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

Oli

DIRTY BETA GOSSIP COLUMN

OLI HART’S OFF-KEY PERFORMANCE STRIKES A SOUR NOTE

April 9th

S alt Lake City and Seattle go by without a hitch. The crowds continue to love The Edge, and the more times we perform, the better the show goes. I think my fans are starting to listen to The Edge’s music more before the shows because now they’re singing along.

Time with the guys has been easy, except for Dax and his grumpy attitude.

The hum of the tour bus mingles with the murmur of conversation as we make our way to Vancouver.

“I want donuts,” Chase says without looking up from his phone.

I laugh at how random that was. We are just sitting around on the bus, passing time on our phones.

I’m surrounded by my two new stuffed toys that appeared after our first night in each city. I just know they’re from Jack, but I haven’t said anything yet.

“You’re watching those damn donut-making videos again. Aren’t you?” Dax asks.

My phone buzzes with a new message from Riley.

“, you need to see this article. Brace yourself.” Her words are stark against the screen, and I can almost hear her voice, edged with concern.

“They’re enticing, and I can’t look away!” Chase grumbles.

Ignoring the guys around me, I click open the link to see an article on a popular gossip site.

The headline makes my stomach clench: OLI HART’S OFF-KEY PERFORMANCE STRIKES A SOUR NOTE.

My heart sinks, but I’m hooked. The article is by Alex Moore, a journalist I’ve never seen write about me before. I skim the words and realize she interviewed May, The Edge’s old lead singer.

“, do you want donuts? You’re an omega. Don’t omegas always want something sweet?” Chase practically begs.

I hum noncommittally, barely hearing him.

She paints last night’s performance as a tragedy of epic proportions. They rip into my voice and claim I am ruining The Edge’s music.

“You’re only asking ve because you know the crew would be willing to stop for her and not you,” Aiden grumbles.

May doesn’t stop there. She’s out for blood, and not just mine. “The band, once notorious for their electrifying stage presence, now seems to be relying on gimmicks and their omega lead’s flailing charisma to keep the crowds coming.”

“, what are you looking at?” Aiden asks.

I swallow the bitter taste of her words, feeling the weight of my bandmates’ gazes heavy on me. They know something’s up.

“Your scent has soured. Tell us what’s wrong so we can fix it,” Jack demands, trying to look over my shoulder.

“Nothing,” I mutter, locking my phone before any of them can catch a glimpse of May’s brutal takedown. This isn’t how I wanted to spend the day.

“Something’s definitely off,” Aiden says, his eyes narrowing as he studies me.

“Spill it, ,” Chase insists, leaning forward in his seat, the concern etched into the lines of his face. “You’ve been staring at your phone like it’s a grenade about to go off.”

I sigh, knowing full well the bombshell I’m about to drop. “It’s an article,” I admit reluctantly, unlocking my phone again.

If I don’t show it now, they’ll just see it later.

“Let’s see it then,” Dax grumbles from the back, his voice carrying that typical edge of defiance.

I hand over my phone and watch as their faces transform with every line they read. Jack’s jaw clenches, a muscle ticking in his cheek, while Chase’s hands ball into fists, knuckles whitening. Aiden’s brows draw together so tightly I’m half-concerned they’ll fuse into one.

“May really outdid herself this time,” Jack spits out, tossing the phone onto the cushion next to him as if it’s tainted. “She’s always had it out for us, but this is low—even for her.”

“And she teamed up with Alex Moore,” Dax points out.

“Does the journalist matter?” I ask.

Jack looks up at me. “She’s always been after us for some reason and loved May. Every article and review she wrote was about May’s talent and tore us apart.”

“He’s right. Alex Moore has become our own personal thorn in the side—a reporter with a vendetta. She’s notorious for her intrusive interviews, where she prods and pokes with questions designed to unravel us, and her articles are always tinged with bias, painting us as the poster children for all that’s wrong with the rock scene,” Aiden explains.

“Remember when she cornered us after the show in L.A.? Asked all those invasive questions about our personal lives?” Chase growls, frustration simmering in his tone.

“Or how about the hit piece she did last year? Claiming we were nothing but sellouts riding on nostalgia?” Aiden adds, shaking his head in disgust.

“Every band has its critics, but she’s made it her mission to take us down,” Dax interjects, surprisingly vocal given his usual silence. “And now she’s dragging into it.”

