21. Creed
Chapter 21
Creed
I head towards our studio on the main level where we keep our main computer and open the link Steve sent. He acts like he’s come from the age of the fucking dinosaurs, having us use old school technology for communication when he knows we’ve all got phones capable of video calls. Steve may be a dumb fucker most of the time, but he’s been the one to book all of the gigs that got us to where we are today, so that’s why we keep him around.
A few seconds later my screen is flooded with the faces of all my favorite people. And Steve. Tony, too, I guess.
So maybe I’m just talking about Bear and Ayla.
Whatever.
We all greet each other but even through the camera I can tell that everyone is either tired or miserable. Ayla is the only one who looks remotely put together.
Riley comes in a moment later and sits next to me, his face popping up in the frame of the video call.
“Boys, it’s good to see all your smiling faces today.” Steve greets us, his intended sarcasm missing the mark because his comment is answered with stark silence and a tired scowl marring all of our faces. “Okay, let’s just dive right into it, then. I’m calling you today because I just spoke with Gianni DiRusso, the producer and manager for As We Stand .”
“Alright,” I start, dragging the word out slowly.
As We Stand is a newer, popular metalcore band that’s been touring for about three years now, each of their venues getting bigger than the last. Their music is fucking phenomenal and I became quick friends with their lead singer when they landed the opening spot for us two years ago during our Darkest Blessings tour.
“And what does that have to do with us?” Bear asks, shifting back in his seat.
“Well, I was informed early this morning that Jake Rite is currently in recovery after having several vocal polyps surgically removed and will be in therapy for several weeks, followed by a lengthy recovery and rest period afterward.”
“Oh, fuck.” Tony says, dragging a hand through his buzz cut.
“That fucking sucks.” I mutter under my breath. Because, oh, fuck is right. I know all too well about vocal polyps after what Collins went through as a kid. It sucks to hear it was bad enough that Jake needed surgery, but I’m relieved that he’s getting therapy. Collins wasn’t so lucky and that’s why she sounds like she’s in a constant state of losing her voice. Still cute as fuck to listen to her talk, though.
My mind wanders back to my friend and what Steve just said. Hopefully he can make a full recovery and get back into the music world without complication.
Steve continues as if this shitty news is the equivalent of discussing the weather. “If you haven’t put two and two together, this has opened up another touring opportunity for Dark Sins as they’ll be unable to perform without their lead singer.”
“Are you saying we’ll be taking their place on tour?” Riley asks beside me.
“Hey, we ain’t no second string opening act, Steve. So you can fuck right off with that nonsense.” Tony scoffs, lighting up a cigarette and blowing the smoke at the camera .
“They’re not a fucking opening act either, Ritz.” I retort, “They’ve been selling out stadiums as the main event for a year now so shut the fuck up and let him speak.”
“Don’t you get fuckin’ pissy with me?—”
“Everyone shut the fuck up!” Steve yells and I fight the urge to roll my eyes at his bravado. Riley groans quietly next to me as Bear audibly sighs as he pinches the skin between his eyes with his thumb and forefinger, and Tony looks like he’s ready to murder someone just for being told what to do. Everyone is fucking tired and crabby as shit from the lack of sleep after back to back concerts and traveling back home for nearly twenty-four hours straight. We all needed this time off to recoup and of course Steve couldn’t stop chasing the dollar signs like a dog chasing a damn bone long enough to let us just breathe.
He clears his throat and smooths a stubby-fingered hand over his thinning hair. “It’s a three month tour, sixty-three concerts luckily all within the U.S. No international travel. Also, because you’re the first band they sought to call, and because it was a request brought upon us emergently last minute, they’re willing to pay you an additional fifteen percent on top of the earnings from ticket sales.”
Wow. That’s quite a bit, considering how much Jake’s band has been raking in at these concerts. But we don’t need the money. At least Bear, Riley and I don’t. Tony likes to piss his money away on booze and clubs like the one we wound up at last night. The only thing we refuse to go near are drugs of any kind. Too many of us have some kind of trauma related to substance abuse and we try our fucking hardest to stay out of a negative spotlight. I don’t think it stops T from sneaking them and he’s not as secretive as he thinks he is. Ritz was clearly on something last night and we all know it.
We may be rockstars in a metalcore band, but we like to think we’re good guys. Socially, at least. Though I doubt lusting after my best friend’s little sister who’s nine years younger than me would count as making me a model citizen. Majority of my thoughts that revolve around her are downright sinful but I can’t bring myself to worry about that right now.
Right now, we’ve got bigger issues. As Ayla talks to Steve about numbers and logistics as well as publicity, I zone out. My thoughts drifting back to Collins.
Fucking Christ.
I just fucking found her by accident—working as an exotic dancer and aerial artist at a club, of all things, run by a real piece of shit—and I’ll be damned if I let her out of my sight again. Collins was destined to do amazing things in her life, and it feels like a fucking knife to the heart to know that this is what she wound up doing just to survive. Not live. Survive. Not as a passion job, but out of desperation and necessity from being on her own, no doubt.
