Page 59 of Sycopation
Ray seemed to stop moving. Stop breathing. Hell, Zavier’s blood went cold and hot. Headlining?
“What?” Ray let go of the exec’s hand.
Carl spoke, and his tone made Zavier want to punch him. Too dismissive, too snide. “Gregor Daye has laryngitis, so Five Asylum canceled. Should have canceled the whole thing, but the promotion company seems to think you guys can step up.”
“We agree,” the exec said. “Given your most recent performances and the number of fans coming to see just you, there’s no reason you can’t play the full show yourself.”
“We can.” Ray’s voice was soft, but the certainty behind those two words took Zavier’s breath away.
Carl started to speak, but it was as if Ray didn’t even hear him. His focus was on the suited man with the power tie and slick smile. “We can do this. We’ve got enough material. We’re ready.” He turned and looked at them in turn. “Right?” No doubts at all. It was if a switch had been flipped and Raybelieved.
Zavier could only nod with Dom and Mish.Oh, Ray. Go. Do this. There was the strength and conviction—and control.
There wasn’t even any time for Carl to cut into them, because they were off into a whirlwind of resetting play lists, performing sound checks, doing warm-ups, then plunked right down into pre-concert interviews.
Of course, the reporters tried to dig into Ray. But Zavier damn well wouldn’t let them take this night from Ray.
This journalist was named Samantha Galloway. “How do you feel about Twisted Wishes doing so well after you replaced your drummer? Don’t you think that’s a little unfair?”
Ray’s color changed, paling, the flushing red as embarrassment and ire rose.
Zavier beat him there. “Oh, come on, what kind of question is that? And with me sitting here?”
She paled herself, and turned a little toward him. “I meant no disrespect.”
“Of course you did.”
Silence.
“No one—not Ray, not me, not Domino or Mish—could have predicted how we’d play together. Or that I’d even be available or interested. And asking Ray that—” He shook his head.
She had the decency to look taken aback. Everyone around the table shifted, especially Carl, who sat next to Samantha. Interesting.
Ray’s gaze flicked to his momentarily, then focused on Samantha. He straightened in his chair. “Look, I miss Kevin. I wish he could be here. He made those albums what they were, too.” His gaze shifted to Zavier. “I mean, I love your playing, but...”
“Hey, I know I’m filling shoes.”
Samantha swallowed and glanced at her phone, which was recording the interview. Carl stared down at his hands.
“I’d say you should ask Kevin how he feels, but...” Ray shook his head. “Leave him alone. He’s been through enough.”
After that, the interview shifted away from Kevin and on to other topics like recording a new album and whether Zavier would remain. They answered those honestly, and the whole process felt a damn sight better than it had before. Afterward, once the journalist and Carl had left, Ray focused on him.
A sense of calm flew through Zavier.Yes. There was the trust he craved. The understanding and spark of friendship.
“Oh god.” Ray leaned back in his chair. “Are they ever gonna stop asking about Kevin? It’s not okay talking about him like that.”
“Hon, it’ll be okay.” Mish rubbed his back. “You did fine. Zavier, too.”
He only wanted to take some of the burden off Ray, let him run with this night. Lead them into a show that would win over the label.
Ray rose. “Yeah.” He met Zavier’s gaze. “Thank you. I’m really grateful.”
So was Zavier. He nodded, because it seemed the best response.
A smile flitted across Ray’s face—first one Zavier had seen pre-concert in a while. “Let’s go get dressed.”
They did, and when they took the stage, the whole audience was theirs.
