“I’m going to neuter you.”

“Oh. Kay. Back to the first question.” He continued to beam at me, his cheeks plump and moving around as he ate his chips. Around a mouthful, he asked again, “So, the band’s name is Braille, right?”

I groaned, but went back to the cupboards for more chips. “Yes. Why do you keep asking?”

Keeping his bowl of chips close to his chest, he followed behind me. “The band’s name was kinda named after you, right? Brielle. Braille. I get that part.”

“Yes,” I clipped out, walking around a group of girls chugging their beer. “Brielle and Braden. The guys thought it was funny. Why?”

“I remember when you guys first started the band, but you left it, right?”

I was gritting my teeth. For some reason, this guy was getting on my last nerve. “Dustin,” I warned.

He leaned over my shoulder, too close for comfort. “Yeah?”

“Get to the point and then back the fuck off me.”

“Oh.” He moved his body back, but continued to lean forward so his head was right next to my ear. “That better?”

“No.” I grabbed the rest of the chips and wound back through the crowd. Instead of filling the bowls, I just dumped the bags onto the tables. People could do with them what they pleased. Then I went in search for Braden.

Dustin went with me. “So yeah,” he kept going with his question, “you quit the band, and they kept the name, but now you’re back with them?”

“Yes. So what?”

He stuffed another handful of chips into his mouth and shrugged, cocking his head to the side. “I guess nothing. I’m just trying to get all the history down in my head.”

Spying Braden in a corner with Luke, I veered toward them. They were surrounded by a group of girls. No surprise there.

“For what?” I asked Dustin.

“I’ll make a great head roadie. Putting that out there.”

As I got next to my brother’s side, I rotated my head toward Dustin, taking in his over six-foot frame. He appeared to be a mix of all-American-boy and preppy-douchebag-frat-boy. His blue eyes, blond wavy hair, and square jaw made him look like an innocent, nice guy.

“Dustin,” I said.

“Hmm?” He flicked at his earlobe. “All ears here.” He chuckled to himself, putting another chip into his mouth.

“You were a popular jock in school with us.”

He bobbed his head up and down. “I’m with you. I was.”

“Your parents are rich.”

A second bob, followed with another wink. “Still are, I believe.”

“You got kicked out of Harvard, right?”

“Oh, yeah. Too much booze and chicks.” His head was continuously moving up and down, going along with each question I asked. “Living the carefree life, I might add.”

“And you’re kissing my ass because you’re hoping for a future spot as the head roadie with the band?”

“Yep. If you guys will have me.”

“Why?” I was dumbfounded. “You should be interning at your dad’s company, whatever it is that made Forbes magazine.”

He snapped his fingers and pointed at me. “See. That’s why. I don’t want that responsibility, not yet anyway. Here I am. Living a hobo-lifestyle.” He patted the bowl. “Got my chips.” He gestured to Braden and Luke. “Got some future rock star friends.” Then he sent a charming wink at the group of girls who had been talking to Braden and Luke. “And hopefully some future ass, too.”

Some of the girls laughed, while another gasped. One girl gave him the middle finger. A second rolled her eyes, but none of them left.

“I said hopefully, ladies. Hopefully.” He pointed to Luke, Braden, and me. “These are good people, my future people.” Lifting his hand, he crossed his fingers. “Here’s to hoping, anyway.”

Braden and Luke were grinning. At the sight of the relaxed amusement on Luke’s face, I was startled for a moment. My body warmed at the sight, and the corners of my own mouth curved up in response. Because he smiled, I wanted to smile. Then he glanced to me, and the smile faded. So did mine. I was zapped by the abrupt change.

He leaned forward, murmured something to Braden, and left.

I watched him go and felt the kick of rejection against me. It had been like this for a month now. Since talking to him, things had gotten better. A tiny bit. We performed, and once we were on stage, everyone clicked. It shouldn’t have been like that, but that was the one place all four of us didn’t hate each other. It was like all the bullshit had vanished, and we were back in the beginning. Emerson was easygoing. Braden was…still Braden. Luke was my best friend again, and I loved everybody. As soon as we were done, though, the same tension immediately returned. Awkward silence was the norm now, as we set up before our gigs and as we tore down afterward. There was no gig planned for this weekend, and a part of me had looked forward to a weekend of working at Rowdy’s and not feeling chewed up inside and out, just by being around Emerson and Luke.

I hadn’t known about the party until Braden mentioned it earlier. And watching Luke walk away, for what felt like the hundredth time this month, I had enough. I stormed after him without thinking.

I bumped into two of the girls at the same time, pushing them back.

“Hey,” one girl cried out.

The other hissed under her breath, “Bitch.”