Encore (Stereo Hearts Book 2) (5 page)

“Oh, Yosh,” she said, feeling him breathe in deep as he held her firm against him. Every inch of him felt rock-hard, including the part of him pressing into her thigh. She told herself she was imagining it, even as his breathing deepened. “I’m so proud of you, you know that?” She let her eyes flutter shut when she felt his breath warming her neck. The softness of his lips tickled the crook of her shoulder, and soon, her own breathing grew shallow. “It’s what you always wanted. What you always dreamed of.”

Yoshi set her to her feet, waiting until she’d pulled back and met his eyes to tuck his index finger into the belt loop of her high-waisted jeans. His thumb brushed the hint of brown skin peeking out between the waistband and the bottom of her long-sleeved purple crop top. His eyes fell, and he watched himself touching her.

Aria couldn’t help a soft gasp as the gentle strumming of his thumb lit fire to her skin and nearly took her to her toes.

Yoshi’s eyes rose to hers. “He wants me to sign now, and leave mid-tour. He wants me to do it without telling Adam. Says it’ll cause a media blitz. Get people saying my name.”

Aria’s eye grew larger. For a moment, she searched his, her gaze going from one of his hazel orbs to the next, as if she were sure she’d find the truth in at least one of them. Then she took a step back, causing his hand to fall away from her.

She crossed her arms, a strained laugh splitting her lips. “Shit. He really
is
a terrible human being.”

“Told you.”

“Well, what did you say?” she breathed. “That must’ve been so awkward for you. Obviously, you’re not leaving the tour….”

Yoshi faltered, licked his lips, and then looked away, pushing the beanie farther back on his head.

“Jesus Christ,” Aria whispered. “You told him you’d leave the tour.”

His eyes shot back to her. “I told him I’d think about it.”

She feared her eyes had gone so wide they might roll right out of the sockets. “You told him you’d
think
about it?”

Yoshi winced, gritting his teeth and running a hand down his mouth. He stepped closer to her, tearing the beanie from his head and motioning to his heart. His newly freed hair, devoid of gel, tumbled into his eyes. The contrast, black on hazel, seemed stronger than ever to her.

“This is my biggest dream, Aria,” he begged. “You just said it yourself. It’s what I’ve wanted my entire life
.
What I sat on that decrepit roof and wished for. Every night.
Begged
for.”

“You’re actually considering this.” She felt frozen in place. “I can’t believe what I’m hearing right now.”

Yoshi reared back, twisting the cap in his hand. “Come on, Aria. Don’t look at me like that.” He pointed to the door of the bus, the hat shaking in his hand. “It’s not like I signed. I didn’t sign.”

“But you didn’t say no. You didn’t tell him to go fuck himself the moment he even insinuated…” She took a moment, leering at him. “You’re actually considering… betraying Adam. Cutting him off at the knees? In the middle of the tour? He doesn’t even have you under contract. He has no one to take your place. He’d have to cancel shows. He’d literally be
scrambling
…” She grit her own teeth, craning her head. “You know
how excited he is about this tour. About his album.”

“
His
album,” Yoshi said. “I wrote every song on
his
album. Produced every song on
his
album. Made the tweaks that took every song on
his
album to the next level. But it’s
his
name that’s first on the jacket. It’s
his
face on every cover. He gets the shine. He gets the glory.”

Aria’s long lashes fluttered, as if trying to wake herself from a nightmare. Then she charged for the door, rearing away when he tried to take her arm.

“Where are you going?” he demanded.

She felt his eyes burning into her back as she stomped towards the door. “I need some air.” A cringe stained her face, and she knew he’d seen it too. When the heat of his body came in too close behind her, she turned on her heel, put her hand on his chest, and shoved him.

Yoshi took it, jamming his eyes closed.

“Don’t.” Her chest heaved. A moment later, she pushed open the doors of the bus.

When she stepped into the arena’s parking lot, the fans at the barriers cried out. Seeing it was her, the screams died down, until only one or two of them were left saying her name.

She understood. She wasn’t one of the band members.

She wasn’t Adam, who always got the loudest screams of all.

