I pour myself a vodka and plop down on one of the old studio stools. The dim light makes everything feel cozy, and I'm really glad no one is here yet.

 I just needed some time alone to chill out and lighten the weight on my shoulders. The vodka burns in my throat ...nice—just what I was looking for.

I pulled out my guitar and kicked back in my chair. when I was about to strum my first chord, I heard a lock click open. Then, a familiar high-pitched voice popped in, pulling my focus away from the music.

"What did you do this time, Braxton?" Jully stormed into the practice room, her voice tight with frustration. Her braided hair was pulled into a bun, and she wore a black polka-dot dress. As our band manager for Sky High—one of the hottest groups in mainstream media—she always meant business.

I'm Braxton Vaux, the lead guitarist and songwriter, plus one of Sky High's original co-founders, alongside my friends Asher and Jully-yes, the one who is fuming over my head now.

I frowned, looking up at her. "What do you mean?" I asked, feigning innocence. Turning back to my guitar, I tried to hide the smirk tugging at my lips.

Jully scoffed, easily seeing through my façade. With a heavy sigh, she sat across from me on the chair.

We'd gone from classmates to business partners, and she had a way of cutting through my bullshit. At this point, there was no need to pretend.

"You know what I mean, Brax!" she snapped. "Larry called off the contracts. He said you punched him?!"

Her words hung in the air, and I could only grimace. No wonder I was in the practice room late at night, instead of going home to or well to— bang my girlfriend.

It's been eight months since our original drummer and my friend, Jonathan Hives—Johnny—left the band to chase his dream of becoming a lawyer. I still feel a wave of nausea just thinking about it.

Leaving Sky High? The fans? This lifestyle? It felt like some kind of twisted joke.

People would kill to trade places with us: hitting the road, jam sessions, contests—it's a dream most can only imagine. Yet, somehow, Johnny walked away from it all declaring his love for what? I still can't fully wrap my head around it. But, you know how it is with friends: you support them, even if it means watching your bandmate swap drumsticks for law school textbooks.

Since then, we've had countless drummer auditions. Larry stuck around the longest—two excruciating weeks. And, god, he was an annoying jerk.

"It's not my fault. He shouldn't have run his mouth like that." i said meeting her eyes.

Honestly, I gave Larry a fair warning. The dude's got a thick skull, and sometimes it takes a fist to get the gears turning.

Did I punch him in the face? Yep.

Did he totally deserve it? Oh, absolutely. yes.

"You know what? He was this close to making allegations against you!" Jully lowered her glasses, her frustration obvious.

"Give him some money, and he'll forget it ever happened," I said, completely unfazed.

Jully shot me a look like I'd just sprouted a second head like she wanted to strangle me. But honestly? People like Larry are just desperate for attention. Show them the money, and they'll practically kiss your feet.

"Brax, I can't deal with this all the time. You're the one who chose Larry," she pointed out, her voice tight with frustration.

"He was the only option at the time," I replied, setting my guitar down and crossing my arms like it was obvious. "Come on, Jully."

We just locked eyes in a staring contest, and after a moment, Jully sighed again, clearly exhausted.

"What did he say?" she asked, her tone shifting to something calmer—like when she's not in 'business mode' anymore, looking at me like she's waiting for some kind of answer.

.

.

.

It took me back to just three hours ago, at the club. 

We'd just finished our set at one of the most exclusive spots in town. A few drinks, and we can enjoy the rest of the night by ourselves.

Camilla —my girlfriend. Yeah, the blonde bombshell and bassist of Sky High. We've been dating for a year now, and honestly, it's been... whatever.

She practically lunged at me when I rounded the lounge table, pulling me into a hug that felt like she was trying to crush me.

"Babe, you were amazing," she cooed, squeezing me so tight it was almost uncomfortable. Her floral perfume—ugh, it made me want to gag. But, I couldn't exactly push her away, could I? Not when I had to keep up appearances.

Larry was lounging on the other sofa, surrounded by a couple of girls. He's tall, sure, but definitely not as built as me. I'm not exactly rocking a full-blown six-pack, but it's good enough to make girls drool. I mean, who wouldn't want a piece of this?

