7. Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven

Toby

" H e's still passed out—"

I'm not.

I haven't been for some time. I think I did for a moment, but the voices surrounding me don't give a shit about anyone sleeping in the vicinity.

Rude bastards.

"—c'mon, Leo. There's another way. Someone else. I can't even walk away from him to pack his bag."

"No, Anna. There isn't."

From my position—which happens to be face down on the couch, though I'm not sure whose furniture I'm crashed out on—I can hear every word uttered about me and my condition. My issues. My problems . My anger—which I keep contained, thank you very much—and, for some reason, my inability to be in the public.

All thanks to Ms. Straitlaced Prune and her perfectly plain skirt, with her slicked back hair in that same damn tight-ass bun she always has holding her damn forehead back.

Does she ever let the shit down?

The woman has no problem calling shit out and making even Leo pause on occasion.

But for some reason, he's more adamant. Steadfast. Unbudging.

I think .

I'd probably know more if my thoughts weren't fuzzy and my face wasn't numb.

Not even sure why we're here and why they keep talking about going somewhere.

Certain that if I squinted hard enough, I might be able to recall why Anna is railing the shit out of Leo, but I'd rather enjoy the buzz that started in the car with a blunt and continued through the bottle of amber I'm still holding onto.

Where are the guys? It's drinking time.

We could make a game outta the number of times Rex says ‘fuck'.

I try to push myself up, but I don't get far because the couch spins beneath me, and I flop face-first into the cushion. Something thuds along the floor beside me, but I pay it no mind.

Damn, that's good shit.

"And how am I supposed to manage that?"

The words pierce my brain and make my tongue feel funny with a retort I don't even try holding back. "I got somethin' you can manage ." My words sound muffled and far away to my ringing ears.

" Ew, " Anna shoots back.

Goal accomplished.

Chuckling, I wedge an arm beneath my ribs and maneuver my upper body until the light penetrates my pupils and drives a nail into the sockets, killing off the levity almost instantly, along with some of my buzz. "Shit, why is it so fucking bright?"

"Leo, I can not . Will not. Find someone else."

I get my arm out from under me and throw it over my eyes. "Am I not pretty enough for you, Ms. Prune?"

"It's prude. Prude," Anna corrects, agitated, her hands flying out as she talks.

I know this because it's what Anna does when she's super mad, which I normally enjoy watching. I can also see portions of her flailing limbs from underneath my arm. "I said what I said."

What's with people correcting me?

Bastards.

Her growling response is all I get back but it still makes me chuckle until Leo chimes in, "Toby, this is serious."

" Sooo serious ," I mock, because I honestly can't remember why it's so important. "So, so serious."

"Fuck, Toby, c'mon. Can you at least try ?"

Why does Leo sound like Mac now?

"No!" Anna answers for me, loudly. Forcefully. "No, he freaking can't . That's the whole problem —"

I sit up from my position, sway for a hot second, and then drop my arm. The lights are still blindingly bright, but I'm sick of hearing about the shit.

Sick of hearing Anna's mouth droning on and on about me and my problems .

I. Don't. Have. Any.

"Leo," I say through the cotton in my mouth, "take me wherever the fuck you want."

"Okay." The man sighs and runs a hand down his tensed face that's covered in an abnormal-for-him amount of scruff. He's still wearing his normal white dress shirt and suspenders and he looks ridiculous to me, but I'd bet my faded Ozzy tee under my leather vest looks just as fucked up to him.

He's put together. Formal. Planned and scheduled.

I'm not.

"Just not with her ."

"Oh, fucking hell," Leo mutters and throws his hands up. "You're both being ridiculous." He paces in a circle that makes me dizzy the longer I watch. "Beyond reasoning." The man's hands go to his hips, his fancy shoes stopping just in front of me. "You're going to the cabin, Toby. And she's going with you."

"No, thank you." Before I shake my head, Leo crouches in front of me, his features set like hard stone, his eyes bloodshot and emotionless.

"You will go. And she will go. Or you both are out of fucking jobs."

His words slap me in the face so hard, I fall back into the couch. "Fuck you, Le. Threats? Seriously?"

His chin lifts in a single nod of confirmation, his face no less harsh than it was before the words left his lips. "Seriously. You, Anna, cabin."

"Le," I growl and pitch forward to grab his fancy shirt in my fist.

My band manager's jaw clenches as he grips my wrist, pressing into the pressure point. My hold loosens and my buzz fades. "Or you're fucking done playing for As Above."