Starting From the Top (Starting from 5)

Like now.

“Oh!” Fiona flashed a brilliant grin, showing off a perfect set of white teeth. “Gosh, that’s great.”

“Huh?”

“Boyfriends. It makes my heart happy,” she sighed, twirling toward the door with a cheery wave to the guys.

Boyfriend?

Tegan and Ky smiled politely, Charlie complimented her bag and her shoes as he waved good-bye, and Justin took a moment to tell her Parker was awesome before getting distracted by whatever nonsense was on the laptop. I should have left well enough alone. I thought I was being courteous, but truthfully, I was curious.

I hooked my thumb toward the shenanigans in the studio, then crossed my arms. “He’s not my—”

“No need for that. I’m very open-minded.” Fiona swept her hair over her shoulders and pulled out her phone. “I’m really glad I stopped by. Like I said, I’ve been worried about Parker, but this is working. And it’s so good for him to be around artists and diversity. The kids have been talking about you quite a bit, and I told Sean I needed to meet you for myself. Thank you for being so kind, Johnny. I’m truly grateful.”

Kind? Grateful?

She squeezed my hand, pivoted on her high heels, and sashayed down the hall. Fuck.

I turned toward the door, immediately bumping into Charlie and Clay, who were deep in conversation. I grabbed Clay’s elbow before he passed me.

“Hang on. What’s with the photo? I thought we agreed that wouldn’t see the light of day,” I hissed.

Clay raised his arms in surrender. “Chill. It won’t. I wanted to give an example of some of the more artistic ways we can represent the band.”

Charlie nodded enthusiastically. “I was thinking it would be cool to do an album cover of tattoos from each band member. Clay told me he had a great example and I love it! It would be a beautiful book cover too and the merch would be incredible. T-shirts, hoodies, tote bags. I need to look into trademarking your—”

“Yeah, yeah…I don’t care about that stuff. Clay and I aren’t boyfriends. Do not build one of your mysteries around that pic. I mean it,” I scowled.

Charlie lifted a brow. “I would never.”

“You definitely would. Please don’t.” I rounded on Clay. “That goes for you too.”

“You have my word, Johnny. And Clay’s too, I’m sure.” Charlie shot a fierce glance at Clay, who nodded obediently.

“No worries, man. You’re obviously seeing someone. I don’t interfere in relationships. Not worth the hassle.” Clay tucked his laptop under his arm and inclined his head. “Shall we, Char?”

Charlie gave me a shrewd once-over, then glanced toward the studio. And I could practically see the lightbulb go on. Great. Now Charlie knew too. Which meant Ky would know and Justin and…whatever. I trusted my bandmates and I trusted Charlie. They’d keep quiet. But that didn’t mean they wouldn’t wonder if I’d lost my marbles.

I let out a deep sigh as I pushed the door open—and froze at the sight of Parker in the midst of a jam session with Zero.

Tegan on drums, Ky on bass, and Justin playing one of Zero’s easier tunes on rhythm guitar next to a very happy Parker on the sofa. My heart swelled with pride and gratitude. Damn, these were cool people.

I grabbed my electric guitar and joined in with a flourish, pacing the floor like it was a stage and striking rock god poses to make everyone laugh. Justin jumped up to get in on the action. My buddy was a serious ham and a natural performer. He belted out lyrics and howled like a banshee as he motioned Parker forward.

“Ladies and gentlemen, give a warm welcome to Parker, a madman on the gee-tar,” Justin drawled. “Get over here, man. Don’t leave me hangin.’ What’s your special sauce song?”

Parker almost tripped over an amp cord. He chuckled nervously, casting his gaze from me to Justin. “It’s um…”

“Don’t tell us. Show us,” Justin urged.

Parker glanced down at the strings and hung his head for so long, I was sure we’d lost him. I was about to take over, but Tegan got there first.

“Look at it this way,” he said, tapping the snare drum in a one-two beat. “You cannot possibly be worse than Justin, and he’s been playing since before you were born.”

“You’re toast, T,” Justin growled.

We all busted up laughing…even Parker. Then he beamed at me and strummed the first few notes of “Love Me Do.”

Zero gave him the stage. We played background, letting his guitar prowess take center stage and I had to admit, he wasn’t bad. His fingers were nimble on the strings and he didn’t stumble over the chords. I was genuinely impressed. He accepted post-performance high fives and praise from the guys, and he didn’t shy away from my impromptu hug.

For the first time in my life, I felt a sense of pride that came from being invested in someone else’s growth and accomplishment. Sure, I’d taught other kids guitar, but I didn’t know them as well as I’d come to know Parker. The teacher in me was proud he’d learned that practice actually paid off, but there was more to it. I knew how hard he struggled and how much it meant to him to prove himself…especially in front of so-called experts.