"Here's our star," Larry said with a smirk, his voice dripping with arrogance and cockiness.

I ignored him completely, letting my grin do the talking. Yeah, suck it up, sucker. I take my place on the adjacent sofa with Camilla. one arm wrapped around her shoulder. 

God, I still hate her perfume...

"Yep, star's right," I said with a smug smile, casually patting Larry's shoulder, "just making sure the spotlight doesn't burn out before you get your turn to shine." The way his grin faltered? Priceless. I could practically feel his confidence crumbling. I could barely contain my amusement. I was loving every second of it.

"Brax, you know what?" Larry hissed, grabbing my attention. "You think everything's gonna stay the same? People are gonna turn on you when they see the real you. Everyone's gonna ditch you because of that attitude."

I usually brushed off stuff like this when there were eyes on me, but Larry's eyes? They were burning with that desperate need to get back at me. It was almost... entertaining.

That was his first mistake.

My blue eyes locked onto his, a silent warning. But before I could say anything, Camilla pulled my attention away, rambling on about the new dress she bought and how her nails didn't match, so she had to get them redone.

Still, it didn't mean Larry was off the hook. No, no, Larry was going to pay for this. 

So, I waited.

Waited for the perfect opportunity.

As soon as Larry stepped outside for a smoke, I followed him—before Camilla could start another one of her endless stories I couldn't care less about.

I stepped into the cool night air, letting it hit my face. The rooftop was nearly empty, just a couple in the far corner minding their own business.

I walked slowly behind Larry, my hands tucked into the pockets of my black leather jacket, the wind brushing my hair out of my eyes as I took in the scene.

"Jealousy's really starting to take over your brain, huh, Larry?" I said, pulling a pack of cigarettes from my pocket and leaning back against the wall.

Larry, being Larry, laughed and turned around.

That was his second mistake.

"If I remember right, Brax, it was your parents who left a son like you, not mine," Larry said, pushing every single button I had left.

My fist landed on Larry's face before I could even think. He grunted, his body jerking back as his knees hit the ground. He cupped his bleeding nose, groaning in pain.

"You fucker," he snarled, bloodshot eyes burning with fury. "I'm gonna kill you."

I didn't flinch. I moved my other fist swiftly, stopping just inches from his face, letting him feel every bit of the tension.

Larry flinched, and before I could say another word, he scrambled to his feet, bolting for the exit door.

I grabbed his collar, yanking him back with one swift motion.

"Say those words again, Larry," I threatened, my voice low and cold. "You're about to say goodbye to your career."I let him go, watching as he ran off, panic in his eyes.

I stood there, Larry's words replaying in my head like a film on a loop.

My phone buzzed, pulling me from my thoughts. It was a text from

Camilla: Babe, where are you? 

I unclenched my fist, realizing I hadn't even noticed how tight I was holding it.

Braxton: Just coming, baby.

I texted back, shoving my phone back into my pocket and wiping the blood from my knuckles.

I took a deep breath, stepped back inside, and slipped into my persona once again.

And that's how I came back to SkyHigh studio after dropping Camilla home.

.

.

.

Jully cleared her throat when I didn't say anything, lost in my own thoughts. She studied my face, her eyes searching for something, then crossed her arms. She sighed, knowing that if I wanted to tell her, I would have. But not about Larry. Those words... I didn't want anyone else to know.

"I'll take care of it this time, but don't you dare do it again Brax. we need a drummer." Jully said firmly, standing up and coming closer. She poked her index finger into my chest. "and you have to find a drummer, Braxy," she added, not giving me a moment to argue back.

"And you don't need this" She took my vodka bottle, her voice softening.

"hey wait-" I stood up.

she stood near the door and looked at me, "Go home, okay? And text me." She sounded like a mom, and I hated how much she was right and it eased my chest.

"Okay, don't sweat it now, you'll get wrinkles early," I said with a grin, earning a groan in return. It made me smile.

All I had to do was find a drummer?

Okay, It couldn't be that hard.

...

little did I know, finding the drummer was just the beginning of the storm that was about to come.