Page 65 of Wylder & the Rising Rockstar
“I haven’t seen him since soundcheck this afternoon.”
“He better show up or he’s a dead man.” Wylder stomped off to look for Logan. He might not be ready to talk to her, but he could listen, and she’d had just about enough boy drama.
She jerked her coat on and stomped back across the quad to the dorms, giving herself just enough time to get good and angry before she arrived at Killian and Logan’s door.
“Logan!” She swept into the room without knocking. “I don’t care what your problem is, but I’m going on stage soon, and I don’t care which brother shows up to sing with me, but it better be one of you.” She banged on Logan’s bedroom door but got no response.
“Can I help you?” Killian stepped out of his room dressed in dark jeans and a soft gray sweater.
“I don’t suppose you’ve seen any Cooks, have you?” Wylder turned her ire on him.
“Haven’t seen Logan all day.” Killian raised a brow at her. “Aren’t you supposed to be backstage getting ready for this thing?”
“Aww, man, you’re right, I didn’t even think about that.” She glared at him.
“You seem tense, Wylds.”
“Just … if you see Luke or Logan, I want you to tackle them and drag them to the theater, kicking and screaming if you have to. Just get one of them on stage.”
“Uh, I’ll try.” Killian shoved his feet into his boots. “You need to talk about something, Wylds?”
“No.” She slammed the door behind her and made her way back to the theater, hoping Sebastian had better news for her when she returned. The Review was about start. Her performance was the finale, so she had time, but they were cutting it close.
* * *
“We aren’t going to have a finale.” Wylder paced backstage, checking the time on her phone. Again. Barely fifteen minutes to go, and no response from either Logan or Luke.
They were dead to her. And if she could get her hands on them, they’d be dead-dead.
“Um, no.” Meghan glanced at her, waving her clipboard like a weapon. “You’re here, you’re going out there. Half an act is better than no act at all.”
“You’re going to have to drag me out there if Luke doesn’t show up.”
“Don’t think I won’t do it.” Meghan stalked toward one of her stage managers. “You,” she called him over. “Keep an eye on this one, and don’t let her leave.”
“Yes, ma’am.” The boy bobbed his head, taking up residence beside Wylder like it was his job.
“Don’t even think about leaving.” Meghan stalked off to shout orders for the next act to take their place. They were the last ones before Wylder and Luke were supposed to take the stage.
“I think I’m hyperventilating.” Wylder tried to breathe. She’d never really been afraid of the stage. Was this what Logan felt like every time he performed? No wonder he couldn’t bring himself to do it.
“Lean down and take deep breaths,” a familiar voice sounded behind her, and a hand shoved her head down to her knees. “Don’t think about the performance, it’s nothing to get worked up about.”
“Where the heck have you been?” Wylder’s hands curled into fists as she fought to stand up again. “I swear I’m going to kill you.”
“Taking care of some last-minute details.” Luke looked at her like she was overreacting in the extreme. “Hey, you look great. Love the hair.” He busied himself with his guitar.
Wylder took another deep breath. She’d kill him later. Right now she had to get her head on straight. “You look … different.” She studied his outfit. Dark jeans, carefully ripped and frayed in all the right areas. A snug fitting black t-shirt with an open weave she could just barely see through, and a deep red leather jacket with the sleeves pushed up along his forearms.
“What? I’m trying something different.” He started to run a hand through his carefully gelled hair, sticking out in blond spikes all over, and then thought better of it.
“Wylder, Luke, you’re up next,” Meghan called, ushering them to side stage. “Bring this home, guys. And good luck.”
Wylder shook her hands, reaching for her drumsticks tucked into her belt. “Okay, head on straight. Deep breath.” She could do this. She’d done it a million times before, but she was rattled.
“Relax.” Luke winked, lifting his guitar strap over his head. “Just follow my lead.”
As they were announced, Luke stepped onto the stage like he owned it. Wylder followed, shaking off the last of her nerves. She paused beside her drums, waving to the screaming crowd before she took her seat among the shadows. Apparently, whoever was in charge of lighting was still a Luke Cook fan as the spotlights only had eyes for him.
