Knot My Band, Part One (Knot My Band #1)

Chase

ALPHA TEA GOSSIP COLUMN

AFTER YEARS OF BAD PRESS FOR THE EDGE, IS MAY’S ARREST THE END OF THIS BAND?

March 18th

L eaning against the cool concrete wall outside the practice room, I tap a rhythm with my fingers. Trevor pulled Jack, Dax, Aiden, and me out in the hallway, and I’m pretty sure we are about to get our asses chewed out.

“Enough!” The sharp bark of Trevor’s voice slices through the hall. His frown is etched deep. “This isn’t a damn game,” he snaps, jabbing a finger at each one of us. “You need to get your heads straight and start acting like professionals.”

He’s a beta, but he’s been dealing with artists for years, and he’s got a backbone even I respect.

I can tell by the set of his jaw and the fire in his eyes that Trevor’s about at the end of his rope.

“Oli’s not just some replacement,” he continues, his tone sharpening with every word. “She’s the fresh start you’ve been handed on a silver platter. And if you blow this because you’re too busy playing alpha male games, you’ll have no one to blame but yourselves. ”

There’s a collective shift, a tension that coils tightly in the air as the weight of his words sinks in.

“So you better go in and put your best effort into making Oli want to work with you. She can say no, you can’t.” The threat is clear.

The way we’ve treated Oli since we got here was unfair, and she was only nice to us. We didn’t deserve her kindness, and she didn’t deserve our scorn. Plus, the moment I saw her, I wanted to pull her into my arms and kiss her puffy lips. That won’t happen if I keep being a dick. She’s the sexiest woman I’ve ever met.

“Alright, you’re right,” I say, pushing off the wall and clapping a hand on Trevor’s shoulder, a half-grin tugging at my lips. “Let’s go make some music. Just give us a moment.”

Trevor nods and then heads inside the room, stopping at the door. “Since you don’t seem to know anything about her, you should also know she’s an omega.”

After that bomb, he turns and leaves the four of us alone.

Dax slams his fist on the wall. “This is bullshit!” he growls, his voice a deep rumble. His dark brown hair falls over his forehead in a way that would be considered broodingly handsome on anyone else, but right now, it just underscores his grumpy aura.

“Working with another woman? An omega! That’s the ‘brilliant’ plan?” Dax is practically snarling, his intense hazel eyes narrowing into slits as he stands there, towering over us all with his solid frame. “We don’t need some delicate flower swooning over mic stands. We need a singer who can handle our music and not turn it into some bubble gum pop!”

I watch him, trying to gauge whether he’s more pissed about the tour or the omega situation. Knowing Dax, it’s a heady mix of both, seasoned with his usual stubbornness.

“We all know she’s not like that. She’s more famous than us and it’s time we treat her with the respect she deserves,” I say firmly.

“ is right. We don’t have to be happy about this, but let’s not take it out on the omega,” Jack adds.

Aiden speaks up, “She seems really nice, and May is the one who got us to this point. We can only be mad at her and ourselves.”

“So, we treat Oli better and give this a shot?” Jack asks.

“Absolutely.”

“I’m not being nice to her,” Dax complains, but we all ignore him. We file into the practice room, the air charged with a new sense of purpose. It’s game time, and I’m ready to play.

I take a seat on the drum stool, fiddling with a loose thread on my jeans, the cool metal barely registering against my skin. My mind’s buzzing, static noise from the clash of guilt gnawing at my gut.

“, you with us, man?” Jack’s voice cuts through the fog in my head, and I nod, even though my thoughts are trailing back to when we met Oli. Her determined eyes, that firecracker energy, how we snuffed it without a second thought.

“Listen up,” Trevor’s voice slices through the room, sharp as a blade. The beta stands there, arms crossed, his stern expression etched into the lines of his face like he’s carved out of stone. “May’s screw-up put you in hot water, but this—Oli—it’s your shot at redemption. And if you think I’ll let any of you jeopardize this, you’re sorely mistaken.”

