Killy remained on the sidelines, strumming his guitar simply because he couldn’t stand idly by with his brother singing his heart out.
“My deep devotion never ends
Though the world around us falls
All I need is me and you
You’ll be my all in all
After, always after, forever after always you.”
How fucking drunk had Killian been the night he’d let his brother talk him into co-writing this piece of shit? Love? Really? Who actually believed in those fairy tales?
Trickster fans, apparently. Now they swayed on their feet, holding their cellphones high, their flashlight apps engaged.
“After the world has come and gone
After we’ve lived our lives
We’ll be as one in the afterlife
Our love will still survive
After, always after, forever after always you.”
And that, boys and girls, is why you never do peyote when you haven’t slept in three days.
The song ended, and not a moment too soon. Killy wrapped an arm around Elliot’s shoulders and led him offstage. “Hey, dude, wanna hang with me for a while? Go get pizza or something? Gus says there’s a pretty good bar at the hotel.”
Elliot stopped, craning his neck to catch a glimpse of their bandmates. “No, that’s okay. I think I’ll…”
Ace caught up, but no Rob. Elliot’s face fell. “I think I’ll go back to the hotel. I’m pretty tired.”
Tired of waiting up for a no-account asshole, more likely.
Gus approached in impeccably tailored jeans and button-down shirt, costing hundreds of dollars to look like thrift-store finds. His custom boots likely cost more than Killy’s first car. He caught Killy’s eye, giving a small nod. So, Rob had already found himself a groupie for the night, or maybe more. Probably a fix or two. If the fuckwad really cared, he’d not go out and duplicate the behavior that had taken Killy and Elliot’s mother.
But no, Rob didn’t care about anyone but himself. He’d drag his sorry carcass back to the hotel after sunup, then sleep all day on the bus while Elliot fretted over him.
And probably miss sound check.
Again.
Elliot hadn’t smiled since two months after he’d hooked up with Rob. Oh, if Killian could go back in time, bypass the drummer he’d been impressed with for playing with an up-and-coming band.
A band he’d later discovered kicked the bastard out.
Trickster took in their garbage.
If only Killy could give the refuse back.
Gus and Ace chatted quietly in the limo on the way to the hotel, their manager’s perfectly styled hair brushing Ace’s shoulder. Killy didn’t trust himself to speak, but once the opportunity presented itself, he’d make things perfectly clear with their manager: no moreAfter. Ever. Strike the song from their play list.
Elliot jumped out the moment the limo stopped, charging through the revolving glass door and past a startled concierge to the elevators. Oh, no he didn’t!
Killian ran after him and caught him at the elevator. He kept his voice low. “You know he’s not coming back anytime soon. C’mon. We haven’t hung out in ages.” He pasted on a smile he hoped El saw as genuine.
“I don’t feel like it,” Elliot snapped. “Would you leave me alone?” The elevator doors opened, he stepped on and pushed the close button, shutting the door in Killy’s face.