Unwritten (Woodlands 5)

“‘I Wasn’t Ready,’” Adam says. “It’s a new song Davis and I have been working on during the tour. It’s been a favorite of mine since we put the lyrics to music, but this is the first time we’ll be playing it for anyone outside of the band.”

“And who doesn’t like being the first.” The male host winks at the guys. “PRX listeners, you’re in for a real treat—get ready for the debut of ‘I Wasn’t Ready’ by FMK!”

Ian counts off the beat. “One and two and three and four and—”

Rudd starts first, laying down the bass line. Two measures and Adam joins in. Two more measures and Davis begins to sing. And then it’s full on harmony—beautiful and pure. Adam’s voice lower, more gravelly, providing the anchor for Davis’s falsetto.

The hosts are into it. The male host is mouthing the chorus after the second verse. Nicole licks her lips as if she’s imagining tasting one of the band members.

If this is how these jaded radio hosts are reacting, then the song is going to be a huge hit.

“Whew!” Nicole wipes fake sweat off her forehead. “Is it hot in here or what? I want you all to promise that you’ll remember us when you get big, because I can tell you right now, this is a hit!”

Her co-host leans into the mic. “If you haven’t bought your tickets for Sand Festival, start calling to win one of ten tickets to hear FMK and four other bands play tonight. We’ll be back after the break!”

The sound in my room goes dead as the feed from the studio is cut off while a commercial plays. I watch as everyone slaps each other on the back and Adam thanks the producer for having them. By the two thumbs-up the headphones-wearing producer gives, the telephone response must be positive.

Davis is the first one to come bursting through the door. “What’d you think?”

“You guys were great.”

“They’re getting so many calls!” he says excitedly. “Higher volume after our segment than they’ve had all morning.”

I offer a genuine smile. “I’m so happy for you.”

Davis lifts me up and swings me around. “This is it, Landry.”

“You deserve it,” I tell him.

He grins happily and sets me down. “Let’s get to the festival!”

“We gotta make the airport run,” Ian reminds him. Berry’s flying in.

Davis slaps him on the back. “Then let’s go to the airport, pick up the wifey, and get to the festival.”

&

nbsp; “Davis is excited,” Adam murmurs in my ear.

“What gave you that idea?” I say dryly.

* * *

The outdoor festival is a bigger, rowdier crowd than I’m used to. There’s no table in the back of the bar that I can barricade myself behind. It’s nothing but a sea of people. Even behind the stage, it’s a mass of humanity, moving frenetically from one end to the other while readying things for the next act.

“This crowd is insane tonight,” Berry yells in my ear. We have to yell. It’s the only way to communicate.

She has little Jack strapped to her chest with a huge pair of earmuffs around his head. He’s sleeping peacefully against her chest. I eye his ear protection with envy. I could use a pair of those.

“I’ve never been to a music festival,” I confess. “Is it always like this?”

“Not even the Summer Festival in Central City?” she asks in astonishment.

“No. I always meant to go.” But the local music scene bummed Davis out. I think he’d go and be resentful that he was in the audience and not onstage.

“Well, that’s nothing like this. You can bring a blanket and hear the person next to you talk without shouting.”

I give her a thumbs-up, because I’m tired of screaming our conversation. That and my attention keeps getting diverted to Adam. He’s got so many girls around him, and they’re so brazen, tucking their numbers into his front pocket, asking him to sign their tits and asses and tummies. And he has to pretend like he’s interested because I’ve insisted on keeping our relationship a secret.