Starting From the Top (Starting from 5)

It was time to come clean and tell T about Sean and me.

“I know.”

“You know?”

I blinked in confusion at Tegan and paced to the opposite side of the studio, grateful I’d finally managed to catch him alone after a full day of practice. My window was small, though. Justin had gone to the restroom, Ky went to the kitchen to grab a few water bottles, and I expected Parker to arrive any minute for a lesson. We were officially done for the day, but Charlie had asked Zero to stick around for a bit to approve a photo montage Clay had put together for us. Supposedly this would give us an idea of how the spread would look stylistically.

Like I gave a fuck. I figured I’d nod a few times, then use my lesson with Parker to get out of a long-ass meeting to look at pictures of myself. I had just enough time to apologize to T for keeping secrets and brush it off with a joke as though one of the most incredible things in my life was of no importance.

But he already knew? How?

Tegan must have sensed my inner turmoil. He patted my shoulder and aimed a lopsided smirk at me. “For starters, Sean talks about you all the time.”

“He does?”

“Yep. He comes by the house to work out in our home gym a couple of times a week.”

“And he told you that we…”

Tegan made a lewd finger-in-hole gesture and snickered like a teenager. “No, he didn’t tell me in so many words, but every conversation comes back to you. ‘Johnny taught Parker a new song. I think it’s a Beatles song, but I can’t be sure. Johnny’s incredibly talented. Did you know he’s basically self-taught?’ And on and on…”

“Oh. Well, that’s not much,” I replied with a shrug.

“It’s not what he says. It’s the way he looks when he talks about you. Dec caught on before I did. He thinks it’s sweet too,” he teased.

I huffed. “It’s not sweet, and it’s not a big deal.”

“Good attitude. Sean’s a good man, but he’s not really available. Not for the long haul.”

“Neither am I,” I declared fervently.

“Then have fun.” Tegan held his hand up for a high five.

I smacked his palm and pasted a phony smile on my face before reaching for my electric guitar, hooking the strap over my neck.

Yep, I was irked. Made no sense. Tegan wasn’t telling me anything I didn’t know. Sean was temporary.

It took me a moment to realize that I didn’t resent the gentle reminder not to get overly invested. I resented knowing that I didn’t stand a chance anyway. It was the same crappy feeling I remembered well as a kid. It didn’t matter how hard I tried; certain things could never be mine. Back then, it was a stable family and a sober parent who actually gave a fuck. Now it was…well, the grown-up variation along the same theme.

I leaned into my instrument as my fingers tripped over the strings. I blended notes and teased a few chords, pulling a new melody out of thin air like a sorcerer conjuring a spell to scare away old ghosts. I turned away to avoid Tegan’s curious sideways glance just as the door swung open and a whole lot of crazy stormed in at once.

Justin and Ky shuffled ahead of the crowd, wearing matching “oh, wow” expressions. They were followed closely by an animated Charlie steering Clay into the studio. The noise level instantly went through the roof. Everyone was talking at once. Charlie couldn’t wait to see the spread, Clay couldn’t wait to show us a few pics, and Justin couldn’t wait to go home. He razzed them to get the ball rolling, then let out a theatrical groan when Clay informed him there were only three hundred shots to go through.

“How is that possible? Your photographer has only been here a couple of times. Did he really take that many pictures?” Justin groused.

“No, some of these are from concert footage and the odd press conference or…party,” Clay replied, aiming a wink in my direction before waving us to gather at the long table on the side of the room.

“Why are we doing this here?” Tegan complained.

“It will only take a minute or two. I need to whisk Clay to my office to work on some scheduling logistics. This is a preliminary peek. I just wanted to give you a feel for how the final product will look,” Charlie cajoled as Clay opened his laptop. “Come see.”

I moved forward but stopped in my tracks when I spotted Bianca in the doorway with Parker and an elegant woman dressed in business attire.

I pushed my guitar behind my back and stepped forward. “Hey, Parker.”

He beamed, shifting his guitar case from his right hand to his left to give me a fist bump. “Hi.”