Page 64 of From Drummer to Gamer

I flushed. “I’m only there for my brother.”

“Is it?” He flicked a brow, grinning. “I think I heard him say you named the label. I’ve known that grump for a while, and he’s spoken like ten words to me, but that… doesn’t seem to be the case for you,” he teased, his brown eyes shining with glee.

I lifted a shoulder. “Es lo que es.”

“Ah?” His eyes widened. “Eres Latino?”

“Si, mi padre es mitad Mexicano.”

“Okay, stop, guys.” Lily scrunched her nose, pouting. “I’ve no clue what you’re both talking about.”

Gabe laughed at her. “Sierra here was just telling me that her dad is half Mexican.”

“You’re hot, and you can speak two languages,” Lily muttered. “Now, I’m jealous.”

“Hey, I’m hot, and I can speak two languages too,” Gabe added.

“Three, actually,” I said, “I’m also fluent in Mandarin.”

Lily gaped. “Now I’m super jealous.”

Evy’s eyes widened in wonderment. “That’s so amazing. I’m twenty-six, and I still can’t speak English right.”

“I grew up speaking it, so it wasn’t that hard for me,” I replied with a smile.

The next hour passed by, and I chatted with the girls and Gabe while Rory and Jack were immersed in a deep conversation about some building materials.

I didn’t have many girlfriends in my life except for Kiki, but Evy and Lily were so warm and welcoming that I spoke with them like we’d known each other for years despite our age difference.

They didn’t have one arrogant bone in their body, not even the guys—the Four Foxes, and their family shared a sacred bond. I could tell that they fiercely protected each other and were a warm unit of love.

An hour later, the group dispersed with their significant others to the dance floor while Raphy stood by the bar chatting with a bunch of giggling girls.

I was perfectly comfortable sitting at the same spot, munching on the spectacular hors d’oeuvres while I people-watched the rich and the famous.

I was on my third plate when Matty came back, heaving out a breath as he dropped down to his seat.

“You seem exhausted,” I commented, noting his tired eyes.

“Yeah, talking is not really my thing. But I have to do it if I want investors.”

“Don’t you guys have enough money to do this on your own?”

“We do. But it won’t be sustainable in the long run.”

“I’m sure this is going to be a big hit, though. It’s something different—good different, and people will appreciate it. Plus, you have good intuition when it comes to music, like you’ve never missed a beat on stage. Who else can do that?” I said excitedly, and from the knot of his brows, I just realized my slip.

“How do you know that? You a fan?” He questioned, his voice grim.

Ah fuck, Matty couldn’t know that I was his fan other than obvious reasons, the main being Matty Evans hated obsessive fans like me. He’d mentioned time and time again in interviews how much he hated when they pried into his daily life, and if they were truly his fans, they would respect his privacy.

I couldn’t say the same for myself. I have internet stalked him for hours, bought his used items off eBay, and dedicated an entire shrine to him in my closet. That was as crazy as it got, right?

“Hmm, not really. I’m not saying I don’t listen to you guys. I listen to all kinds of music. But I wouldn’t play you guys on a loop or anything.”

I definitely did. Especially his isolated beats, on repeat, every single time I gamed or fell asleep.

“Raphy told me,” I rambled, blaming my brother. “What would I know about music, right?”

---