From the disappointed looks and confused whispers reverberating around the mess hall, everyone else seems to share Leila’s opinion too. Didn’t they hear the same song I did, see the beauty behind the words, or the vulnerability in their performance? They stripped back layers to show more depth than a cardboard cut-out. If they received this reception from the campers, I understand now why Levi was hesitant to share his lyrics with me.
“I liked it,” Cookie says. “There’s nothing wrong with being different.”
“But different won’t sell,” Leila reminds her.
“You just hate anything without a pumping bass,” Cookie teases. Leila laughs in agreement, and Cookie asks, “What’s your verdict, Ash? You’re usually the Lionheart hater.”
“I thought it was okay,” I confess, downplaying how I’m internally reeling from them performing the lyrics I helped work on. “It was different in a good way.”
“Of course, you would like it.” Leila rolls her eyes. “It’s all deep and angsty like the Basilisks.”
“Puh-lease,” I scoff. “They have nothing on the Basilisks.”
McCallister returns to the stage to introduce the next act. He can’t resist making a snide dig by saying, “Even professionals still have work and development to do.”
Music is about opening your heart. My mom taught me that music comes from the soul, and every song has a piece of you buried within it. The fact people here can’t see what made the Lionhearts song special only reaffirms my place as an outsider.
eighteen
Ash
“Are you still not going to tell me who it is you’re meeting?” Declan asks as we speed to Wilderton. He pushes his sunglasses down. With them, and his faded denim jacket, he looks effortlessly cool. “What about a first name?”
Campers aren’t allowed off-site without permission, but Declan uses his car to help Claudia every few weeks. No one noticed that I slipped into the front seat with the piles of boxes in the truck. Unsurprisingly, Camp Harmony makes more food than it needs to cater for everyone, and Claudia arranges for the extras to be dropped off at a soup kitchen in Wilderton.
“It’s no big deal,” I insist, glancing to check my phone for the hundredth time today and worrying Ripper will change his mind. “I’ll be fine, okay?”
I play with the frayed fringe of my black crop top. Am I making a huge mistake? Aside from hours of research, the Basilisks are strangers, and I know nothing about their lives outside of their work. Meeting your idols is dangerous, and I risk the fictitious figures I’ve built up to superhero levels not living up to my expectations, but I can’t miss a chance to find out.
“How long have you known this guy?” Declan asks.
“It feels like years,” I reply flippantly, choosing to ignore his disapproving tone. Telling him I’ve been cyber stalking Ripper for years isn’t a good idea. “You sound like my dad, Declan. It’s just a date, okay? I’ve got your number. If anything happens, I’ll call.”
“Good.” Declan nods, satisfied enough. “We’re not far from the coffee shop now.”
I opted to give Declan a fake address. Walking a few blocks myself would draw less attention. Ripper texted our real meeting location earlier. They’re working from an underground studio where they have recorded an album in the past. Seeing Ripper again is one thing, but meeting Zed and Venom is making my palms sweat. Would they be happy I’m coming along?
I hum to the radio to calm my nerves, then change the subject, “How is Conor? I haven’t seen him around.”
“He’s moved out of our cabin.” Declan’s hands grip the steering wheel tightly, drawing attention to a fresh cut on his knuckles. “He’s going through some shit.”
“He’s moved out?” My mouth drops. I know he’s cut up about Leila’s reaction to the Tiffany incident, but moving away from his brother rings bigger alarm bells. “Why?”
“We need space from each other,” Declan says, shutting the conversation down. “It’s for the best.”
We continue the drive in silence as we weave through Wilderton’s streets. It’s a small town with an edgy hipster vibe and a rich musical history. Streets are lined with independent coffee shops and bars. Their signs are tired and rundown, but it exudes a certain charm. These quiet roads used to be famous for its venues and once hosted many of the most famous rock bands on the planet.
I point at the sign of the coffee shop I selected at random. “Stopping anywhere around here is fine.”
Declan pulls up and shoots me a half-smile that doesn’t meet his eyes. His mind is somewhere else. Since meeting them, the twins have been easygoing, but whatever is going on with him and Conor is taking its toll on them both.
“Have fun,” he says as I get out and pull my backpack on.
“Thanks for the ride!”
He rolls down the window and cranes his head out as I start walking away. “Are you sure you don’t want me to pick you up later?”
“Don’t worry about it.” I shake my head. I already decided that I’ll take a cab and walk down the secret path like we did after the Basilisks’ gig. “See you later.”