Page 248 of Silver Sweet
“A what?” He careens forward out of a slouch. “A seven-point-two?”
I slide my arm around him. “No, they ratedSilver Sweeta nine-point-two.”
He leans his weight into me, and I show him the review.9.2is circled in red withInstant Classictyped beneath. Receiving an eight is beyond amazing fromBackbeat Ledger.A nine-point-two is…extraordinary.
Tom is in a daze.
“You going to cry?” I ask him.
“No, dude.” He is really choked up. “It’s just different when someone confirms what you feel about yourself.”
“I know. I feel it too.” My chest swells so much; breathing is more strenuous. I squeeze his waist, and he curves his arm around me, tucking me closer to his side. We share this ridiculously sentimental look.
“Nine-point-two,” Tom grins, but his lips quickly fall. “How are we going to live up to this?”
“Yeah,” I nod, understanding. “Second albums are harder.” Its quality will inherently be based on comparing it to the first. Even if they aren’t meant to be exactly the same. The bar we need to meet is now sky-high. “Are you really going to cut the back pats short, nepo baby?”
His grin reemerges. “Yeah, you’re right. Fuck the pressure. We should be celebrating tonight…” His voice trails off as an argument between Neil and Steffani enters the green room.
Steffi is twenty-four, brown-eyed, and Filipina—guns always blazing and ruler of our apartment. Neil is usually such a teddy bear toward his girlfriend. But they have been in a nonstop fight for the past week over Neil’sinsistencethatthey spend the holidays with his family in Hawaii, while she’d rather they stay in New York with hers.
“Christmas is five months away,” Birdie says, following them into the room. “If you two need a mediator, just make aPowerPoint presentation, and I’ll decide who has the stronger argument.”
“You’re going to chooseNeil,” Steffi argues.
“That hurts my heart.”
“Stay out of it, Birdie,” Neil warns.
“You’re making it all of our business, man. This cannot keep going on. It’s starting to affect every show.”
Neil ignores him to go chase after Steffani, who has marched over to the gourmet spread.
“Relationships in a band,” Birdie muses, approaching me and Tom. “See that cautionary tale?”
“All I see are two people who’ve been together for four years,” Tom says. “That sounds like a success story, dude.”
Birdie blinks, processing what Tom said. “I want to hate you, but I can’t anymore when I know you think I’m hot.”
Tom glares. “Your brother is hotter.”
“Great taste in men.”
Tom turns to me like,Kill your brother for me.
I shoot Birdie a look, but he’s already telling Tom, “I love when you look at Phoenix for an assist. Go jump into his strong, burly arms?—”
“You hear that?” Tom stands up. “It’s theBillboard Hot 100calling for The Carraways.”
“Don’t forget to tell them you go by your full name!” he yells after Tom, who just up and leaves.
I glare at my brother. “Thanks for running off my boyfriend.”
“He’ll come back,” Birdie plops down. “He’s attached to you like duct tape on a leaky faucet.”
“I’m the leaky faucet?” I glower.
He’s laughing under his breath and opening his phone. I shake my head, but I go rigid when he flashes me a video. A compilation of romantic-skewed touches and glimpses between me and Tom onstage.