The silence didn’t bother her.

But, apparently, it bothered the hell out of Yoshi.

--

Yoshi found the red hijab during the first five minutes of the concert. Every show, the moment he sat down behind his drums, his eyes scanned the crowd for one person to focus on for the rest of the night. That night, it was the Indian man in the front row, wearing a full-length red hijab. The curious looks the other concert-goers couldn’t stop throwing him were entertaining the hell out of Yoshi. That guy was getting just as much attention as Adam.

Yoshi stared at the red hijab until his eyes went blurry. Soon, he was unable to tear his eyes away, because his brain had gone to another place. He thought of his argument with Aria that day on the tour bus. She’d told him she needed to be alone, so he’d given her space, hoping to resume their discussion once she came back.

But the band had beaten her back to the bus. By the time Aria had come stomping back on, Yoshi couldn’t talk to her the way he wanted. Too many ears, including Adam’s. On cramped tour buses, there were
no
secrets. His many attempts at pulling her off to the side before the show had all failed, as she’d been actively avoiding him.

Yoshi blinked back to the present, his vision clearing just as lights of the arena dimmed. Dots of bright white lights multiplied in the crowd by the thousands. He grinned as nearly every person in the sold-out arena held up their lighters, camera phone flashes, and glow sticks.

“That’s good,” Adam said into the microphone clutched in his hand.

Yoshi’s eyes went to the Jumbotron overhead, displaying Adam, who stood at the head of the stage with his hand over his eyebrows like a visor, searching the crowd with squinted eyes.

“Come on, now. I need more. Every light in the house, I want it on. Phones, lighters—whatever you got.” Just when it seemed every light in the dim house was on, bouncing around in the darkness like fireflies, hundreds more popped on. “There it is,” Adam breathed, dropping his hand to his side and putting it in his pocket. “Amazing. Now keep ‘em up. Keep your lights up.” Someone screamed, and Adam snapped at her dramatically. “Excuse me, Miss. I know I’m incredible, but hold your applause. Just for a moment. I need complete silence please. This is a matter of life and death.” He waited. The arena got as quiet as it reasonably could, and Adam sighed. “Thank you.”

He paused for effect, which seemed to work, because the room grew even more still, even more hushed, until it seemed all 17,000 concert-goers were waiting with baited breath.

“As some of you may know—” Adam turned towards the drums, motioning to Yoshi “—your boy Yoshi has a birthday coming up.”

The crowd exploded into screams.

Yoshi squinted as a white spotlight suddenly blasted him, fighting a grin as well as the emotion stinging his eyes. He shot a look to the side of the stage where Aria and the other two backup singers stood. Aria’s arms were crossed tight, and the look on her face….

Yoshi swallowed and tore his eyes away, back to Adam, who was facing the screaming crowd once more. Yoshi’s eyes rose to the Jumbotron just in time to see Adam, ever theatrical, swiping fake tears from under his eyes.

“Now, I don’t usually get emotional… but I could shed a thug tear for this one right here.” Adam turned and motioned to Yoshi again. “We’ve been together for five years. He’s been my road dog every step of the way. He’s got jokes all day, he never complains, not even when I’m being a goddamn fucking
asshole
.” The arena roared with laughter as Adam’s voice ebbed deeper. “He’s the kind of songwriter that only comes once in a lifetime. The kind that makes you wonder why the hell you’re even bothering… And for the rest of my life, I’ll count him as family. He’s my
brother
.”

Yoshi lowered his eyes, feeling the moisture collecting in them, unable to handle it. He heard the boom of Adam’s voice, however, as he said his next words.

“Ladies and gentlemen, Yoshi turns twenty-three this year, and he doesn’t like to celebrate his birthday. In fact, he hates
it. So every year, we make sure he doesn’t have a birth
day
, he has a birth
week
.”

The screams doubled in volume, and Yoshi released a mix of a chuckle and a groan.

“And today marks day one of Yoshi’s birthday week, so Philadelphia, I need you to make some
motherfuckin’ noise
!” Adam’s voice rose to DJ levels and he bounded across the stage, screaming at the top of his lungs. “I want everybody on their motherfuckin’ feet to help me sing ‘Happy Birthday’ to Yoshi tonight. It’s the first of seven, so make it count, motherfuckers.”

