Page 33 of Omega Rock

Thousands of people are out there. They came to hear us play.

I thought I was ready. I stillthinkI’m ready. But I can’t stop being anxious.

Sable might actually kill me if she found out. Wes, too. But neither are here even though they should be by now. Actually, Wesmightbe around Sound House somewhere, schmoozing with anyone worthy of networking with, but I haven’t seen him.

Regardless, I’m alone.

Alone with the mini bar, my nerves, and a show to play in less than twenty minutes as my first live gig with a band I joined less than a week ago featuring my favorite musician of all time, and every one of them is an alpha scent match.

Yeah, screw it.

I race over to the mini bar and pull a sample bottle of whisky from the selection. It only contains a shot or two, and I down it in one go. The tan liquid burns my throat but I immediately feel—orthinkI feel—it calming my frayed nerves. A second little bottle of whisky sits behind it. I drink that one, too, for good measure, and then toss both in the trash as the door to the ready-room opens. A flash of pink, short-cropped hair is all the warning I have.

Sable launches herself through when she sees me and wraps her arms around my neck. We stumble sideways but manage to stay upright. “Mia!”

I hold her close. “Hi! Thank you for coming out tonight to support us.”

Sable pulls back. “Duh, why wouldn’t I be here?” Her eyebrows fold in on themselves. My gut sinks. “Did you drink?”

There’s certainly no denying it when she’s close enough to smell it on my breath. “Just two of those small bottles. My anxiety right now is through the roof.”

Sable purses her lips and looks at me less like a disappointed parent and more like one who understands. “There are other ways to deal with it.”

“I know.” I gesture vaguely in the direction of the stage. “But this is the quickest. It’s just building and building right here.” I rub my closed fist against my chest. “What if we screw this up?”

Sable holds my shoulders. “How can you? You won’t. You have two performers who are used to this size venue and this type of gig. And your bassist’s performed before as well, too, right? And so have you.”

“Thousands of people, Sable,” I argue. “Not the hundreds that fit into Seth’s place.”

She raises her chin. “Seth’s here, too, speaking of. He’s excited to see you perform again.”

More like he’s excited to go anywhere Sable invites him. Turns out, Seth’s quite the golden retriever love interest.

“Hope he enjoys the show.” Hopefully it won’t be the wrongkindof show.

Sable glances around the ready-room. “Where are the guys?” She’s yet to meet them, but I know how badly she wants to shake Aiden’s hand and possibly profess a love going back many years into her teens.

“Backstage,” I answer. “I should join them. We’re due on shortly.”

Sable grabs my hand and pulls us toward the door. “Do lead the way, then! I want to meet these scent matches of yours.”

My stomach flip-flops again and I shoot a longing glance at the mini bar. “We’re not really focusing on that right now.” But my mind is replaying much less professional encounters with both Leo and Noah.

Sable knows. She knows everything since Itellher everything. She smirks. “Sure, but when it comes down to it, I still want to have met them. Because are you really going to keep them at arm’s length forever? They seem chill enough.”

“Chill enough and pack material are two different things.”

“Says a woman who’s never been with an alpha or a pack,” Sable counters. “Surely it’s worth a shot.”

I stop walking. Sable pauses too. “I just want to get through tonight, Sable. Wes surprised us with this yesterday, and even if we’re ‘ready,’ I don’t think we are.”

Sable holds my face in her hands for the briefest of moments. “You’re more ready than you’ll allow yourself to feel. So let’s get you up there to your band. I’ll be in the front row against the barricade cheering you on.”

Sable has been my rock since fourth grade. I have to believe her, even if I don’t believe in myself.

Especiallywhen I don’t believe in myself.

I nod, and we walk together up to the backstage area where the rest of Exit Fate are getting ready. Aiden’s already strapped on his guitar and Noah’s doing the same as we enter. Leo’s jumping a bit with drumsticks in his hands. He’s wearing a black tank top, and the others are similarly dressed, plain colors, no real logos, and definitely no logos for other bands.

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