Starting from Zero (Starting from 1)

I set my burger on the battered coffee table, then twisted to give Tegan a sideways “What the fuck?” look. “Exclusive entourage?”

“You know…Instagram influencers, wannabee actors, and models. Some of them are idiots, but there are a few super-brainy types too. Sean says they’re good for business. They post the club on social media in exchange for complimentary drinks and free entry. Every time Sean places a special order at the bar, it’s usually for one of Charlie’s posse. He loves Charlie.”

“Oh.” As in “Oh, fuck.”

“I don’t really get the appeal, but people eat that crap up,” Tegan huffed. “They want to see pictures of boys kissing boys and video clips of them dirty dancing with their buddies. It’s all staged. They get paid to wear designer jeans and hang out with a bunch of guys they barely know. Then they post their photos on Instagram and everyone goes crazy over them. Including Sean.”

“So he’s a big social media guy and he helps club owners like Sean by hyping his brand online?”

“Nice way to make a living, huh?” Tegan leaned back on the sofa and rested his hands behind his head before continuing, “We should ask Charlie to help us. You know, we gotta up our social media game too. We have to hash out some details and put a plan into action. We’ve got some good new material. Email him. You have his contact info, right?”

“Uh, yeah, but we don’t know it’s the same Charlie for sure.”

Tegan sat up and fixed me with a shrewd once-over. “What did you do?”

“What makes you think I did anything?”

“ ’Cause you’re acting shifty. The way you do when you’ve fucked something up,” he deadpanned.

“Who me?”

“Uh huh. You know, his dad’s a big-time producer. He—” Tegan bolted upright and pointed at my laptop. “Holy fuck. His dad is Sebastian Rourke. He does those spy thrillers. So that’s why he was at Gray Robertson’s house. That’s awesome! If he was at the show at Carmine’s and then contacted you through Charlie, he’s gotta be interested. Maybe he wanted Charlie to feel you out before he offered assistance.”

“Nah, I don’t think so,” I bluffed.

“It fits. They saw you play, they liked you. You disappeared after your set like an asshole, but they tracked you down and asked Charlie to help. I know you’re suspicious, but it makes sense now. Call him back. This could be great for JTJ!”

“Our name is not JTJ,” I huffed. “We need to get away from the Gypsy Coma drama and focus on our own music with a new name, a new direction. Oh, yeah. And we need to line up some new shows.”

“I bet Charlie can help us.”

I puffed my cheeks out and slowly let out a rush of air followed by a weak chuckle. “I told him to fuck off.”

“Then un-tell him to fuck off. Apologize. Tell him you were surprised or that you weren’t feeling well or that your goldfish fucking died. He’s our ticket to real exposure. To guys like Gray. To—”

“I told him to fuck off too.”

Tegan deflated like a sad balloon. He slumped forward and braced his forearms on his knees. “Of course you did.”

As far as Tegan knew, the email-slash-job offer was an odd stroke of luck. He didn’t know about my evening with Gray, and I wanted to keep it that way. By mutual unspoken agreement, we didn’t talk about our sex lives. I knew he was with Sean. He knew I wasn’t exactly a monk.

We were mostly back to normal, and neither of us wanted to dredge up something we couldn’t fix overnight. Our short-term side trip into “more than friends” territory was a good example of what happened when I let my brain go on vacation and put my dick in charge of major decision-making. I was grateful we’d emerged with our friendship intact.

I set my laptop on the sofa cushion and paced the short distance to the big-screen TV. “We don’t need Charlie or anyone else.”

“We can’t do it all on our own, Jus. We’re going to have to ask for help once in a while, and we’re going to have to trust that not everyone is like Dec or Xena. It’s the only way to get ahead in this business. We gotta stop bracing ourselves for the next blow and start making our mark. It’s time to move forward and start to—”

“Zero,” I blurted.

“Huh?”

“Our name! Zero. Starting over. Like a new beginning.”

Tegan scratched his jaw thoughtfully. “Zero to Hero? Zero to Sixty?”

I rolled my eyes. “No, asshole. Just Zero.”

Tegan smacked my hand and then held it briefly. “I like it.”

“It’s fucking perfect!” I nodded like a puppet on a string. “This is it. Let’s call Johnny. The three of us have to be sure we’re on the same page. You call Ky and—”