Into The End

Prologue

Alara

I f this show doesn't work out, I should start offering blowjobs to get meetings with talent scouts or record labels.

I doubt any of the guys will like that, but it's my body.

I'm not opposed to doing what I have to, especially if it gets our band the visibility we deserve.

I get sexualized anyway. Why not make it worth it?

We're meant to make it big. I can feel it in my bones. It took three years of busting our asses at dive bars, but we finally have the chance of a lifetime. You know, that one moment in every musician's life where it could make or break their future. This feels like ours.

Breathe . The thought bounces around my head as I try another attempt at mentally gaslighting myself. Everything is fine. It's no big deal. This isn’t going to change anything. Except, that’s the point. This could change everything.

If you aren't part of the music circuit, you wouldn't understand the gravity of what we're about to do. We have a spot on stage at Vector's Lounge, the same place that’s responsible for discovering no less than five of the biggest bands over the last decade. Yeah, no pressure at all .

I shake my hands at my sides, trying to get the nerves out while pacing in circles. The crowd we’re about to sing in front of is always littered with people from the music industry searching for the next big thing. How the hell am I going to make it through this damn performance?

"Hey," Ender calls out as he walks toward me, eyes full of concern.

As soon as he gets close enough, my arms instinctively wrap themselves around the safety of his waist. I breathe in his signature sandalwood scent, taking comfort in him. It’s earthy, like being surrounded by trees on a warm summer day. That’s exactly where I need to imagine myself right now.

Ender must realize I need of encouragement because he gently places his hand on the side of my cheek. "We're going to be fine, siren."

"What if we mess up?" The nerves slither right back to the forefront of my mind.

"No more what-ifs. Just focus on doing what you do best. Woo people with that gorgeous voice of yours." He winks before leaning down to press his lips against my forehead.

He and I have never crossed that imaginary friendship boundary, but something unspoken has been building between us. It’s the same with the rest of the band. They feel like home, each one unique in their own way.

My eyes fall closed as I take another deep breath before slowly blinking them open. "Look where we are." I gesture with my hand .

"It's just another stage with another crowd."

"It's not," I protest.

“Yes, it is. Every show is a stage and a crowd. The five of us are just here doing what we love." He pauses and then, out of nowhere, does the last thing I expect.

His soft mouth presses against mine, giving my body whiplash as his tongue sweeps across my bottom lip. I whimper when he deepens the kiss, sliding one hand down over my ass and tightening the other around my waist. As quickly as the moment began, it’s over, and he pulls away.

My eyes meet his, unsure of what to make of this, considering we’ve never kissed before. Why did he choose now? What does this mean for our band? Shit. At least now I’m not overthinking our performance.

"You kissed me," I say with a shaky breath, bringing my fingers up to touch my lips.

"You needed something else to obsess over." He winks before casually backing away from me.

"Am I interrupting something?" Lane walks up with his bass in hand. "We only have five minutes before showtime. You probably only need two, but still."

"Sorry, Alara, that means he might leave you hanging." River steps out from behind Lane, throwing the strap of his guitar over his shoulder.

"Two minutes is pretty generous," Rocky, Ender’s older brother, says as he joins the rest of us.

“You’re all ridiculous.” I roll my eyes .

What if it creates some kind of power imbalance with the rest of the band? Stupid Ender. I could kick his ass for making my brain melt at the worst possible time.

“We’re up.” River smiles.

"I've got you the whole time," Ender reassures me as he turns to grab the two microphones from the chair behind him before offering me one. "If it feels like too much, pretend the crowd isn’t there. Sing to me instead."

Sing to him. I can do that.

We receive our cue, and I step forward, palms beginning to sweat.

Lane glances over, giving me a half smile and wink combo.

None of the guys seem as nervous as I am, but maybe they’re better at hiding it.

One by one, we take our places on stage.

I turn and lock eyes with Ender, and he smiles, nodding ever so slightly. We've got this.

"How's everyone doing tonight?” Ender’s voice is amplified as he pauses for the room to clap. "Thank you so much for braving that rare Los Angeles rain to join us. My name is Ender, and I'll be singing tonight alongside Alara. Isn’t she beautiful?"

I wave through the bright lights, a slight blush creeping up my cheeks.

"On the drums is my brother, Rocky." Ender points toward him, and Rocky slams across the line of drums before tapping on one of the cymbals. "We've got Lane on bass, and River on guitar." The two of them strike three notes in unison.

This is my cue. I'm supposed to talk now, except I don’t. There’s an awkward silence with me standing there, completely frozen. You’d think this is my first time on stage with how I’m acting.

Ender realizes my slip-up and covers for me. "We will be singing a song Alara wrote called 'Promised Word'."

With that, he takes a step back, and the stage goes dark.

My heart slams, racing faster than it ever has before.

This is our moment. I raise my microphone as River strums his guitar.

