words dying on my lips as I take her in.
She’s… breathtaking.
She’s curvy—no, scratch that, she’s got this lush figure that draws the eye. Blonde hair falls in soft waves around her face, framing a pair of green eyes that practically glow, even in the fading light.
“Olivia?” I say, surprised, and as soon as the name leaves my mouth, her eyes widen a bit, flickering with recognition.
“Ethan?” She stops dead in her tracks, clearly just as caught off-guard as I am. “Wow. It’s… been a while.”
For a second, we both just stand there, taking each other in. I try to hide the fact that I’ve been staring, but she must notice, because a little smirk curls up at the edge of her mouth. I notice her gaze travel over me, lingering just long enough to be obvious before snapping back up to my face.
“Yeah, you could say that.” Her eyes flash, that quick, appraising look again, and it’s almost surreal. “You still look… well, you look the same. But more… grown up?”
“Is that a compliment?” I ask, chuckling, and I’m rewarded by another flash of her smile.
“Definitely,” she says, her tone playful.
“Well, look at you,” I say, trying to sound casual even though I’m still reeling a little. “You look… I mean, wow. Are you in Iversteen for a visit or…?”
Her cheeks color slightly, a soft pink that makes her even more striking. “I’m actually… moving back. Just for a while, though. Needed a change of scenery. Thought I’d get out of Austin for a bit, you know?”
“Good choice. And this is—wait, you’re staying here?” I gesture up at our building.
“Apparently,” she says with a laugh. “Heather’s letting me crash at her place while she’s out of town for work.”
“That’s wild,” I say, running a hand through my hair, trying to shake the shock. “Guess we’re neighbors now.”
“Seems like it.” Her eyes sparkle a bit, and she tilts her head to one side, clearly amused. “Small world, huh?”
“You can say that again,” I reply, then, catching myself, I add, “Hey, do you wanna grab a coffee? There’s a place just around the corner. Seems like it’s time we caught up.”
“Sure, why not?” she says, and there’s that smirk again, a little playful, a little curious. She adjusts her bag and follows me as we head toward the café.
We settle into a corner booth at the café, Olivia sliding her laptop onto the table between us as she pulls it open. She looks up, flashing a quick, apologetic smile. “Mind if I take care of a few things while we wait? It’s been a day already.”
“By all means,” I say, watching her fingers fly over the keyboard. Her eyes are glued to the screen, brows slightly furrowed. Whatever she’s working on, it’s got her attention.
After a minute of quiet, I lean forward. “You’ve got me curious. What’s going on?”
She sighs, sitting back as if she’s trying to shake off the weight of whatever’s on her mind. “So… you know I run a game company?”
“Yeah, Death Crunch, right?” I remember reading about it a while back. I hadn’t realized she was still running the whole thing, but then again, it’s Olivia. She’s always been ambitious.
She smiles, surprised. “You remember.”
“Hard to forget. So what’s got you looking like the weight of the world’s on your shoulders? Big project?”
“Big mess, more like,” she mutters with a sigh, then leans back, as if deciding she might as well share. “We’re actually trying to launch a dating simulator soon, but production’s been rocky. Alpha testing didn’t exactly go over well. We’re talking, like, some of the worst reviews we’ve ever gotten.”
I wince. “Ouch. That bad?”
“Let’s just say the reviews were honest. Which means our timeline’s shot, and the investors are on my case. It’s… well, a lot.” She sighs again, her expression softening as she looks over at me. “Sorry, didn’t mean to dump all of that on you.”
“No, not at all. Dating simulators, huh?” I laugh, shaking my head. “Funny coincidence, actually. I run this WeTube channel with a couple of friends. It’s called Love Lab. We do these… uh, social experiments, mostly around dating. Trying to figure out what people look for, what they hate, why they do what they do.”
Her interest piqued, she tilts her head. “Love Lab, huh?” She types it into her search bar, and I feel a slight pang of embarrassment as the channel pops up. We’ve had some highs and lows, and right now, we’re sitting pretty low.
