Oli
PACK EM UP GOSSIP COLUMN
WILL WE SEE BOND MARKS AT THE SHOW IN LONDON FROM OLI HART AND THE EDGE?
July 4th
T he melody is like a lover’s touch, familiar yet thrillingly new. When I open my eyes again, Dax is watching me, and there’s no mistaking the challenge in his expression. Sing to me, it says.
My raw and unguarded voice joins the melody, and lyrics pour out like secrets shared between soulmates. The song is ours, a story told in chords and choruses, and I lose myself in its telling. Dax plays as if he’s possessed, each note from his bass a heartbeat that drives the song forward.
There’s heat here, in this moment, something that can’t be contained within the walls of our studio. Our gazes lock, and it’s as if the world falls away—just Dax and me and the music that courses through us both. My body sways with every line I sing, drawn inexorably toward him, orbiting the gravity of his presence.
Dax steps up to the secondary mic, his voice joining mine in perfect harmony. The blend of our voices is intimate, a duet that speaks of desire and longing and the sheer exhilaration of making art with someone who understands you down to your bones.
The song crescendos, and our voices soar together, a tangle of melody and emotion that feels like flying. I’m smiling now, unable not to, because how could I not find joy in this? In the creation, connection, and undeniable attraction that thrums between us like a living thing.
We finish the song on a note that hangs in the air, vibrant and alive. Dax is breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling in time with the fading echoes of our performance. His look is one of admiration, respect, and something more.
The last note of our duet fades, leaving a charged silence in its wake. I’m riding the high, feeling every bit of the rockstar with Dax’s lyrics still burning on my tongue.
“Damn,” I whisper, the word barely audible over the ringing in my ears. “That was…”
“Electric,” Dax finishes for me, his voice rough around the edges. And it was. It is. We are.
“Can’t wait to do it all over again,” I say, already eager for the next time we’ll share this space, this energy.
“Me neither, ,” he replies, his hand brushing mine as he passes by, leaving behind a spark that promises to ignite into something unforgettable.
Aiden leans against his keyboard, his shy smile barely visible under the shadow of his spiked black hair.
“Killed it, ,” he says, and even though his voice is soft, it thrums with pride.
We just recorded Dax’s song for me, ‘Love’s Mistake,’ and it was perfect.
Now, it’s time to record my duet with Aiden, ‘Uncovered.’
We are one band and will release these songs as our first announcement to the world.
I sit next to Aiden and join him. As Aiden’s fingers grace the keyboard again, the new song’s first words slip from me like a promise. The alphas’ presence wraps around me, a cocoon of warmth and possibility, and I know we’re about to create something extraordinary.
Performing with these alphas is where I was always meant to be.
I feel a soul-deep connection to my shy alpha as we tell the story of how we met and the sparks that flew from the first moment.
As we finish, a palpable and electric sense of accomplishment fills the room. We exchange high-fives and satisfied nods, knowing we’re onto something big.
“I can’t wait to hear how it all comes together once the sound engineer works their magic,” I say, feeling the weight and thrill of what lies ahead.
Jack checks his watch. “We need to get going for our flight to London.”
We all rush out of the studio and into the car waiting for us. The security team is there, and we all pile into three cars to get to the airport.
Miranda and Riley are there waiting for us, but I’m shocked not to see that asshole Brad.
Quickly, I pull Riley aside and ask, “Where is Brad? I thought he was coming with you?”
Riley’s lower lip trembles, but she pushes through and smiles at me. “We broke up.”
I can’t help but feel a little relief. My most recent interactions with him have shown me he’s not the guy I thought he was. But still, Riley is sad, and we can’t have that.
“I’m so sorry. Let’s get you on this flight and a glass of champagne.”
Once we are seated, I tell my alphas to leave us alone and focus back on Riley.
“Things weren’t going well at the end. He put on this nice facade, but it crumbled when I started talking about leaving for Europe again. He wanted me to stay home with him and focus on his work and his life. It just didn’t work out.”
“You deserve better than that, Riley.”
I hold her close, and we sit together, soaking each other in. I can feel her sadness radiating off her, but there’s also a determination to move on.
