Midnight Stage Read Online Sheridan Anne

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Dark Tags Authors:
Advertisement

Total pages in book: 140
Estimated words: 129207 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 646(@200wpm)___ 517(@250wpm)___ 431(@300wpm)
<<<<384856575859606878>140
Advertisement


The day quickly begins to pass with Rae lost in her work as we perfect our sets. When the dancers show up, she barely even notices, even after catching them all over me yesterday. Before Rae stormed through here, I was more than happy to allow Stacey and Jessica to distract me with their bodies and provocative dance moves, but today, I couldn’t care less.

As we take a break, I jump down from the stage and walk across the studio to get a drink, and with every step I take, I feel Rae’s stare tracking me. I almost want to look up, just to catch her in the act, but I won’t dare. Being here in my space is just as hard for her as it is for me. This isn’t just my studio, it’s my home, and there was a time I thought that it would someday be ours, that we would raise a family here.

After taking a drink, I glance up to notice Dylan has followed me, and after grabbing a drink for himself, he steps in beside me and nods toward Rae. “You think she’s okay in there?”

“Yeah,” I say as a small smile pulls at the corners of my lips. “Look at her. We should have brought her on the second she graduated college. She’s in her element. She hasn’t stopped all morning. Not to mention, you saw the way she played Lenny. I don’t think I’ve met anyone who’s ever been able to do that apart from Axel.”

“Yeah, kinda badass,” he says. “But you know she never graduated, right? She was talking about it last night after the whole naked street run. She said that after the funeral, she spiraled, kinda the same way we all did, but she couldn’t pull herself out of the darkness and everything just . . . sucked for her. She never completed her degree, never got to graduate, and eventually moved back home to Michigan.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah. Wasn’t all she said last night though,” he says with a sharp edge in his tone.

“What are you talking about?” I ask, watching one of the label’s assistants pause at the door of Rae’s new temporary office, knocks, and then walks in with lunch. Rae thanks him, and as he walks back out, he pulls against the door to close it, only it doesn’t quite seal.

“She hasn’t heard any of our newer music,” he tells me, his gaze locked on the cracked door just as mine swivels around to meet his stare.

“The fuck?”

“Yeah, that’s what I said,” he tells me. “She’s avoided every album since the first tour. She doesn’t even know the titles.”

I shake my head, unable to process what the hell he’s trying to tell me. “But all those songs, I wrote them for her—”

“Yeah, she’s never heard them,” he confirms as my head spins.

There’s no fucking way.

She used to lay on her bed reading while I wrote. My lyrics were so entwined with her, they could have easily come from her brain instead of mine, and to know she hasn’t even heard these songs that have been out for years is almost absurd.

A wave of anger takes over me, and for a moment, I consider storming in there and demanding answers, but it quickly morphs into a strange mix of sadness and regret. All those years, knowing I couldn’t reach out to her, I thought I could communicate through my lyrics. I would imagine her begging Axel for early copies of our new albums and sitting in her bed pouring over the lyrics, knowing that I was speaking directly to her. But to know she never even attempted to hear them guts me in a way I wasn’t prepared for.

“Come on,” I say. “We’ve got shit to do.”

Dylan and I make our way back to the stage, and as I reach for my guitar and hook the strap over my shoulder, I look to Rock. “We’re doing ‘Cold Hearted Bitch.’ ”

“Huh?” he says as he reaches for his drumsticks. “That’s not on the setlist.”

“Oh, he knows,” Dylan mumbles under his breath.

“Fuck,” Rock grunts, the two guys knowing clear as day that this is a message for Rae. If she thinks she can get through this without hearing our songs and taking in the lyrics I slaved over for her, she’s got another thing coming.

Keeping my gaze locked on Rae through the office window, I prepare myself for the start of the song. Rock slams against the drums for the killer intro of “Cold Hearted Bitch” and Rae jumps in surprise, her head snapping up as the crack in the door makes her little soundproof office not so peaceful anymore.

She stands, probably to close the door properly, but as she crosses the office and reaches for the door, the lyrics come in, and I sing them with every raw, pain-filled emotion coursing through my veins.


Advertisement

<<<<384856575859606878>140

Advertisement