Oli
ALPHA TEA GOSSIP COLUMN
INSIDE SOURCE REVEALS TREVOR DAVIS, MANAGER OF OLI HART AND THE EDGE, WAS FIRED IN MASSIVE SCENE IN NEW ORLEANS
June 5th
S lumped on the worn leather couch in the dressing room, I rake my fingers through the thick waves of my hair, each strand rebelling as much as my vocal cords. The boys are scattered around me, their expressions a mix of concern and denial. The air buzzes with tension.
Our security team is right outside the door.
“I won’t be able to sing tonight,” I groan, letting my head fall back against the cushion.
Dax paces like a caged animal, his brow furrowed. Aiden fiddles with his shirt, and Chase is silent, looking like he’s trying to solve a puzzle.
“Then we have to cancel the show tonight,” Jack finally says, his voice a low rumble.
“I’ve never canceled a show,” I snap back, the frustration clawing up inside me.
Chase sits down next to me and puts an arm around me. “I know, , but you were attacked. That isn’t your fault. We need to let you heal; if you strain your voice tonight, it could damage it forever. You heard the doctor.”
Aiden kneels and stares into my eyes. “You’re always putting your fans first, like you did after your heat, but we will prioritize you this time.”
“But-” A sudden knock at the door cuts me off. It’s sharp and insistent.
We freeze, glances ricocheting across the room, and a collective unease settles over us. Jack straightens up, muscles flexing under his fitted tee as he moves toward the door.
“Expecting someone?” I ask, voice tinged with suspicion.
“There’s a Miranda Maters out here for you,” one of the twins from the Phoenix Pack says through the door.
Jack opens it, and in strides the manager I picked out of the options Anders sent me.
Her heels click a staccato rhythm against the floor. Her sharp lines and tailored clothes hug her figure in a way that screams, ‘I’m in charge, and I won’t apologize for it.’
“ Hart,” she announces, her voice cutting through the thick tension like a knife through butter. “I’m Miranda Maters. Your new manager, if you’ll have me.”
My eyes can’t help but widen as I take in the sight of her. For a moment, I forget about my bruised vocal cords, the looming threat of a canceled show, and the anxiety eating at me like acid. It’s like watching a storm roll in—beautiful, mesmerizing, and utterly terrifying.
Miranda extends a hand; her grip is as firm as her resolve, and I can’t help but feel a spark of something—admiration, maybe, or hope—as her smile warms me from the inside out.
“Miranda.” My own smile feels like a reflex. “It’s nice to meet you.”
She’s looking at me respectfully and focusing on me first instead of the alphas in the room, even though she’s a beta.
I can feel Chase’s hope through our bond.
“This is The Edge, who you will also be managing.” I point to each of them and say their names. She shakes their hands as well.
We sit at the cluttered table. Miranda opens her briefcase and pulls out a chaos of papers and plans.
Jack is watching Miranda’s every move; Dax’s arms are crossed, his hazel gaze sharp and assessing; Aiden’s perched on the edge of another chair, silent but supportive; and Chase, well, he’s drumming his fingers on his thigh, a rhythm that seems to echo the palpitations in my heart.
“Alright, let’s hash this out,” Miranda says, sounding every bit the rockstar manager she is. She doesn’t just fill the room; she commands it. “I would like to bring your personal security team in on this so we can be on the same page if that’s okay with you.”
“That’s a great idea. I will grab them,” Jack says.
The Phoenix Pack files into the room with stoic faces and gathers around our table.
“Anders filled me in, and to be blunt, your last manager left a mess. I’ve reinstated your original security and fired the new team. You should recognize them, but to be sure, I would like to assign someone from your private security to check badges at each location.”
I look at Saint, and he nods his affirmation.
“Great idea,” I say.
“Excellent. I will be personally running any new personnel by one of you, but we are trying to lock the tour down; no new people in or out. Which means I am canceling meet and greets from now on. It’s too risky,” Miranda looks into my eyes as she says it.
“We appreciate you taking ’s safety seriously,” Jack says.
“It always should have been priority number one. Now, I’ve also been briefed on your throat, and I understand that you need time without singing to heal. Is that correct?”
I bite my lip, glancing at the faces of my alphas. “Yes, that’s right, but I don’t want to disappoint my fans.”
“Here’s what I’m thinking,” Miranda continues, tapping the schedule, “ lip-syncs for the next few gigs. It’ll give your voice the break it needs without letting down the fans.”
My heart skips a beat. I’m not sure if it’s from hope or fear. Lip-sync? The idea feels foreign, almost dirty, against the raw authenticity I’ve always strived for.
“Isn’t that risky?” I muster the courage to voice my concern. “I mean, won’t people notice? What if they think I’m…I don’t know, a fraud?”
“, you’re anything but,” Jack interjects, his grin unwavering. “You’re the real deal. Everyone knows that. They won’t know you’re lip-syncing.”
“Exactly,” Dax grunts, nodding. “It’s just a temporary fix. Better than canceling.”
“Your voice will heal,” Aiden adds quietly, his words a soothing balm. “We just need to be patient.”
“Besides,” Chase chimes in, his smile wicked, “we’ll make sure the show’s so electrifying, they won’t have any idea.”
Laughter bubbles up inside me despite the gnawing worry—trust Chase to lighten the mood with his cheeky charm.
“Think of it as a new challenge,” Miranda urges. “A way to connect with your fans in a different style. Show them you’re versatile.”
I consider her words, rolling them over in my mind. That’s one way to put it. But there’s still this nagging thought, an itch I can’t scratch away—will my voice be the same when it comes back?
“I can’t promise my voice will return to normal after this.” The words slip out, vulnerable and coated with a thin layer of dread.
Miranda meets my eyes, steady and sure. “No one can promise that, . But I believe in you, in your resilience. You’re not alone in this.”
I sit there, thinking about what this means for me.
Miranda leans forward, her eyes locking onto mine like she’s peering into the very core of my soul.
“,” she starts, and this soothing lilt in her voice feels like a balm to my frayed nerves. “You’ve got this amazing spark in you, this fire that lights up every stage you step on. Your voice? It’s just one part of your magic.” Her words wrap around me, warm and comforting.
I chew on my lip, absorbing her reassurance. She believes in me, truly believes. And isn’t that what I need right now? Someone to hold up a mirror and remind me who the hell I am?
“Okay,” I say, finally, my voice more assertive than expected. “Let’s try it.”
Chase whoops. “This means we don’t have to cancel any shows, and we still get to perform with our perfect omega!”
He wraps his arms around me and presses a kiss to the top of my head.
A laugh bubbles up from my throat, surprising me. It’s light and carefree; somehow, everything seems less heavy now. Miranda has this way about her, making you feel like you can conquer the world with a snap of your fingers.
In thirty minutes, she’s been a better manager than Trevor ever was.