Page 1 of Echoes of a Muted Song

Chapter 1

(Johnny)

“I’m jelly, ya know,” Jagger grumbled as he blew a strand of my hair off his face while we hugged.

“Grape, I hope,” I replied, hugging him tight.

Though I was about to embark on a grand adventure, Iwashaving a hard time leaving my best friend behind. Odd, when I was reminded of how many similar moments we’d shared. I was forever saying goodbye, usually at the kickoff of some tour that would carry me away from him for months at a time. Sure, we exchanged selfies on a twice daily basis, at least and facetime videos had been a huge part of our relationship for almost a decade, but there had always been something special about the moments we got to spend together, maybe because we were closer to one another than we were to any of the family members either of us had left. We’d grown up together and started our musical journeytogether, but fate hadn’t been fair when she’d given us the same instrument, our voices.

Few bands have more than one singer and I didn’t know of any who had multiple singers who didn’t also play instruments, which neither of us did. Jagger had tried the piano early on but hadn’t been able to get the hang of it while I had fancied myself as a drummer only to discover that while passable behind a kit, my true flare had been in my ability to deliver a performance and my range, which was impressive, though hands down, Jagger’s was wider.

“Apple,” Jagger snapped. “And you’d better consider yourself lucky it isn’t peach, or you’d be in a lot of trouble for helping Kayden and Robbie convince me to leave my bike behind.”

Ahh, so that’s why he was being a bit testy, fair enough. “Uh-huh, as long as it’s not marmalade I know I won’t havetoomuch penance to pay.”

“Don’t count on it,” Jagger said, glaring as we finally stopped clinging to one another.

Okay, that wasn’t good, I’d have to bring something extra special back from Palm Springs when Draven and I joined them at the start of the tour.

“Oh, stop giving him shit, Lucky Charms, you know you’re not as mad as you’re pretending to be,” Kayden chided as he slid an arm around Jagger and kissed him on the side of his head. “If you’d brought your bike, only one of us would have been able to ride with you, then what wouldwe do?”

“Take turns?” Jagger replied, shooting him a cheeky grin.

“Or get a sidecar,” I offered, hoping to earn some points back with him.

When his eyes narrowed, darkening to fierce slits, I was sure I’d struck out, then a slow smile inched across his face, and he cocked his head. “That could be fun. I think Robbie would enjoy riding in one.”

“You think Robbie would enjoy riding in one of what?” Robbie asked as he stepped off the RV beside Draven, a clipboard in his hands.

I knew it was a honey-do list regarding the impending tour and was glad that Draven hadn’t insisted on bringing it with us. When he’d proposed this little vacation I’d been skeptical. I’d been half in love with the man for years, which had sucked, because he’d always identified as straight, so I’d been forced to keep my flirting on the PG end of things. Light and teasing, because I’d known before opening my mouth that I was going to be shut down but hadn’t been able to refrain from doing it anyway. Something had shifted before Rocktoberfest, when I’d been visiting Jagger and the rest of his band in Maine. Draven had looked at me one night and called me pretty, then he’d laughed and told me that I wouldn’t know how to act if he ever decided to take me up on any of the suggestive offers I’d made to him over the years.

Okay, so he’d been right. His words had stopped me cold, but they hadn’t stopped him. He’d started flirting before I’d even left and those video sessions I used to have with Jagger became nightly conversations with Draven that often left me feeling a bit off kilter. He had to know, just as I knew, that the odds of this thing between us evolving into something lasting were as slim as a rodent’s tail. Common sense said run. Hell, common sense saidget in the RV, you stupid motherfucker, can’t you see this son of a bitch is about to break your heart?

The problem with hearts was that even when they knew they were going to be shattered, they stupidly failed to protect themselves and instead, opened their arms wholeheartedly and welcomed the bomb.

He was gonna smash me to bits and I was going to spend most, if not all of the upcoming tour drowning my sorrows in weed, alcohol, and groupies. I tried to tell myself that I was ready for how much it was going to suck, but I lied to myself all the time, this was no different. It was gonna suck and I wasn’t gonna handle it well, especially not where he couldn’t see. I was gonna fall to pieces in those spaces and I wouldn’t even be able to call Jagger to come and bring some magically delicious mood enhancement to my room, because his two men were fiercely protective of their Lucky Charms, and I was no longer allowed so much as a nibble.

I guess that was fair. I don’t think I’d want to share, either, if I’d found the person that made me as happy as Jagger made them. They made him happy, too, and I loved that for him. He deserved all the love and joy in the world after the way he’d lost his brother. I’d be a shitty surrogate indeed if I tried to get in the way of that. It just sucked being me sometimes. I had the career I’d always wanted, but it hadn’t filled the aching sting of loneliness and rejection that had lived in me since my old man had left me in my Uncle Paul’s kitchen for him and my Aunt Caroline to raise.

To be fair, he was a junkie who could have done a lot worse, like sell me on the streets for more of the smack he shoved in his arms and even between his toes when the veins got bad. Instead, he left me with people who made sure that I never had to forage for food or steal it off the trays of others at school, which I’d developed a bad habit of doing. The moment it was in my hands I’d shove it in my mouth so no one could take it away, but it had meant trips to the principal’s office and free lunch forms I’d filled out and forged after the third time the old man had forgotten to sign them. The problem was that was all my caretakers made sure of.

Busy, successful, they’d had careers they’d always put before everything else, like starting a family of their own, which meant cousins considerably younger and a bunch of little kidsto watch over when I got home from school. The best thing that came out of living with them was that I’d switched schools, meaning all the trouble I’d gotten into, and the nicknames others had taken to calling me, like Trash Panda and Junky Johnny, got left behind. Instead, I got new teachers and a best friend, because that’s where I’d met Jagger, slouched in a sunbeam two rows over, scribbling on a piece of the brown scrap paper they always passed out in math class. Since we were sitting in social studies, I kind of figured it wasn’t a multiplication problem he was working on, so I snuck a peek on my way to the pencil sharpener only to discover that there were words filling the page, several scratched out and scribbled over, but not a single one of them had anything to do with the lesson on Bastille Day that was being taught.

“All set?” Draven asked as he stepped up beside me, so close I could feel the heat radiating off his body and yet he didn’t close the distance all the way, like Robbie did when he reached Jagger and Kayden and wrapped his arms around them.

Was I?

Patting down my pockets, I did my usual search to ensure that I hadn’t forgotten the essentials: key fob, wallet, phone, vape, all four were present. I guess I was as ready as I was going to be.

Nodding, because I didn’t trust myself to say anything lest the truth spill out, that no, no Iwasn’t ready to go because I wasn’t ready for our ten days together to end with him declaring that he was sorry, but was definitely straight and had only been exploring his bi-curious side. I got it, I swear I did, I saw it whenever I passed in front of a mirror. I was pretty. With the right clothes, hair and makeup, I easily passed for female. Coupled with my penchant for being adventurous, especially when it came to sex, it was easy to see why I made the perfect choice to fool around with. It wasn’t his fault that I’d caught feelings. Hell, he didn’t even know, which I congratulated myself on, because the last thing I wanted was for things to be awkward between us once the tour got underway.

Shit.

Fuck.

Goddammit.

Why the hell had I jumped at the chance to have my band tour with his?

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