That time, Yoshi’s laugh was genuine and he looked to his left, meeting Aria’s gaze again.

Even as the crowd joined Adam, singing “Happy Birthday” in unison, the melody echoing across the arena in the way it only could when 17,000 people knew all the words, Aria didn’t sing.

And Yoshi’s smile vanished.

3

Aria stared at the ceiling of her bunk with her hands clasped over her stomach, trying to center herself. When the bunk overhead boomed again, followed by a flurry of giggles, she finally left hers with a groan, rolling onto the carpet, too sleepy to stand on her wobbly legs.

Holding the edge of the bunk, she pulled herself onto shaky feet, throwing an evil glare at Noodle’s bed. He’d forgotten to close the curtain. Or perhaps he’d left it open so everyone could see he’d landed the blonde twins he’d been eyeing in the front row the night before. He’d recruited the head of security to invite them backstage after the show, hoping it would get him some booty. And it had. It always did. It always amazed Aria how easily even the most beautiful women busted it open when the guys made them feel special by inviting them backstage. If they only knew how many women, all over the world, had received that very honor, they wouldn’t feel so special. They’d be hightailing it to the nearest STD clinic.

Aria still had to hand it to Noodle. Those bunks were small as hell, but he’d managed to contort his body so all three of them fit. Even if his lily-white ass was hanging over the edge.

She grabbed his curtain and yanked it closed before making her way into the living area of the bus. She really needed to pee, but she needed to eat more. Her stomach howled.

When she stepped into the kitchen area, she was suddenly reminded of why she’d been lying alone in her bed all morning.

Yoshi sat at the dining booth, frowning into his cell phone, swiping his thumb on the screen. The moment she appeared, he lifted his eyes and then sat taller.

He raised the brim of the baseball cap until it looked like it was in danger of tumbling off the back of his head, and tried to smile as he turned the screen of his phone towards her.

“The
Yaria
shippers are at it again,” he said.

Aria went to the cupboards, snatching a box of cereal and a paper bowl. She tried to find an empty space on the counter amidst all the Jack Daniel’s, Hennessy, Grey Goose, and Courvoisier that littered the counter and most of the sink. Giving up, she made the bowl in her hand, which was still unsteady from sleepiness.

“They found a selfie you took in my bedroom the week before the tour.” Yoshi stared at her. “It had that black and white painting above my bed in the background. Then they scoured my Instagram and found a picture
I
took in my room, from years ago, superimposed both of them, and now they’re completely convinced we’re fucking. My feed’s been blowing up ever since.”

“It’s crazy how badly a bunch of people we’ve never met want us to be together. God forbid one of us ever finds the time to date anyone else.”

“Yeah, they’re having a complete meltdown. It’s hilarious.” He looked across the booth when she plopped down on the other side and went to work on her cereal. He tapped her shin softly with his toe. “I’m still not cool with the play on our names, either.
Yaria
? I get one letter, you get four? Seems unfair.”

“I guess you’re never happy unless it’s all about you, huh?” Aria asked, shoving a spoonful of cereal in her mouth.

Yoshi made a face, leaning forward and lowering his voice since the rest of the band, besides Noodle, were still asleep in the back. “Look. I’m not signing the contract. Not if it’s going to have you looking at me like this every morning for the rest of our lives. I can’t live with you being this angry in the morning time.”

She dropped her spoon. “Listen… I get it. Music is your first love. It’s what got us through the rougher nights in that awful house…” She exhaled through her nostrils. “And Adam was right during his speech the other night. You are a brilliant songwriter. A
beautiful
songwriter. And you deserve to have the world know that. You deserve to have the world know how talented you are. I truly believe you were born to touch people with you music, but… like this…”

“I’m not going to sign.”

“Don’t make that choice on account of me.”

