I shook my head, hoping I looked disapproving, but on the inside I felt like I had champagne in my veins. I darted another anxious look at the stage, hoping to catch a glimpse of...what exactly? Was I seriously this excited to see Ewan Boyd mumble into a microphone again?

"Stop frowning at me like that," August slurred, more than a little drunk already even before I showed up to meet her at the Third Wheel.

"I can't believe this is where you chose to spend your 'single and ready to mingle' celebration," I huffed, darting another look at the stage.

"I told you on the phone," she shouted into my ear. "This is the celebratory kickoff of me taking over the world. I did it, C-dawg!" she crowed. "I fucking did it!” She lifted her neon pink drink over her head and let out a triumphant yell crossed with a bloodthirsty war cry before attempting to climb up on her barstool in her skintight leather skirt.

"Holy shit girl, you haven't even told me what's going on yet," I hushed her, pulling her back down again. "Or why we're here to see Twat Yacht again."

"Oh," she blurted with her eyes vaguely unfocused. "I'm making them change their name, don't worry. You won't have to deal with a band called Twat Yacht at Anthem."

I shook my head. "Okay," I said, gently sitting her back down again. "Why don't you start at the very beginning and try not to get ahead of yourself."

She nodded, poured a healthy swig of pinkness into her mouth and then stared me down. "You know I've always wanted to manage a band. You and me babe. We were gonna rock the industry, right?"

"Right," I laughed, remembering our teenaged flights of fancy.

"Well," she declared, slamming her drink down on the bar. "It fucking starts tonight. I'm their manager, C. They said yes."

"Who said yes?" I asked, still baffled. The crowd was getting louder as the lights in the bar dimmed. I felt a tingle go up the back of my neck and shivered violently.

August was watching, clapping her hands and pointing. "They said yes!" she shouted over the deafening shrieks of the standing room only crowd. "Fucking them!" she shouted, gesturing to the stage.

I turned slowly, feeling the strangest sort of magnetic pull, like my limbs were no longer under my brain's control. I blinked and saw that Ewan was walking on to the sound of wild applause. The whole place fucking erupted and I felt my heart leap up as if it wanted to crawl out of my throat and across the floor to be with him.

He bent to the mic. "Thank you," he murmured in that lilting brogue of his, and the way his eyes scanned the crowd, I swore he was looking for me way back here. I could see him, straight through a gap in the crowd that led me right to his spot-lit face, that chiseled jaw and that dimple that looked hand carved by God himself.

And then they launched into the same opener as last night, that same pure wave of sound, but tonight it seemed more...intense? Like they had something to prove today that they weren't reaching for yesterday. I could feel it in the stretch of the music, the energy in their playing. It was fucking infectious, and my body started moving even before my brain had a chance to catch up and process what August had just said.

"Wait!" I shouted, sudden realization chiming in my head like a bell. "Did you just say you're their manager?"

"That's me!" August yelled, eyes shining. Then her face got suddenly serious, a vulnerability she rarely allowed to be seen suddenly grabbing hold of her. "You know I can do it, right Celia? I'm good at this. I did it all for Sinister Affinity..."

I clutched her hand. "And look how high you took them," I said, swallowing back my apprehension and supporting my friend. "Much higher than they could get themselves. Fuck, much higher than they even deserved."

"Fuck yeah I did," she grinned. "And I'm about to take these guys even higher. I'm gonna get them a record deal tonight."

"You are?" I shrieked. She stared at me, her eyes suddenly not so unfocused. I narrowed my eyes. "And how," I asked, slowly, deliberately, "are you going to do that?"

"Come on, C," she said, gesturing towards the stage. "Fucking listen to them!"

As if I hadn't been doing that all along. Their music was worming its way into my body, rearranging my cell structure and making my blood flow in the opposite direction. They were getting under my skin in the most literal sense of the word, each fine hair on my arms raised up in goosebumps, vibrating to the pulse of Niall's bass.

"They're pros," August said. "And they're gonna get snapped up again by somebody, fast. Why not you?"

"Are you saying this as their manager, or as my friend?" I asked. My resistance was withering and it was making me feel cornered.

