Zoey Ackerman stood by the club's sound booth as she scanned the darkened floor for her partner-in-crime and fellow waitress at The Roxy in West Hollywood. Spotting Megan Spencer weaving through the crowd and then preparing to run past with a tray full of beer, Zoey stepped in front of her and forced her to stop.

With her shoulder-length jet black hair, black tights, and a dark floral baby doll dress, Zoey wasn't an imposing person, but she knew Megan didn't want to drop her tray. Megan had prominent cheekbones made more obvious by the tight ponytail that held her blonde hair with red streaks away from her face. She gave Zoey an impatient look as she waited for her to speak.

"There's a spill backstage," Zoey said.

After years of being club rats, one of them decided that working at their favorite hangout was the perfect job. They had both just graduated from high school and needed to work, so why wouldn't they want to work where they spent the bulk of their free time? Besides, Megan needed a job until she figured out what she was doing with her life, and Zoey wanted to save some money before going to college.

"And?" Megan said. "I cleaned up the last one. It's your turn. Besides, those losers look like they're going to spill beer all night long."

"No, I cleaned it the last time. And the time before that."

"I don't think so, Zoey. Rock, paper, scissors?"

They shook their fists and at the count of three, Zoey stuck two fingers out, making scissors. Megan kept her hand balled up into a fist.

"Fuck! Rock beats scissors. You always win," Zoey groaned.

"Try picking something other than scissors next time," Megan said, laughing. Voices echoed from down the hall followed by a loud crash. "I hate when people can't handle their alcohol. Seems to happen here a lot."

"You're talking to someone who can't even handle one drink."

"See, that's why you're perfect for mopping up the mess. You can't handle your alcohol, and neither can they."

Megan rolled a bucket with suspiciously brown water and a mop towards her. Pushing the bucket along the hall, Zoey glanced at the layers of concert posters pasted on the dark walls. Chili Peppers, Jane's Addiction, even Soundgarden. They were the reason she was there, not to mop floors for some wannabes that would never make it.

As her Doc Martens made sticking sounds across the floor, the next band on stage began playing what they called music. Wednesday nights were always the worst. Ever since word got out that some A&R people scouted the local clubs for new talent, their Pay For Play amateur night was mobbed.

Every band within driving distance would try to get one of the five Wednesday night slots. When the manager realized how in demand they were, he started charging the bands to play. Unfortunately, he also put aside any kind of vetting of the bands he was doing before.

Zoey tried to ignore the noise coming from the stage, but something didn't gel. Boom boom. Pausing for a second, she focused on the music and immediately regretted it and tuned them out again.

"Ugh, what a mess! And they're stupid enough to think this is going to get them somewhere," she mumbled to herself.

Boom boom. But there it was again. The something that didn't sound right. The band had their amps and monitors set way too high for the room, but that wasn't it. That was something all these bands did.

She felt it in her chest, like something trying to take over the steady rhythm of her heart. Boom boom. As she pushed the wheeled pail along, she detoured over to the stage entrance and looked out at the crowd. No one seemed to care about this band's poor excuse for music, but she was beginning to get curious.

"Zoey, come on! You know once it gets dry it’s even harder to mop up," Megan said as she walked past.

"I know, I know," she said as she maneuvered the pail back towards the backstage area the Wednesday night bands were allowed to use. "This really wasn't how I expected to spend my last summer before college."

"It was your idea!" Megan said, laughing.

Zoey preferred thinking no one was to blame. It was easier than accepting it was her fault she and Megan were working such shitty summer jobs. As much as she liked to complain about it, deep down Zoey believed she had the summer job of a lifetime. She was surrounded by music and hot men. Okay, maybe not always good music and eye candy on Wednesday nights, but definitely during the rest of the week.

Honestly, sometimes even the not-so-good bands had sexy men in them. She couldn't help it, there was nothing sexier than a man with a guitar. And if he could write songs on top of that, then he was scorching hot.

Entering the backstage area where one of the bands that already played still hung out, Zoey had to blink as her eyes adjusted from the darkness of the hall to the stark white of the fluorescent lights. The room smelled like sweat, cheap beer, and Taco Bell. It’s no wonder one of them puked.

Pushing the pail farther into the dressing room, Zoey glanced at the four pimply-faced guys in plaid flannel shirts sitting on metal folding chairs before spotting the reason she was there with a mop. Slumped in a corner, their fifth member was several shades of green.

“Hey, is he okay?” Zoey asked as she walked over and tapped the guy's leg with the tip of her boot. He didn’t move. “Seriously guys, he’s your buddy. Is he alright?”

“What? Oh Jim? Yeah, he’s cool,” said the guy closest to her. He looked her up and down and ran his hand through his long, stringy brown hair. “What’s your name, sweetheart?”

“Zoey,” she said as she kicked Jim a little harder. Still nothing.

“Well, hey there, Zoey. I’m Joe. I’m the lead singer of Wreck It.”

Zoey rolled her eyes. Every lead singer was the same. They all thought they were perfect and every woman’s dream. She wouldn’t deny that the cockiness most lead singers had was hot, but on this zit-infested no-talent, it reeked of desperation.

“That’s nice, Joe. Nice meeting you,” she said as she began to mop up the mess around the still-passed-out Jim.

“Okay, I can take a hint. I’m sure someone as pretty as you has a boyfriend, right?”

Zoey sighed. Looking over towards Joe and his other band mates, she saw they were all looking at her. Practically staring. She wondered if they ever saw a girl before.

“No, no boyfriend,” Zoey said. “I’m really busy getting ready for college and just don’t have the time.”

