Nobody Falls for the Opening Act (Break the Rules Book 2)

Chapter 6

Iscribble another word in the notebook I picked up at the last Botsford Plaza gift shop we passed through. Almost immediately, I scratch it out and start the line again before releasing a heavy sigh. This page has more scratches than scribbles at this point.

Cursing under my breath, I rip the page out and start anew.

Oh, Addison.

You’re so…

Fuck.

I sit back in my seat, taking a moment to glance around the tour bus. It’s midday. Missoula is long gone. We crossed the border into Wyoming already, but there’s still hours to go before we reach Denver, Colorado.

Criminal Records are taking advantage of the long commute, using the time to sit down together and kick around ideas for new songs. Their loud, constant discussions are only briefly paused now and then by Jonah or Knox playing a few bars of Strawberry Daiquiris — their next chart-topping hit once it sweeps the Battle of the Bands against The Electrics in October. I love it. I think it sounds amazing.

But to them, it’s horrible. Not good enough. Pure garbage.

This isn’t usually how they spend their “off” time on tour, but they need new material. And they need it now.

Not only that, it needs to be great.

I sit quietly near the front, knowing when to stay out of the way and let the geniuses do their thing.

Besides, I’m only barely paying attention as I obsess over my own new material.

Addison, Addison.

Addy? No…

I curse again. I scribble again. I scratch it all out and start anew. Again.

“I’m almost too scared to ask.”

I smile as August plops onto the seat beside mine. “About what?” I ask, gesturing at the band. “That?” I ask, rolling my eyes. “I really wish it didn’t have to be this way. Them against The Electrics, I mean. Bands should work together, you know? Build each other up. Not tear each other down.”

“No, that,” he says, tapping my notebook as he stifles a yawn. Last I saw him, he was sneaking into the back to catch up on some sleep, but with all the shouting, I doubt he was successful. “What’s up? Why are you hunched over looking shifty?”

“I don’t look shifty.”

“You don’t look chill, either.”

I sigh and lean close to whisper. “What rhymes with Addison?” I ask.

August laughs. “Oh, Christ.”

“What?”

“Don’t tell me you’re writing her a song, man!”

I shush him with a quick glance over my shoulder, but everyone’s attention is currently taken by Knox and Katrina arguing with each other about a key change. “I don’t know,” I say. “Maybe. You think she’d like that?”

“I think she’s probably heard dozens of songs from dozens of losers, just like you.”

I flip the notebook closed and drop my pen on top of it. “Yeah, you’re probably right,” I say. “I’ve been telling myself the same all morning, too.”

“Well, shake it off, big guy,” August says, patting my back. “I’ve got something that’s going to cheer you right up.”

“Oh, yeah? What?”

“Two words.” He pauses for effect. “Dade. Connery.”

I’m instantly curious. “What about him?”

“Rumor has it — and by rumor, I mean Jordan and Chrissy, so you know it’s legit — Mr. Connery is going to be at the BNB Fest in Austin, Texas.”

“Are you serious?” I ask, my eyes wider.

He nods. “It gets better, too. Not only is he performing at the festival, he’s going to check out the other acts because…”

August lets his words linger for far too long.

“Because what?” I ask.

“Because…” His smile digs in. “He’s recruiting the ones he likes for an upcoming comeback album.”

“A comeback album?!”

“That’s what the ladies said.”

My mouth hangs open. The greatest living musician on the planet is going to be at the same place as me at the same time. “Holy crap,” I say. “And he’s recruiting from the festival?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Well, shit, dude. You gotta get me a slot!”

Before I even finish asking, he holds up his hand. “Slow down there, sport.”

“No, Augie. Come on. I have to play that festival!”

“You can’t! It’s full up! Believe me, I tried.”

“But Criminal Records got their slot back,” I argue.

“Criminal Records got their slot back because they’re Criminal fucking Records, Harvey,” he says, stating the obvious. “You’re not.”

“Yeah. I know that, but?—”

“No one knows who you are,” he says. “You had a nice blip kicking it with Harmony before, but that’s gone. You’re just an opening act now.”

“Okay, fine,” I say, the knife twisting in my side. “I get it.”

I collapse and sit back, trying to make it look like I’m not pouting too hard.

August leans closer, his eyes sharp and devious. “But…”

I look at him. “But?”

“All is not lost, brother,” he says. “You might get a meeting.”

“A meeting?” I ask, needing him to say more. “A meeting with Dade?”

“A meeting with you and Dade Connery, yes.”

My heart tightens with hope. “You can do that?”

He smirks.

“Don’t tease me, August. Can you get me in to see him or not?”

“Me? No. But Jordan might.”

“How?”

August sighs, his expression full of respect and admiration. “I tell you what, man. These ladies have taught me so much already. I might not even go back to school at all.”

“How?”

He lays a hand on my arm. “Patience, grasshopper,” he says. “For now, just dream and…” He flicks my notebook. “Try not to get too distracted. Maybe work on some new, Addison-less material. If you get the chance to shoot your shot in front of Dade Connery, you want it to be great. Not just good.”

“You’re right,” I say, nodding along with him. “You’re right, yeah. I need to focus.”

“Focus,”he repeats.

“Getting on this tour was just step one.”

“That’s right.” August smiles as he squeezes my shoulder. “And step two?” He paints the air in front of us with one hand. “That’s in Austin.”

I take a deep breath. I feel it swirl around my insides, lighting sparks of possibility throughout my body. I haven’t tingled this much since the day of the radio contest. Since the day Criminal Records pointed at me. Since the day I met— no.

Focus, Harvey.

“Austin,” I repeat.

I turn to a blank page of my notebook, and I get back to work.