"I'm saying this as a person with eyeballs, C," she crowed. "These guys are stars and the best part is they don't fucking know it yet. We're getting in on the ground floor, you and me baby. Just like we always said we would!" She let out a whoop, grabbing me by the arms and shaking me so my teeth rattled. "Say yes!" she shouted. "Or I swear to god, Celia, I will call your father right now and tell him you want a transfer to the uptown offices!" Her eyes gleamed devilishly as she took in my horror. "You know you need this win..."

"Fine!" I shouted, throwing up my hands. "Okay! I'll sign them!"

"Yes!" August whooped, then grabbed me by the wrist and started dragging me through the crowd.

"Wait, where are we going?" I shouted.

"To the guys!" she yelled over her shoulder, hauling me through the crowd with one arm outstretched like a football quarterback. "I want to tell them their new manager got them a record deal already!"

"Wait!" I shrieked. "I have conditions!"

"Fine! Tell it to them!"

"Wait!" I ground to a halt and yanked my arm back. I was panting and breathless. Yanking a hair elastic off my wrist, I tried to pull my hair back into a pony tail while all around me the audience jostled and swayed to the music. "How do I look?" I panted to August. "Is my eye makeup okay?"

Her grin was all-knowing. "Why? You want to look good for Ewan?"

"No!" I yelped, smacking her in the arm with more force than was necessary. The anxious energy suddenly pulsing through my body made me far stronger than I was used to. "Sorry," I said as she rubbed her arm. "I'm just... No, I'm not trying to look good for him," I shouted even as I was running my fingers under my eyes to check for any wayward streaks of black liner. "It's my first appearance as a label rep," I lied smoothly. "I want to look professional."

"Ewan won't give a shit about your professionalism," August observed. "He's only interested in whether he can stare at your tits or not."

"What, seriously?" I shrieked, in a pretty good imitation of horror. But inside, I squirmed with delight at the idea of Ewan checking me out that way.

She yanked me past a big security guard who looked honestly terrified of her and opened the door to the back hallway. I had a vague memory of being here with Ewan last night, his hands on my upper arms, steadying me as I swayed and slurred. My skin prickled, like the feel of his hands on me had left a mark. I swallowed and followed August into the green room. "They're not even here," I said, pointing out the obvious. "They're still playing."

"I know," August said, walking around, picking up objects and putting them down again.

She was trying to act cool but I could see in her a nervousness that mirrored my own. We had always talked about this day, teaming up like this to bring a band to stardom. We'd been talking about it forever, but now that it was finally happening it seemed to be moving way too fast. "Hey," I said slowly...

"No," August said with an emphatic shake of her head that sent her curls bobbing. "Don't start, CeCe."

"Start what?"

"Second guessing your choice." She turned and looked me full in the eye. "You always do this."

"What do I always do?"

"Say you'll go for something and then back away."

"I'm not backing away," I pouted.

"Good," she said, lifting her gaze to the door. "Because they're coming offstage right now."

For a second, all of my energy had to be focused on staying in this room and not bolting away like a frightened rabbit. All these years I'd been professing my talent, swearing up and down that I knew exactly what it took to make a band a success but one look at Ewan Boyd, standing in front of me shirtless and still sweating from the stage lights and it was like I'd forgotten everything I even wanted in life up to this point.

"CeCe," he said with a surprised grin.

"Hi," I squeaked. He was rubbing a white towel over his torso, and everywhere his hand went, my eyes helplessly followed, tracing circles over that broad chest with the red Celtic lion emblazoned over his left pec and then down over the washboard of his stomach, each rippling ab glistening until he wiped it clean. I had to swallow. Hard.

"So!" I said, wrenching my gaze away from his muscles and back up to his face. But seeing his curious smile did nothing to help me regain my powers of speech. Desperate, I turned to August and tried to use best friend telepathy to beg her to start talking for me.

She grinned, getting the message. "I told you to wow Celia tonight," she spoke up, looking out over the green room. "And apparently you did," she went on, smiling at me and letting the double entendre hang in the air for just a little too long. I glared at her. "Because," she finally said. "She's ready to offer you a contract with Anthem."