I know we need to tell Asher because he’s been going out of his mind with worry when he’s not sleeping or working. Last I spoke to him, he’d told me that some shit went down at the club with the owner and his two brothers so he’s been working some crazy hours as part of their security team rather than a bartender after they lost several employees.
Lost; as in dead.
Some crazy underground gang-related shit.
There’s not a snowball’s chance in hell I will allow Collins to stay there with him right now. Not only does he live in a one bedroom apartment, but it’s also not safe for her to be there right now. Not when he tells me that there’s some unknown threat still out there. I know I’ll somehow have to make sure he sees his little sister though. However, judging from the last letter she sent me, she hasn’t spoken to him in years. The years Ash was either in rehab or battling the embarrassment of having to seek such help.
Then there’s this concert opportunity. As much as I don’t want to pick up and start touring all over again without a break or even new songs to debut, the money is tempting, but not for me.
I could take my portion of the earnings and set them aside for Collins. Make sure she’s secure financially for the foreseeable future .
Of course, I think all of this as if I have any intention of letting her go.
Fat fucking chance.
“What do you think, Creed?” I’m so lost in thought that Ayla’s voice barely sounds like a muffled murmur.
I don’t snap out of it until I feel the back of Riley’s fist smack against the side of my thigh, shoving it lightly to get my attention. I jerk at his touch and he yanks his hand back as if I’d slapped him. I give him a quick sideways glance and see him wide eyed as if to tell me answer the girl, asswipe . I cock a brow at him and open my mouth to say something sarcastic, but a flash of movement on the computer screen snags my attention again.
“Helloooo? Earth to Creed St. James!” Ayla yells at me while waving her pale hand in front of the camera, trying to reel me back to reality.
“I’m sorry, what did you ask?” I blurt, giving away the fact that I was not, indeed, paying attention.
“I asked if this concert is something you want to take on, considering you’ve just wrapped up your European tour…” she glances down at her phone before looking back at me. “Thirty-three hours ago.”
“When does this stand-in tour start?” I ask.
“This Friday.”
Shit.
“Give me a second? You guys discuss this amongst yourselves for a second and I’ll be back.”
I don’t give them time to respond before I mute my microphone and cover my camera with a sticky note. I turn to Riley, sighing. “What do you think, man?”
Riley’s eyes volley back and forth as he stares at the ground, a tell-tale sign that he’s thinking deeply, as if he’s scanning both sides of a pros and cons list in his head.
He seems to finally come to a conclusion when lifts his head and blows out a breath. “I know we just got back, and I was really looking forward to just doing nothing for a minute before diving back into the music world.”
My heart sinks for a minute because I see the truth written all over his face. He wants the break, needs it. Hell, we all do. “Yeah, okay?—”
“ But, Jake is a really good guy, and what happened to him wasn’t his fault. I think it’s pretty big of him to not leave his fans disappointed with no show at all, wanting to still give them some entertainment in his absence, even if he gets nothing from it.”
I nod because, shit, he’s right. I open my mouth to voice as such but he blurts out, “and I think Collins should go with us.”
His eyes go wide and mirror my own expression because even though I know he took a quick liking to Collins based on their interaction this morning, I didn’t expect wanting her to come along to become his idea.
“I agree, with all of that, actually.” I reply softly, the corner of my mouth quirking up.
“You do? I mean, I know she’s like your family and I don’t want to overstep, but I don’t think she should be alone. I don’t know why she’d want to willingly go back to that shithole of a club, other than the fact that she’s straight up talented and actually likes doing that aerial dancing stuff. But I can almost guarantee we can find her a studio to dance to her heart's content in every city we stop in. So, I think we should ask her to come with us, u-until we can figure out the next step.” He rambles at a rapid fire speed.
“Hey, don’t worry about it, Ri. I was going to say the same thing to you, actually. I won’t be letting her out of my sight anytime soon. We’ll talk to her after we wrap up with Steve here.” He nods and I smile wide at him, my grin nearly feral with excitement, the plan taking form before my eyes. I nod toward the computer. “You ready?”
He nods, his own smile taking over his face so devilish and wild that it makes sense of why Riley was dubbed the Sinful Saint. One magazine had snapped a photo of Riley smiling similarly behind his drum set during a show and they said that Riley’s smile is one that could convince a nun to do sinful things.
Even I can appreciate the beauty of a man’s body, and based on what I witnessed this morning, Collins knows how to appreciate it, too. I didn’t miss the way her eyes lingered on his chest while he was too distracted flipping pancakes.
Then it hits me. Collins won’t have a choice but to go with us. She’ll be in close proximity to not only me, but Riley, too. Riley with the sinful smile.
I know it’s not a competition and she’s not the consolation prize, but that doesn’t mean I won’t play the game better to win her over if it comes down to it. Who says there can’t be more than one winner, anyway? This line I’ve drawn between us is only temporary, after all.
We just need to tell the feisty little minx that she’ll be tagging along, first. Right after I apologize for being an ass.
We wrap up the call and leave the recording studio and head toward the back where Collins is hanging out by the pool.
Fuck. Here we go.