Lane mimics River’s actions with his bass, and just like that, we start the performance of a lifetime.

The lights begin flashing, and the words flow right out of me.

"We are the night," I sing before Ender joins me in unison, "shining in the shadows of forever. We long to be together, in the darkness of nowhere forever."

The lyrics rush out, and my body sways to the beat as I find my confidence. Ender beams in my direction, eyes shining with pride as we take a brief pause for Rocky’s drum solo. Everyone claps, coming more to life the further we get into the song. We’re killing it.

A few moments later, I prepare for a screaming note. "You areeeee," I bend forward, giving everything I have while Ender harmonizes his line. "The light that pulls from within."

"The light that pulls from within," the two of us sing again, continuing to serenade the crowd.

Lane and River step forward, taking center stage for their duo, and the crowd cheers louder. It’s exactly the kind of reaction we’re after. The two of them have always had this natural chemistry that people love seeing on stage .

I take center stage again to sing the last few lines as soon as River and Lane finish up. "Together. The life you live like a promised word."

My hips sway, dancing to the beat. Finally, we close out the song, both Ender and I lean backward, screaming “into our end forever,” at the top of our lungs.

The song ends, and the stage goes black as I try to catch my breath, adrenaline flooding every part of my body. Holy fucking shit. We sang our hearts out, and they absolutely loved it!

I rush over to the side of the stage, squealing, "We did it!”

"I think that was the best we've ever played. Ender, your voice was wild." River slaps him on the shoulder. “Yours too, Alara.”

"Let's grab a drink. We've earned it," Rocky suggests as Lane and River stuff their guitars into their cases.

The only thing left to do is wait. That’s how it works here.

All the artists are given a numbered table.

You play your song, and then hang around to see if you’ve sparked anyone’s interest. If someone wants to work with you, they will approach your table, and if nobody comes up by the end of the night, then better luck next time.

"Five beers," Rocky tells the bartender.

"IDs." The bartender points her finger at each of us, and her eyes linger on Ender a second longer than they should.

It doesn’t surprise me. He’s never had any issue getting attention from women; none of them have. Every one of them is too good-looking for their own good. After glancing at our IDs, she quickly grabs the beers, pops the caps off of each one, and places them in front of us.

"Our table’s in the corner." Lane points before we pile into the surrounding seats.

We’re in the back, and it gives us the perfect view of anyone potentially headed in our direction. They wouldn’t come over here unless it’s intentional.

"I think it's going to happen." I grin at the guys before taking a sip of my beer.

"I guess we’ll find out." Rocky shrugs, trying to pretend like he doesn’t care. I know he does. We all do.

The evening drags along as artist after artist takes their turn singing, and doubt starts creeping in. I down the rest of my third or fourth beer, who actually knows, when a short bald man strides up to the edge of our table.

"Hi there. Glen Perkins with WORD Media. I'd love to talk with you if you have a moment." He nods at Ender, River, Lane, and Rocky, but this fucker doesn’t even glance my way. He just completely ignored my existence.

What a slimy little shit. This isn’t what I had in mind when I pictured someone talking to us, but it’s fine. If this is what it takes to get a chance at making it big, I’ll swallow my pride. It’s not the first time in history that a woman has been treated as less than.

"You guys have something going for you. There’s grit and passion. I love your sound. The ladies will eat you up." Glen smiles. "Here's my card. Give me a call so we can get a formal meeting set up on Monday."

"That soon?" I ask, forcing him to acknowledge me.

When his eyes finally meet mine, there’s a glint of something I can’t quite place. His top lip tilts up in a slight sneer. I stare at it for a moment purely in disbelief. Is he really treating me like I don’t matter? No. My mind must be cloudy from the alcohol.

"There's no time to waste in show business, sweetheart. Why don’t you leave the shoptalk to the men?" He dismisses me, looking back to Ender again.

I hone in on the colossal mole on the side of his face. My head tilts to the side as I study the unreasonably large hair that protrudes from his mole with the perfect curl. Part of me wonders if he took the time to curl it himself. Huh. It looks like he’s ugly on the inside and the outside.

"If we fine-tune a few things, I think you could be the next big hit. Look at you. The women would go feral for the four of you."

Four of them. I bite my tongue, trying not to squander the opportunity, but he’s definitely excluding me.

“We can discuss things during our meeting. I think I could be a great manager for you if you’re open to it."

"A manager?" Ender cocks a brow.

"It's something we have to discuss as a group," River says, not wanting any of us to get too excited.

"No, of course. Let's focus on getting the right eyes on you first. I have big plans. And that song? That’s going to be a hit. "

It’s my song, asshole.

"We’ll see you Monday," Ender says

Glen nods, giving me one last glance while muttering something under his breath before walking away.

I should be excited. I should want to toast to our dreams coming true, but something feels off.

He said the four of them, and told me to let the men talk.

I guarantee that weasel is going to try to exclude me from everything.