“Yeah, well, we’re not exactly pulling in millions of views,” I say, rubbing the back of my neck. “But it’s fun. Well, it was fun until recently. Our channel’s been tanking. We’ve tried everything, but nothing seems to stick. We’re basically down to our last idea—and, surprise, surprise, it’s another dating angle.”
“This is actually pretty clever,” she says, leaning back as she continues to watch. “So you and your friends just… dissect people’s dating moves?”
“More or less. We thought we could get viewers with, you know, funny and awkward moments while adding a touch of insight. But…” I trail off.
“Low budget?” she guesses, smiling.
“Oh, way low. We’re talking shoestrings and pocket change.” I shrug. “We’re definitely not doing as well as you did with Death Crunch. Jax is our main sponsor for now.” And even he’s running out of money.
“Jax Thompson?” she says. “The hockey player?”
“Yep,” I say. “But enough about me. You’re doing amazing work. If you have any tips for us, I’m all ears. Would love to learn from the expert.”
Olivia lets out a laugh, but there’s an edge to it, a kind of bitterness that surprises me. She shakes her head, closing her laptop and staring down at her coffee.
“Dating,” she says, with a rueful smile. “Let’s just say I’m probably the last person who should be giving advice on it. My personal life’s a bit of a... well, you remember that whole train-wreck phase back in college?”
“Oh, yeah,” I say, laughing. “The infamous Ben incident. Pretty sure half the campus heard about that one.”
She groans, putting her face in her hands. “Please, don’t remind me. Apparently, my luck with dating hasn’t improved much since then. I had a date just last week, actually. Some guy my friend set me up with. He walked in, saw me, and his first words were, ‘Oh, you’re... different than I imagined.’ By dessert, he was ‘suddenly’ called to a meeting at his gym. His gym , Ethan. On a Saturday night.”
“He seriously ditched you?’
“Left me with the check, too,” she says, rolling her eyes. “So, yeah. Bit of an ironic twist that I’m working on a dating simulator, given that my own dating life is pretty much a horror game at this point.”
I try to keep a straight face, but I can’t help laughing. “So, you’re saying you’re as much of an expert on what not to do as we are?”
“Exactly,” she says, laughing. “Though, hey, maybe that’s what people want. A brutally honest take on modern dating disasters. We could probably scare more people off dating than anything else.”
“Hey, that sounds like a niche,” I say, grinning when an idea strikes me, and before I’ve thought it through, I’m already saying it.
“You should come on the show and meet some men here.”
Olivia raises an eyebrow, her mouth twitching like she’s caught between laughing and looking for an exit. “You’re joking, right?”
“Nope. I’m serious,” I say, feeling that spark of a good idea start to catch fire. “Think about it, Liv. You’re here for a while, right? You’re working on this dating sim that needs some serious real-life inspiration. What better way to do some hands-on research?”
She narrows her eyes at me. “That’s…”
“The best idea I’ve ever had,” I say. “You’ve got the whole ‘disaster dating life’ angle—you just said so yourself. People would eat it up. You’d be this relatable, down-to-earth person diving back into the dating scene after a rough start. And I’m telling you, our viewers would love it.”
She stares at me, expression half-skeptical, half-intrigued. I can see her doing the math, probably trying to find all the ways this could crash and burn.
“What would that even look like?” she asks, hesitantly.
“Well, we’d set you up with a few of the most eligible bachelors this city has to offer, and you’d go on some dates. Nothing too heavy. Just see if any of it clicks—or if it’s a total train wreck. Either way, it’s good TV.”
Olivia crosses her arms, giving me a look. “And what happens if it is a total train wreck?”
“Don’t worry about that for now. Guys would line up to date you,” I say, and I really mean it.
She observes me, a strange look passing over her eyes.
“You’ve got a way of making a terrible idea sound almost reasonable, you know that?”
“It’s a gift,” I say, giving her my best hopeful smile. “So, what do you think? You game?”
She sighs, but there’s a spark of interest in her eyes. “I’ll think about it.”