Razor's Edge (Afflictions) by Racquel Reck Read Free Book Online

the fact that he messed up last night, even though he’s not the one who did. I should go upstairs and lock all my doors. Then she’ll have to knock instead of coming down like I told her to. But I might not hear her, and she’d probably leave. Whatever. "Try to keep up."
    Heading to the center of the room, with the drums behind me, I give the signal.
    Bryan’s bass and Wiley’s drums start off the song, followed by Tryst. His fingers dance across the strings, and every note is A-fucking-plus. The melodic sound of Lina’s keyboard enters the mix and I wait for the right time to belt out my lyrics.
    There’s a reason why I chose this song. Most of the songs we do, I wait for the right repeat of the melody from the guitar. I have to be sure this guy can play it right. And there it is.
    I scream into the mic and follow it, rapping the lyrics.
    Tryst is doing a great job. He nails a complicated bridge, which is important for my transition into the chorus.
    As he leads me in, I look over at him to give him some reassurance, but the dude is completely blank faced. No emotion. Just standing there, staring off into space and he’s not smiling. He may have talent and that’s all good, but his machine-like stage presence sucks big, fat, hairy ass.
    The lyrics are flying out of my mouth and I try to ignore his “not really there” appearance. We go into the downbeat and he switches it up. It sounds way better than what Rictor wrote. It helps Lina’s bass fit perfectly with my falsetto-like scream. I can’t tell if he’s improvising because he forgot the right chords or if he’s doing it purposely to impress us.
    Looking at my band mates, I see the confusion in their eyes, but we all just go with it, and let him do his thing.
    He switches back to what Rictor originally wrote, and leads me perfectly into the conclusion of the song. I give one final scream into the mic, and Wiley ends the song with a few solid beats. The room goes silent.
    We’re all staring at the man who’s a hell of lot better than Rictor. They say that things happen for a reason, and I’m beginning to put more stock in that phrase.
    He sighs and looks up. "Sorry I changed it up a bit, but I think it sounds way better if you invert it."
    "Oh, I like him." Lina gets a dirty look from Bryan. She laughs. "Not like that. His talent fits with ours. Just sayin’."
    "Better than Rictor." Wiley hits his snare and laughs. "He’s got my vote."
    "Yeah, he’s got the talent." Bryan looks at Tryst. "But dude, your stage presence sucks. It’s too robotic. Not sure you’re gonna generate fans looking the way you do. You need to move around some. Get the audience pumped and keep them there. You need to bob up and down or something."
    Tryst gives him a blank stare, like he couldn’t care less about what Bryan said. I’ve seen my ten-year-old niece give my brother Logan this same expression when he’s lecturing her.
    Bryan’s jealousy is all over that comment. He’s pissed by Lina’s reaction to Tryst. Which strikes a huge chord with me. If they can’t get along, this shit isn’t gonna work. If this guy is going to cause problems like Rictor did, I don’t want him in the band. I’d rather have a happy band than be signed and have it fall apart in the first few weeks. Maybe I can spin it. Emily did say Rictor was off. I could tell her we kicked him out and are looking for a new one. Hell, she might even know of one. Producers do that type of shit all the time. What the hell was I thinking trying to pass Tryst off for Rictor?
    "Thing is...you’re our first audition and we—"
    "No sweat." He stands. "I just needed a reason to get out of letting an eight year old tatt me up." He walks over to the wall and unplugs his cord from the amp.
    Bryan’s eyebrows shoot upward. "Why would you let an eight year old tattoo you?"
    Tryst pauses and looks back at him. "Because he’s my cousin’s kid and she’s my boss. He’s a pretty good artist. I just don’t have