His gaze pins each of us in turn, a silent dare to defy him. I can feel his disapproval, a tangible thing, pressing down like the heat before a storm. It makes me want to act out, but I push it aside.

“Understood, Trevor,” I say, finally. Somehow, the words feel like a pledge, one I intend to keep. Because deep down, where pride doesn’t cloud judgment, I know he’s right. Oli deserves better from us, from me. And damn it, I’m going to give it to her.

I pull out my drumsticks and prepare to start our song off.

“Hey, Oli,” I call out, the words slipping into the charged silence. “Can’t wait to hear your beautiful voice on this song.”

She turns, bright green eyes wide with surprise that quickly melts into a warm smile. It’s like a hit of serotonin, and I can’t help but return the gesture with one of my own.

“Thanks, ,” she says, and damn if her voice doesn’t sound like music itself. “I hope I can live up to your expectations.”

“Count on it,” I reply, feeling the truth of it down to my bones.

The sticks in my hands are steady, a thrumming pulse echoing through the studio as I kickstart the beat. Oli’s voice surges forward, raw and potent, filling every crevice of the room with vibrant energy. Jack’s guitar weaves around her melody, Dax’s bass throbs like a second heartbeat, and Aiden’s fingers dance across the keyboard.

“Damn,” I mutter under my breath, too low for the mics to catch. The song is ours, but she makes it sound brand new, as if it’s been waiting for her to breathe life into it all along. This isn’t just some rehearsed piece; it’s alive, it’s electric. Her version is better than May’s, and she’s just singing it for the first time.

When she looks back at me, her green eyes sparkling with challenge, she’s not just an omega to be coddled—she’s a firecracker, setting the stage ablaze.

I can’t help the grin splitting my face as I roll with the rhythm, sweat beading on my brow. She’s in her element, commanding the space with the confidence of someone who was born to stand behind that mic. And hell, if she doesn’t do our song justice.

My admiration for her grows with each passing verse. We’ve played this song a hundred times before, but listening to Oli’s interpretation, her voice melding seamlessly with the instruments, it’s as if I’m hearing it for the first time. Her dedication shows, not just in her flawless performance but in the small nuances she brings to the table, the ones that tell me she’s done her homework on us, on our music.

And we barely know anything about hers, which makes me feel like an ass.

Oli’s at the mic, her head bobbing to the rhythm we’ve created together, and something about the way she owns that stage space stirs a heat inside me I wasn’t prepared to feel. The room is charged with electricity, and each note she hits sends a jolt straight through me.

The last chord hangs in the air, a perfect, lingering moment of harmony that none of us rush to break. I lower my sticks slowly, my chest heaving with more than just the exertion of playing.

“That was excellent. Let’s call it a night and pick it back up tomorrow,” Trevor commands.

“Who knew you had this in you, Hart?” I toss out, the playful banter effortless for me. It’s clear now—that same spark that ignites her presence onstage lights her up in practice, too.

“Wouldn’t want to outshine you too much on your own track,” she shoots back .

Oli quickly grabs her stuff, clearly wanting to leave.

She steps closer, and the light catches the pink waves of her hair, casting a halo around her that’s downright sinful. Her eyes lock onto mine, and it’s like she’s peering into parts of me I keep locked up tight. The confidence oozing from her pores is intoxicating; it’s not just her voice that commands attention—it’s her whole damn being.

“Keep your eyes up here, Sullivan,” she teases, and my gaze snaps back to her face. I hadn’t even realized it had drifted down to the curve of her hips swaying ever so slightly.

“Can’t help it,” I say, my voice coming out rougher than I intended. “You make it difficult to focus.”

She looks at all four of us. “Goodnight.”

Trevor follows her out and leaves us alone.

“That was great,” I say, turning to look at the others.

“We actually melded together incredibly,” Aiden adds with a smile.

“Whatever, at least she won’t embarrass us,” Dax adds with a grunt.

No, she won’t. Now, we just need to make sure we don’t embarrass her.