Most of us spend the flight to London sleeping, eating, and trying to entertain ourselves. Miranda discusses logistics, and Riley covers the interview we will have as soon as we land to discuss our relationship.
I’m nervous, but Jack reassures me that he will handle most of the talking, and I can just chime in when I want without having to worry.
Riley squeals as I tell her I need to schedule a spa day with Cate and invite her to join us. She tries to keep things professional and says she needs to work, but I insist otherwise. She needs this after her breakup with Brad.
We are ushered into a hotel room for the interview as soon as we land.
The plush fibers of the sofa cushion under me twist as I fidget, my fingers running through my rose-gold hair for probably the hundredth time. The hotel room feels too big and quiet, even with Chase drumming his hands against the table, filling up some of the silence. His blue eyes catch mine, a hint of mischief dancing in them, and he shoots me that signature grin that says ‘relax’ without him uttering a word.
“Relax, baby girl,” Jack murmurs. “You’ve got this. We’ve got this.”
I flash him a shaky smile, trying to soak up his confidence like it’s the morning sun. My heart always does this weird skip-jump thing when he’s close, but now’s not the time for butterflies. We’re about to spill our guts to an interviewer, and I’m a cocktail of nerves and excitement.
The door clicks open, and my gaze snaps to the entryway. This is it.
“Hello! I hope I’m not interrupting.” A warm smile greets us before we see the face it belongs to. The interviewer steps into the room, all polished professionalism yet somehow radiating a vibe that’s more coffee shop than boardroom. She extends a hand, firm and sure.
“Hi, I’m .” I stand and my legs are a little wobbly, but I manage to keep my voice steady. Adrenaline courses through me, part fear, part thrill. Her grip is reassuring, grounding me back to the here and now.
“Nice to meet you, . I’m Tory with Omega Buzz. I’ve been looking forward to chatting with you and the band.” Her eyes flicker with genuine interest, and something inside me settles. Maybe this won’t be so bad after all.
“Likewise,” I reply, my smile finding its way to my lips. It’s easier now, with her friendly demeanor. All I have to do is follow the script of pleasantries and let the conversation flow from there.
I am usually better with the press, but this is a huge announcement.
Chase rises next. He’s all rockstar swagger as he shakes hands, the playful glint never leaving his gaze. I watch the exchange, a silent laugh bubbling from my core. That’s Chase for you—nothing but easy charm and effortless cool.
Jack is strong and commanding, while Aiden stays back and waves. Dax just ignores her.
“Great to meet you,” Jack says, his voice smooth like honey and just as sweet. “We’re excited to get started.”
The energy in the room shifts, anticipation crackling between us all. I take another deep breath, ready to dive into our story. With Jack by my side and the rest of the band within arm’s reach, I feel a surge of boldness.
The plush cushions of the sofa dip as we all find our spots, and there is an odd sense of ceremony in how we arrange ourselves. The interviewer, notebook at the ready, flashes us another one of those disarming smiles before launching into the first question: “How did it all come together? The band’s formation must be quite a story.”
“It is,” I say, tucking a strand of rose gold hair behind my ear. “My band got an opportunity to have their own show, and so I needed a band while The Edge needed a lead singer, so we combined our tours.”
“Like two puzzle pieces that didn’t even know they were missing each other,” Chase adds, his smile genuine now, his usual playfulness replaced by something softer.
The shift in the room is palpable as the topic veers into more personal territory. I lean forward, my fingers entwining with Jack’s as he says, “It’s more than just music for us now,” his voice carrying a hint of wonder. “We’ve evolved. It’s not every day that a band becomes a pack. But here we are, alphas and an omega.”
“Love tends to do that to you, doesn’t it?” The interviewer observes, a knowing smile gracing her lips.
Aiden’s gaze softens, and Chase’s ever-present smirk takes on a gentler curve.
“Speaking of frequencies,” the interviewer turns towards Jack, whose blue eyes twinkle with mischief, “what’s next for the band—sorry, the pack? Any exciting projects coming up?”
“Exciting doesn’t even begin to cover it,” he says, his voice laced with infectious verve. “We’re blending our sounds, meshing our styles. We’ve got new tracks lined up. Now, we’re one band, one sound, and believe me, the world isn’t ready for what we’re about to bring. Our new name is The Hart’s Edge.”
