“Next up, straight from Brooklyn! Give it up for The Second Initiative!”

It was a freaking rush to hear the people cheering right away. Maybe they were drunk already. They hadn’t fucking heard us yet. But I took advantage, quickly plugged in my guitar, and took a chord, holding it in place to pour a feedback effect out of the speakers and through the crowd. Then I took my spot in front of my mic and my overdrive on the floor, pressed down the pedal as Luiz hit the hi-hat, and Nicky followed suit. As the music exploded, so did the stage. Spotlights lit us up and killed the nerves.

I threw myself into the song, managing to block the outside world like I hadn’t been able to do this morning.

I’m leaving…in the morning.

I don’t…I don’t know where I’m going.

But we’ve got a long way to go.

Anthony Fender

“Why so glum, chum? Spring is fucking finally here. It deserves a good mood.”

I lifted a brow and side-eyed Nicky. God knew I loved the kid with all my heart, but I’d need some goddamn distance soon if he kept this up. It wasn’t spring that made him cheery; it was sweet, sickening love.

“I’m not glum. I’m hungry.” Actually, I was both. But whatever. I just wanted to get home and heat up some of the food Nonna had passed on to me after our last Sunday dinner.

“You’re glum,” Nicky stated.

I ignored him and locked up for the day. My hope that Nicky would take off with the other instructors as soon as the last classes were over had been in vain. Then I remembered that Nicky’s man was picking him up. They were going to a second showing of a condo…or a house, I wasn’t sure. Since this past winter, it felt like they’d ransacked all of Brooklyn for the perfect home.

In my brother’s defense, it was Gideon, his partner, who was the picky one.

Juggling a stack of books and countless folders of sheet music, I took the lead toward the staff parking lot behind the school and reluctantly agreed to go to dinner with Nicky and Gideon on Friday. Nicky had already noticed I’d become withdrawn recently, and there was no need to stoke that fire.

“Can you at least be happy about your upcoming vacation?” Nicky asked, frustrated.

I frowned at him and dug out the keys to my truck. “I am happy about it.”

“You’re hiding it well,” he muttered.

All the work shit I was bringing home with me ended up in the back seat.