Aiden, Jack, and Chase turn to me.

“We are sorry, . It’s not fair that you’re being insulted, too,” Jack says.

The anger on the tour bus is a living thing, thrumming through the air

“So, this reporter hates you four, but why does May?” I ask.

Jack’s laugh is hollow. “She doesn’t hate us, . She hates the success we are having without her, and thanks to you.”

“Exactly,” Aiden chimes in, his quiet voice surprisingly fierce. “She’s bitter and twisted and can’t stand that we’re not her puppets anymore.”

It’s clear from their faces that this goes deeper than bad press.

“Puppets? What does that mean?” I ask.

“That’s not your business,” Dax states flatly, his hands clenched into fists.

I look away, uncomfortable.

“Shut the fuck up, Dax!” Jack’s exasperation is evident.

“She was just torn apart in the article; the least we can do is explain why.” Chase glares at Dax.

“ is a part of us now,” Aiden says simply, meeting my eyes with a steadiness that belies his usual shyness.

Every day together, he gets less shy.

Dax’s scowl deepens, and he looks like he’s about to argue, but something in the collective stance of the group must sway him. He sighs, a heavy, defeated sound, and nods once. “Fine.”

“The four of us have been playing together since we were sixteen, but we never clicked with a lead singer,” Jack starts, his voice holding the strain of past frustrations.

“We sang our music together, alternating, and a label still picked us up, but we were so excited we didn’t realize it came with a stipulation,” Aiden says.

Chase snorts, running a hand through his hair. “The label forced May on us as our lead singer, and she was a bitch from the start. She thought she was so much better than us, and since she was the lead singer, she represented the whole band in public.”

“She always made it seem like she was doing us a favor and that we wouldn’t have a band without her. May spread lies and poisoned the pack. We were starting to lose our bond,” Jack admits.

Dax slams his hand down on the table. “That’s enough.”

The three of them give Dax a weary look.

“May is evil. End of story.” Dax glares at me, daring me to ask more.

I avoid any questions about their pack bond. That’s clearly a touchy subject, and they’ve told me enough today.

“So, I wasn’t the first lead singer that’s been forced on the four of you. That’s why you were so resistant when we met. You didn’t want another May,” I guess .

Dax keeps glaring at me, but the other three nod.

“I’m sorry the label keeps taking choices away from the four of you. After this tour, I can help you advocate for what you want. I have some sway in the label, and I will use that to help you,” I tell them honestly.

My childhood friend, Anders, rose up in the label shortly after me, and I know he would help.

I might enjoy performing with them, but they have their own dreams, and I want them to come true.

Chase grabs my hand and kisses the back of it. “That’s why you’re different. You’ve never put us down, only advocated for more of our success.”

“Thanks, Chase.” I manage a smile, surprised by how much I mean it. Their honesty makes me feel closer to them. Connected.

“,” Aiden starts, his voice wrapping around me like a warm blanket, “we’re in this together, now more than ever.”

Jack nods, his dark eyes sincere. “Yeah, we’re not letting anyone mess with our omega. You got that?”

“Damn straight,” Chase adds, his arm finding its way around my shoulders, a silent vow of protection.

And then there’s Dax, silent Dax with his strong jaw set in determination. He doesn’t say anything.

“We will reach out to some connections we have in the press and have them write some positive articles to bury this one,” Jack says, pulling out his phone.

I put my hand over his phone, stopping him. “Don’t. We’ve already been getting great reviews. I don’t care what she thinks of my voice when it’s all bitter jealousy. After May’s scandal kicked her out of the band, no one will read that and think she’s in the right. ”

“You’re always so positive,” Chase says with a bright smile, which I copy.

I shrug. “It’s my preferred state of being.”

“You’re right, . We won’t let May bring us down. She’s out of the band and out of our lives. We can’t let her take up space in our minds anymore,” Aiden says.

I lean forward and squeeze his knee in agreement.

“Well then, where did we land on donuts?” Chase asks, rubbing his hands together.

“After dealing with that, we deserve them,” I say.

We make the whole brigade stop for donuts, and the first bite of a chocolate glaze makes it worth it.

I buy out the shop, and the whole crew gets a treat, too, making me happy.

When other people spread hate, I choose to spread joy.

May won’t take that from me or the guys anymore.