Prologue
CRUE
I lean against the wall in the rehearsal studio, pretending I'm not doing a damn thing even though I'm carefully watching the other members of the band. It's an old habit. Even after ten years apart, I guess I still haven't been able to shake the damn thing.
This time, I'm not checking to make sure everyone is in the right headspace for a show.
I'm simply trying to figure out if anyone wants to be here at all.
It's been a long fucking time since we were on a stage together.
But time doesn't heal all wounds, and when everyone from here to China screams your name, you end up with a lot of those.
Jax moves to the leather couch, picking up his guitar. I grunt, not sure where the hell I stand with him. We've always been oil and water, sliding against one another but never mixing.
Asher stares out the window, lost in his own world. He's always been our moral compass, but he's been off lately. I'm not sure what's up with him.
Mason drums his fingers against the tabletop, counting out some beat only he knows. He can't dance to save his life, but I'm not mad about it. The man writes the best hooks in the business. He has that look to him now, as if he's working on something in his head.
Jameson scrolls through his phone. God only knows what he's looking at. Set lists? Ways to fake his death and escape to Bora Bora? I don't know. He's hard to pin down.
It's obvious none of them want to be here anymore than I do, though.
Who can blame them? The label didn't exactly give us much choice.
It was either come back for this tour and album or lose the money they owe us.
I don't particularly want to spend the next ten years tied up in court, fighting for what's rightfully ours just because we signed a shit deal when we were too young to know better.
I don't need the money, but I'm not going to let the label fuck us over again, either. Which means it's up to me to get their heads in the game and get them excited for the tour none of us want to be on. But if freedom lies on the other side, well, that doesn't suck.
I clear my throat to get their attention.
Four sets of eyes turn in my direction.
"Alright, ladies, gather round," I say. "We all know why we're here. One last album, one final tour. Then we're free. We've got a lot to cover before we hit the road again."
Jax immediately frowns. "Who put you in charge, Crue? Last I checked, this wasn't a dictatorship."
I roll my eyes. Of course he's the one arguing over who leads this shitshow. As if it fucking matters who leads it so long as we get the shit done and over with.
"Fine," I sigh to appease him, shaking my head. "We'll take a vote. All in favor of me leading this meeting say 'aye'."
"Aye." Asher raises his hand to count his vote.
"Aye. Let's just get this over with."
"Aye."
"Excellent. Then, by the power vested in me by the band Soul Obsession, I now call this meeting to order."
"Do you need a gavel there, Judge Crue?" Jax asks sarcastically.
I ignore him. He's been a dick for as long as I've known him. It's part of his charm. He hides a lot behind it.
"Alright, first order of business, the setlist. Management wants us to focus mostly on our old hits, with a couple of new songs sprinkled in. I think we should open with Girlfriend since that always got the crowds pumped up," I say.
"Agreed. Can I sit out for that one this time?" Mason asks, his British accent obvious. "I'm really not looking forward to all those synchronized group dances we used to do. Dancing was not in my original job description as the drummer, you know."
"What exactly was in your original job description, Mase? Sit there and look brooding while hitting stuff with sticks?" Jax asks, giving Mason shit now.
"That's the dream." Mason grins, shooting Jax a wink.
"A proctologist appointment sounds more appealing to me than synchronized dancing," Asher mutters.
"Come on, guys. It wasn't all bad. We used to have fun together.
Don't you remember how great it felt to hear the crowd roar?
" I ask, trying to get them in the right headspace.
The tour is going to crash and fucking burn if every single one of us doesn't want to be there. "Doesn't that count for something?"
"Oh yeah. Nothing fills the soul quite like having underwear thrown at you every night by screaming teenagers and running from paparazzi during the day," Jax mutters.
"It sounds like hell." Asher grimaces, his face pale. "Please remind me why we’re doing this to ourselves again?"
"Alright, alright. I'll admit the fans could be.
..intense. But the point is, we had some crazy times together back in the day.
It wasn't all bad," I say, still trying to turn the ship around.
I feel like a goddamn fraud because they're right.
Our lives were a disaster back then. We had no privacy, no rest, and very little say in anything.
It was a helluva way to live, and we did it for years.
"Says you!" Jax growls, getting heated. "You weren't the one getting blasted by the press for every late night out or questionable girlfriend. "'Soul Obsession's Bad Boy Caught in New Scandal'. They ate that shit up."
"Only because you kept feeding it to them!" I remind him. "If you didn't sneak out to a party or hook up with a new girl every night, they'd have had nothing to write about. Or maybe if you didn’t get stoned and tumble out of clubs?"
Jax's jaw clenches, and I know he's pissed.
He knows how much I hated being hounded by the tabloids back then.
It was my worst damn nightmare. When you've got a secret to keep, having every gossip in the world breathing down your damn neck is exhausting.
The last thing I wanted to do was give them another reason to chase me everywhere I went.
But he knows I'm right, too. We were all over the news all the fucking time, but he got the worst of it because he gave them so goddamn much material to work with. It was like he couldn't fucking help himself.
"I was nineteen, man! What was I supposed to be doing, knitting sweaters and baking cookies?" he snaps.
"Cookies sound good right now," Asher mutters.
"You do knit a mean scarf, Jax." Mason's lip twitches.
"Shut up," Jax sighs.
"Yeah, leave the guy alone. We were kids, we all did stupid shit. Isn't that why we're here? For the fat paychecks so we can finally get the record label off our backs?" Jameson cuts in.
"I’m ready to be done with all this shit," Asher says, earning a grunt from Jax.
That makes five of us. But…
"This reunion is about more than money. It's about giving the fans the closure they deserve.
We owe it to them—and ourselves—to do this right," I remind everyone.
As much as it sucks, I'm right. I don't want to spend the rest of my life regretting the way we left shit ten years ago, and I don't want them to regret it either.
Right now, every single one of us does…and for the exact same reason. We had no control over any of it.
"Just say you miss the limelight, man," Jax says, rolling his eyes.
"Maybe I do miss parts of it. Sue me for loving the music that made us famous in the first place. But don't pretend you all don't miss it too. The music brought us together. Through all the messy stuff, that was the one thing we always had."
"I miss some things more than others," Asher admits with a shrug.
"Crue is right," Jameson agrees. "The music was always there for us, even when things got tough. I know I complained about the fans but seeing their smiling faces in the crowd…there was no better feeling."
"How poetic, Jameson. Did you rehearse that, or are you just naturally this sentimental?" Mason asks, giving him hell.
"Naturally. Comes with the crooner territory."
"Can you guys focus?" I growl. "This is about more than closure. It's our shot at finally controlling our narrative. We're not those kids anymore. For once, we get to decide how we're remembered."
That's the important thing as far as I'm concerned. We get to introduce the world to the real Soul Obsession, the band they never got to meet back then. We get to decide how this ends for us. Not the label, not the tabloids, but the five of us. That's worth all the bullshit.
"Just so you know," Asher says, "it kills me to admit you're right."
"I’ll admit it. We did kick ass together," Jax mumbles, shocking the hell out of me. I figured we'd have to drag him kicking and screaming the whole way.
"So are we good? We gonna bring the fire one last time for our fans?" I ask.
"Let’s light this shit up!" Jameson grins.
I glance at the other guys and see them nodding their agreement, matching grins on their faces.
Fuck. We're actually going to give this a real shot.