It wasn’t a complete lie. She did have a lot she wanted to do this last summer before college, but if the right guy came along, then of course she’d have time for him. The thing was the right guy never came along. For whatever reason, most guys seemed to stay away from her.

“Are you blowing me off?” Joe said, his face scrunching up as if he was confused. “Because seriously, you’re pretty, but you really could lose some weight. I just figured you might want to have a good time.”

And there it was. Zoey recognized that she offended Joe’s enormous, overinflated ego. Pretending it was Joe’s neck, she gripped the mop hard then angrily finished mopping up the mess around Jim. Spinning around, she pushed the bucket towards the entrance of the room. She couldn’t get out of there fast enough.

“Hey Zoey?” Joe said just before she stepped into the dark hallway. “You’d be hot if you lost that fat ass.”

Joe and the rest of his band laughed. Zoey stopped, set the mop in the pail so it wouldn’t fall out, and then eyed each of the young men. Grinding her teeth, she tried convincing herself to just let it be and walk out the door, but there was no way she could let that happen now.

“You know what, Joe? I might have a fat ass, but I can do something about it. No matter what you do, you’ll always be an ass.”

“Ooh, slammed!” she heard one of the other guys say as she left the room.

After returning the mop and bucket back to the janitor’s closet, Zoey recognized a regular in the LA music scene. Cade Summers was the lead singer for an up and coming band, Tan Lines. He was cute with an athletic build and long, shaggy, light brown hair. She had never seen him without sunglasses, which to her was code for how full of himself he really was.

She probably wouldn't have noticed him if it wasn't for where he was standing just outside the backstage entrance. The lights from the stage lit him up enough that he didn't blend into the background. Wearing his usual black leather pants and a black button-down shirt hanging loose, she wondered how long he had been hiding before she noticed him.

As she approached to say hi, the band on stage began their next set. Boom boom. There it was again. But she refused to listen. She knew the band was bad.

"There's my girl," Cade said as he looked at her then back towards the stage. "I was wondering if my brown-eyed muse was here tonight.”

“Ha! Muse. Yeah right. I wish you guys wouldn’t call me that,” Zoey said. “You’re going to give the new bands the wrong idea.”

Cade always flirted with her, but she never thought anything of it. He was the lead singer of a band, he flirted with everyone.

“It’s true though. You’ve got something. Why do you think I keep coming back? I guess you don’t realize it, but there’s a few of us bands that keep coming back here because of you, not because of what we think this place offers.”

“You’re insane, you know that?”

“I’ll show you. Step closer. You gotta hear this,” he said.

“Seriously, no,” Zoey said with her hands up as she shook her head. “I’ve heard enough of this band already tonight.”

“I’m disappointed, Zoey. You’re not paying enough attention. Just listen.”

Boom boom! The sound started from within her and then spread to her fingertips as it vibrated her entire body. She couldn’t ignore it anymore. If Cade was pointing out the music, then she must be missing something.

Slowly, she let out a long breath and relaxed as she tuned in. The music was even worse than she imagined. But there was something. Boom boom. And that was when she realized it. She looked up at Cade and smiled.

“You’re hearing it now, aren’t you?” he asked.

“The drummer. Is he really playing that?”

Cade nodded. Zoey couldn’t believe her ears. The drummer was playing circles around his bandmates on stage. He was completely showing off by playing a complicated jazz groove, then adding in extra fills on top of that. Every so often he’d hit the double bass pedal, something she had never heard during Pay For Play, and the boom boom would fill the air. Even with all of this showboating, he kept perfect time.

“This guy is the real deal, Zoey,” Cade said. “His name is Jude Morrison. I’ve been trying to get him to join my band for a few weeks now, but he's faithful to his band. He says they moved out here together, they’ll make it big together.” Cade shook his head. “Idiot.”

“Don’t you already have a drummer?” Zoey asked.

“Not like him. No one has a drummer like him. You have no idea how in demand he is, but he won't hear it.”

Zoey needed to get a closer look. Where had she been all this time that a truly talented guy was able to show up and she didn’t even know about it? That just wasn’t like her, she knew all the bands and everything going on with them. Stepping closer, she realized Cade had the perfect line of sight to watch him play, so she stepped in front of the tall man.

As she looked at the drum throne, it hit her that she was in the presence of a future Rock God. His shoulder-length brown hair swayed with each hit of his drumsticks. Wearing a pair of shorts and a sleeveless t-shirt, she watched his glistening muscles work. He had a gift of making his drums sing and become much more than just a timekeeping device. And it didn't hurt that he was nice to look at. Very nice to look at. How did she miss him?

As the song wound down, the crowd gave their obligatory applause and the stage lights went on. Zoey watched as Jude started unpacking his cymbals from the house kit.

"Wish me luck, I’m going to make him an offer he can't refuse," Cade said as he stepped around Zoey and walked towards the drummer.

She was glued to the spot. Unable to take her eyes off Jude or even walk away, she watched as Cade spoke and Jude shook his head. She wondered if Jude knew the opportunity he was passing up. He had to know how bad his band was.

"Daaammn!" Megan said as she leaned in to get a better look at Jude. "That's a hottie and a half! And you know what they say about drummers, right?"

"They can keep it up all night long," Zoey said, giggling. "Who came up with that?"

"Probably a very satisfied groupie," Megan said, grinning. "I'd be willing to test that theory out with him. Unless you've already got your eye on him?"

Without realizing it, still unable to take her eyes off him, Zoey nodded. She didn't know if anything would ever happen between the two of them, but if she saw him with Megan, she knew it would kill her.

"I've got dibs," Zoey said as she watched a petite brunette climb on stage and head straight towards Jude.