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another, I could see someone familiar talking to Everett on stage. He had the same profile and wardrobe choices—the only difference was his hair. It was up in a man-bun, messy, yet well contained. Ben was next to me at the snack table, piling food onto his plate, when I nudged him.
    “You can’t have my food,” he said instantly. I smacked his arm and nodded toward the stage.
    “Who is the kid with the man-bun talking to Everett?” I asked, and he nearly snorted.
    “That’s our summer intern. He goes by Splinter. I can’t remember his actual name.” My heart started pounding in my chest.
    “What’s his last name? Do you know?”
    “Nightingale,” Ben said, and I had to fight the urge to pass out cold. “Why? Do you know him or something? I know you two went to Rosewood together, but—”
    “Yeah, I know him.”
    The way Everett was talking with Splinter, I knew they were getting along.
    “Do you not like him or something? Is he secretly an ass? Does he have weird fetishes?”
    “No, it’s not that. It’s just—” I looked to the stage again, and this time, they were both looking at me. I could tell I was the subject of conversation, and it didn’t help that they were both pointing toward me. I finally gave in to my weak knees and foggy mind and fell to the ground. Everything around me faded to black.
     
    ***
     
    I gradually came to on a velvety soft couch in what appeared to be the green room, and I had bottles of water, juice, and a plate of cookies near my face when I woke up.
    “You passed out. The medic said it’s a lack of food and a boatload of stress. What do medics know, right?”
    I recognized the voice, and when my vision cleared, I looked toward the voice, and there he was: Splinter Nightingale.
    “What are you doing here?” I asked him.
    “I’m here because I got a cool summer job. What are you doing here?” He held a cookie in front of my face, and since it was an Oreo, I took it eagerly.
    “I’m the band leader’s sister.”
    “I know.” He smirked. “I just wanted to see if you would come up with some lame excuse.”
    “Since when do I ever have lame responses?”
    He patted his knees and stood. “I was told to watch you until you wake up, and you’re awake. I guess my job is done here.” He dusted off his knees and looked to me again. “Oh, and we’ll be working together throughout the summer, so I hope you can put any high school-ish feelings behind you.”
    I grabbed his wrist; it was warm and bigger than I had realized. “Wait, I have something I need to say.”
    He looked at me questioningly.
    “You look ridiculous with a man-bun.”
    He snatched his wrist out of my grip. “I guess the whole ‘we’re not in high school anymore’ doesn’t apply to you, Bea,” he said and walked out.
    As soon as he left, a medic came in, and I was given the all-clear. With a plate full of food and a bottle of juice in my hand, I went back out to the practice arena. It was darkened and the light show, except the pyrotechnics, was on full blast.
    I was in such pure awe at my brother’s performance and stage presence that I didn’t realize that I had been sitting next to Splinter. We watched them for a while, clapping in delight at how good they were. There was awkward silence between changes, but Splinter finally spoke up.
    “They’re really good.”
    I glanced at him for a brief moment then looked back to my brother with a smile. “I know.”
    I sensed Splinter staring at me, and when I turned to look at him, I saw a facial expression I had never seen on him before: disappointment. He opened his mouth to speak, thought better of it, then stood up and leaned down to whisper into my ear.
    “That could be you.”
    He slowly moved away from me and walked to the other side of the room. I know I had some musical talent in me. It had to be genetic. I could write decent songs, play piano, and strum a guitar. I was okay on drums and bass, and I even had a decent-sounding