“New music, huh?” The interviewer leans in, obviously hooked by Jack’s enthusiasm. “Can you give us a sneak peek of what to expect?”
Jack’s lips curl into a grin that promises trouble, the good kind. “The surprise song we performed for at the festival in Miami is one of them, but will be singing it as well.”
My eyes dance across the room, landing on each of my alphas. Chase winks at me, his amber eyes glinting with mischief; Aiden’s gentle smile is a silent vow of support; Dax ignores the interviewer but is there for me; and Jack controls the interview, ensuring it goes well.
There’s a warm glow inside me, a flame fueled by our shared bond, and the love that has become as vital to me as the air I breathe.
“I have to ask about the drama surrounding The Edge’s old lead singer, May, and your ex-manager, Trevor. There is a warrant out for their arrest,” Tory says.
My alphas are tense, and the room is full of alpha pheromones they’re trying to reign in. I sigh and leave this question to Jack.
“May wanted to be and take her spot. Trevor was willing to help make that happen. They attacked and tried to take her out of the picture. The police are searching for them, and we have confidence they’ll be found soon.”
“Alright,” the interviewer says, voice tinged with the same warmth we’ve been wrapped in since she walked through the door. “One last question for you, .” She gazes at me with genuine curiosity, and I straighten up, feeling the full weight of the moment. “What do you want the legacy of The Hart’s Edge to be? What’s the dream?”
I pause, letting the question wash over me. This isn’t just about me or the music—it’s about us, what we’ve built together. My heart thrums, a beat that syncs perfectly with the pulse of our pack. “The dream,” I start, my voice steady yet vibrant with passion, “is to leave a mark that resonates beyond the charts and the roar of the crowds. We want to create a space where everyone feels like they belong, where the music connects us all, regardless of status—alpha, beta, omega—doesn’t matter.”
“Bold and beautiful,” the interviewer muses, her eyes reflecting the admiration I feel in every fiber of my being. “Thank you, , Jack, Chase, Dax, and Aiden, for this insightful glimpse into your world.”
“Thank you for listening,” I reply, my smile as bright as stage lights.
As the interview draws to a close, the anticipation in the room is almost tangible, like a charged chord waiting to be struck. Our story, our future—it’s all laid out, ready to unfold. And with these alphas by my side, I’m ready to face whatever melody life plays next.
The moment the door clicks shut, the atmosphere in the room becomes lighter, almost fizzy, with the effervescence of a job well done. I’m on my feet, stretching out the kinks from sitting too long, when the smiles break across the room like the first rays of dawn after an endless night.
“Thanks for sharing our madness with such grace, ,” Chase says, his grin wicked.
Aiden’s nod is quiet but speaks volumes, his usual reserve melting away in the warmth of our collective triumph.
Dax grunts his agreement.
And then there’s Jack, his blue eyes twinkling as he sidles up to me. He leans in, close enough that I can feel the heat radiating from him despite the cool air of the hotel suite.
The buzz from the interview still hums in my veins as we sprawl across the hotel room, a tangle of limbs and contented sighs. The plush bed cushions our backs; it’s a luxury just to lay here, the five of us, basking in the shared glow of vulnerability turned into strength.
Aiden’s arm is a comforting, grounding, and protective weight around my shoulders. He doesn’t need words; his presence speaks volumes. I lean into his side, feeling the steady beat of his heart.
“Face it, , you’re a natural.” Chase’s voice comes from my other side, an edge of pride lacing his usual playful tone. “You’ve got this thing where you just draw people in. Like moths to a flame.”
I can’t help but giggle, rolling my eyes even though they all know I’m pleased. “Must be my sparkling personality,” I jest, turning my head to stick out my tongue at him.
“Or those bright green eyes,” Aiden adds quietly, and I feel a blush creeping up my cheeks. Trust Aiden to notice the little things, to say just enough to make my heart flutter without making a big deal about it.
“Enough about me,” I deflect, sitting up to look at each of them in turn. “We killed it today. As a pack. That’s what matters.”
Jack grins, standing effortlessly and pulling me in for a quick, fierce hug. “I’m proud of you.”
I’m proud of all of us.