Page 196 of Composed
Today is our first official band meeting since we came off tour and left our label. With the album close to completion, there’s so much to do—tracking, mixing, tour dates to think about, album artwork, promo shit.
Tommy’s going spare over the lack of news. Our fans are getting antsy. Socials are blowing up, fan mail is coming in in droves. Everyone’s watching and waiting to see what we’re doing next. Hence, the meeting. Gotta throw the old man a bone every now and then.
“Where are you at with the album?” Carter asks.
I roll my lips and click my tongue. “A couple more weeks and I’ll reckon we’ll be done.”
“Shit, you two are speedy.”
I smirk. “Been feeling inspired.”
“I’ll fucking bet,” Saint mumbles. “Inspired by pus—”
I clap my hand over his mouth. “Enough out of you, thanks.”
Axel chuckles as he hands me a steaming mug of black coffee. “I think we just drop a surprise tour.”
“You just want to be on the road,” Carter deadpans.
“Duh.” Axel smirks. “I’m fucking ready. I want to be in that booth, and hitting the stadiums as soon as you’re done. Drop the album and tour dates all on the same day.”
Carter grunts, tilting his head. “Break the fucking internet while we’re at it.”
“Exactly.” Axel’s grin widens and he waggles his brow. “Be like Beyonce.”
“I know you didn’t just compare us to Queen B.” Saint scoffs.
Axel shuffles between the couch and the coffee table, shaking his arse the whole time.
I tip my head back on the leather and scrub a hand down my face.
If only the world could see us now.
“It’s not a bad idea though,” Carter says, tapping a staccato rhythm. “I don’t know if I can be arsed with all the pre-drop stuff. Interviews, social media shit. That was the worst part about being under Ricochet. I felt like a fucking show pony.”
“Hey, Daddy agrees.” Axel towers over the back of the couch. “I’ll speak to Ash. She might be open to doing some artwork for us for the cover.”
Carter stops drumming. “Your sister?”
“Yeah, she’s not long graduated with her masters.”
“I thought you said she had a fashion degree?” Carter’s gaze narrow. “How the fuck does that help with album art?”
Axel rolls his eyes and launches a cushion at Carter’s head. “Didn’t realise people could only have one hobby.”
“She draws?” I tilt my head.
There’s not much I know about Ashley. With ten years between her and Axel, she was just a kid when we got signed and left Chesterton. He didn’t want her around the lifestyle at thirteen so instead of taking over her guardianship, he left her with their aunt and uncle.
Pretty sure he regrets not bringing her along now though. They’re not exactly close and I know he doesn’t like that fact.
“Yeah.” Axel tugs his phone out, thumbs over the screen, and hands it off to me.
I swipe through the gallery, bobbing my head.
The art is gritty, but polished. Sharp lines, smudged edges. There’s something lyrical about it. I pause on a black-and-white sketch of a woman. Head tipped back, hair flowing. Rain streaks around her, neon splatters bleeding through the page.
“Shit. This is good,” I say.
