Wild Collision (Us 4)

“Yeah,” I chime in, pushing away the sudden sickness in my stomach. “The singles we’ve released previously … none of those compare to what we’re doing here. I think we’ve really nailed our sound down and it’s perfect.”

“It’s going to resonate with people,” Cannon chimes in.

“Can you pass me those chips?” Fox asks, pointing at the bag of BBQ ones in front of me. I toss them to him. Typical Fox, only thinking about food.

“I think everything should be a green light to release your first single after the first of the year with a second around March. We should have things wrapped up for a summer album release.”

The guys all smile, I try as well, but it feels too good to be true in a way.

We’ve been working for years to get here and now that it’s all within grasp I feel sure I must be dreaming. To finally have a full album out there, to be able to actually tour, even if it’s only as an opening act ... it’s crazy. We’ve spent so long recording when we had the money to pay for it, performing at festivals for free, doing whatever we could to get our name out there.

I know we’re damn lucky people started taking notice of us, which led to Hayes taking notice. Not everyone gets an opportunity like this.

All four of us have had our trials in getting to this point.

We’ve put our blood, sweat, and tears into our album, our music.

“Smile, Hollis.” Hayes reaches over and claps me on the shoulder. “Dreams do come true, you know?”

Yeah, but at what price?

* * *

Mia slides into the booth across from me at Waffle House. We’ve been here a few times, enough the staff recognizes us—okay, so maybe we’ve been here more than a few times, but if I had my choice we’d come here once a day. I wouldn’t be opposed to every meal being spent here in this booth by the window with her.

“What can I

get y’all today?” our usual waitress, Marge, asks. She’s older, probably in her fifties or sixties, with graying hair and plump around the middle. “The usual?”

“Yep,” we say simultaneously, not even looking at a menu.

She leaves to go get our drinks and call out our order.

“School is kicking my butt,” Mia says, resting her chin in her hand. “I’m beyond ready for winter break. I fully plan on stocking up on snacks and hibernating.”

I crack a smile. “Can I get in on the hibernating?”

“Only if you bring your own blankets,” she quips.

Marge sets down our drinks. “Thanks,” I tell her.

“Yes, thank you,” Mia says, picking up her straw and ripping the paper off.

“Do you want to do anything for your birthday?” I ask her.

“My family always throws a party. It usually turns into a big deal with my uncles, aunts, and cousins coming. You guys will be welcome to come too. Kira does.”

I press my lips together. “Are you going to tell your dad before your birthday?”

“Yes,” she sighs, giving me a look like I should give her some credit. “I know I need to tell him about us and there’s no way I’m having a family gathering for my birthday with him not knowing. I won’t hide you from him anymore.”

“Good,” I say.

I’m still scared for him to know—fearing the worst, but I also know the best thing is for us to be upfront and let him know. He’s her dad, he deserves to know and not be kept in the dark.

“Have you thought about what you want to do when you go back to L.A.?” she asks, barely meeting my eyes. “You’re not going to be here forever.”

“I know it won’t be easy,” I begin, “but I figure we can do the long distance thing, and I’ll fly here as much as I can. You can visit me whenever you want, I know you have school—but when you have breaks or something.”