“You know…” He readjusted his hat again, looking away. He took in the sink full of alcohol. “The first song I ever wrote was for you.” His eyes came back to her. “And every song I wrote after that was for you too, because at the end of every piece-of-shit day in that piece-of-shit house, I couldn’t
sleep
until I heard your voice. Until I heard you singing my words back to me. The last song I ever write will be for you. Your voice is everything to me. It’s… home
.
”

Aria’s breathing picked up, her spoon still submerged in the cereal and milk.

“If I don’t have you, I don’t write. If I don’t write, I lose my mind. So, it’s a no-brainer. If you don’t go, I don’t go.”

“I never said I wouldn’t go.”

Yoshi took her whispered words as ammunition, charging forward in a hushed voice. “I’ll give you everything you ever wanted, Bo. You won’t just be a backup singer. I’ll bring you up front. You won’t sing behind me. Once I have the power, you’ll sing beside me. Just like the old days.”

“As much as I’d love that, this isn’t about me. This is your journey, not mine. Sony isn’t stupid. They want you because you’re truly a star. You’ve got it all. And I have no doubt in my mind that you’ll get everything you ever dreamed of. You’ll get it, and you’ll deserve it.”

Yoshi reached across the table and covered her hand in his. When she didn’t instantly pull back, like she had been for the last twenty-four hours, he dropped his head and exhaled, tightening his grip.

“So don’t you dare refuse to sign that contract because of me. I’m not going to look up a year from now and find your resentful-ass face looking back at me, blaming me for destroying your biggest dream. I just want you to do it right,” Aria breathed. “Don’t throw away your dream, Yosh, but I’m begging you… If you’re going to leave the Keys… Please, just do it right.”

Yoshi watched her across the table, a frown collecting between his eyebrows.

--

“Happy biiiiirthday, dear Yoshiiiii! Happy biiiiirthday to yooooou!”

Yoshi waited, stone-faced, for the misery to end. Even as applause rang out from all over the Waffle House early that morning in Charlotte, NC, his face remained stoic. The song came to a much-appreciated conclusion, but the torture continued when a random voice shouted for Yoshi to make a wish and blow out his candle—a hot pink ‘23’ that had been smashed into ten layers of chocolate chip pancakes.

Yoshi stared at the pancakes, and the flame lapping at the top of the candle. He stopped flicking his own lighter under the table and crossed his arms.

A moment later, from the other end of the booth, Adam stood from his seat and leaned across the table, blowing out the candle for him.

“Ayyy!” Another round of deafening applause broke out.

Sandwiched between the two linebackers who served as The White Keys’ heads of security, Yoshi nearly disappeared into the bright red booth. The band, the crew, and the security team all leaned forward to clink their beer bottles in a toast to Yoshi’s pouting face. They were the only degenerates in the building smashing Bud Lights at seven o’clock in the morning.

“It is officially day three of Yoshi’s birthday week,” Adam said, motioning to Yoshi with his beer bottle. “And my boy looks more miserable about it than ever. These are the moments that make my life worth living, folks. I love this kid so much, and I’ll do everything in my power to show him how much I don’t. Three days down, four to go, my friend.”

“I hate you so much right now,” Yoshi said to Adam, who gave him a glowing smile across the table just as the middle-aged waitress snatched the burnt candle out of Yoshi’s chocolate chip waffles. She patted him on the head like a puppy.

“I love you more.” Adam drowned his pancakes in syrup with a self-satisfied smirk on his face.

“Why do you hate your birthday so much?” Steve, an overweight, balding black man, and head of their security team, nudged Yoshi as everyone dug into their breakfast. Around the restaurant, patrons were making it no secret that they were in awe of the band huddled into the three tables in the corner. Yoshi watched them curiously. Usually, when the band was on tour, people made an effort to
pretend
they didn’t recognize them, even if they did. To pretend they didn’t care.

Not in North Carolina. In North Carolina, people leered openly. They snapped blatant photos. They rolled down their car windows to have a full-on conversation. Yoshi had never been able to decide whether he loved it or hated it.

“I dunno…” He poked at his waffles with a fork. His eyes rose to the window of the restaurant, and when he saw Aria sitting on the curb outside, every bone in his body wanted to be out there with her. But he knew his company wouldn’t be welcome. His heart felt like it sprouted wings and flew out of his body. “I just do, I guess.”

“Yoshi thinks he’s the first orphan to ever walk the face of the Earth,” Noodle explained, nodding at him. “So he’s always a little bitch whenever his birthday rolls around. We call it the Tragic Orphan Syndrome. Aria’s the same way.”

“Aw, man, I didn’t know that,” Steve said, giving Yoshi an embarrassed look.

Yoshi shrugged. “Me and Aria… We grew up in the same foster home. In that house, birthdays were never happy occasions. It just reminded all the kids why they were there in the first place.”

Noodle pointed his fork at Yoshi, his eyes heavy. “This is exactly what I’m talking about. Here we are, at the Waffle House in North Carolina, getting ogled by every hot piece of ass in this restaurant, about to perform for a crowd teeming with hot pieces of ass before we lie in bed at a five-diamond hotel, balls-deep in
several
hot pieces of ass, and this idiot is too busy being a tragic orphan to appreciate it.”

“How did you land this gig?” Steve asked.

Yoshi looked up and met Adam’s eyes. That time, it was Adam who appeared to be in a position of not wanting to talk about this. That made Yoshi’s heart sing. Payback time. “Adam. He had an opening for drummer. I walked in and did a piss-poor job… but he gave me a chance anyway.”

“You should’ve seen this guy,” Jon spoke up. “He walked in, skinny as shit, all gangly legs and arms, looking like one of those kids on the Unicef commercials with the flies around their lips.” Laugher broke out, and Jon had to shake out a few chuckles before he could continue himself. “I took one look at him and thought, ‘There’s no way this kid is going to handle the drums like we need him to.’ But he sat down and just… destroyed it. To this day, I have no idea where all that power came from with those skinny little arms.”

“Aria was skinny as hell back then too,” Noodle said. “I mean, she still is, but back then… it was just
tragic.”

“We weren’t skinny,” Yoshi countered, a smile finally breaking his lips as he stabbed his fork into his first bite of pancakes. “We were hungry.”

Noodle frowned. “What’s the difference?”

Yoshi finished the forkful of pancakes he shoved into his mouth. “Being skinny is a choice. Being hungry is a circumstance. We were
hungry
.”

“Oh, shut the hell up, you tragic fucking orphan. Do you see what I’m talking about?” Noodle asked Steve as he motioned to Yoshi. “Still crying, even with that skyscraper of pancakes in his face.”

Laugher rang out all around the table, and soon the subject was changed to the upcoming show.

--

Outside, sitting on the edge of the curb with her knees pulled up and her arms resting against them, Aria squinted into the sun, practicing her vocal riffs. She’d lifted her eye patch so both her irises could drink in the rays. It was painful, but she liked the burn.

When a shadow loomed next to her, she slapped the patch back down over her eye, not looking up to see who was groaning into a sitting position next to her.

The moment she took a deep breath and her nostrils filled with the scent of weed, Head and Shoulders, and bourbon, she knew who’d just plopped down.

“Don’t slap that patch back down on account of me,” Noodle said, pushing his waist-length blond hair behind one ear with his heavily ringed finger. With his hair out of the way, his chiseled jaw took center stage, so sharp it could cut glass. “I gave up trying to see what that eye looked like years ago. I assumed you’d eventually slip up and forget to put that patch on, or lose it, but five years later and… nothing.”

“I have extras stashed everywhere. Enough for each day of the tour.”

“Super excessive.”

“You’re just mad because you want to see my eye.”

“True,” Noodle admitted, smiling gently, which made his blue eyes light up. “Out here practicing your runs?”

“Yeah…” She kicked her legs out, crossing them at the ankle. “When I woke up, my throat was bothering me again. Just wanted to be sure I’m up to par for tonight.”

“You been keeping up on your meds?”

“Yes, Daddy Noodle, I’ve been taking my meds.”

“Hey, you should feel blessed that I even care enough to ask. There isn’t a single soul on this tour that I give enough of a shit about to ask if they’re still on their meds. And you know half these motherfuckers are popping pills like penny candy. We could start a pharmaceutical company will all the tablets we got floating around.”