Persephone [18+] ✔️ Complete

Chapter 10

"So you liked your room?" I raise an eyebrow as Dexter and I climb the front steps of a slim townhouse downtown. It's not the nicest neighborhood, but these guys can obviously take care of themselves.

"Very much, yes." He smiles at me. "Although it's incredibly sad that you have all of those beauties hanging on the wall and you don't play them."

"How do you know I don't play the guitar?" I pout.

"Put that away or I'll bite it off," he warns again, and pokes my lip. I don't even have time to reply before he continues, "and I know you don't play because they're all specifically placed on the wall. They're too shiny. No real guitarist would be able to keep them up there for long."

"Are there guitars all over the room now?" I cock my head.

"No, I put them all back." He grins. "They've got fingerprints all over them now, but at least they got loved a little."

"Have fun nursing your boner all night?"

"Actually shredding out released some of my frustration." His voice has an edge of huskiness to it, and my heart skips a beat.

I try not to openly drool over his tone and change the subject. "So, what kind of band lets chicks into their sacred jam space?"

"You're not a normal chick." He winks at me.

"Well it makes sense, anyway, I know guy bands have this whole 'vibe' going on, but who wants to have a sausage party every night?" I shrug. "One thing could lead to another..." I trail off and waggle my eyebrows.

He opens the door and waves me through with a roll of his eyes. "You have a very active imagination."

"I work from experience, darlin', you wouldn't believe some of the weird shit I've seen." I enter the house and take a look around. "Wow." I blink.

There's a sitting area right at the door, with a few couches and a coffee table strewn with beer bottles and weed paraphernalia. The carpet is black, the walls grey, and at the back is a glass wall showcasing the jam area.

To my left is a little booth with a glass window, which I assume would be for recording purposes. I glance in to see a massive mixer and a set of headphones.

A house turned recording studio. Sweet, sweet deal!

"Ah, there's our girl." A semi-familiar voice says and the guy I recognize as the lead singer steps into the room through a sliding door at the opposite wall to where we're standing.

Heat creeps up my cheeks. I'm not sure why I'm nervous. Maybe because I'm afraid these guys will want to slaughter me for getting their lead guitarist thrown in jail. I've never really cared what people thought of me... but that's kind of a biggie. These guys are like Dexter's brothers... if they hate me, it won't be long before he does too.

And—for some reason—I care about that?

Fuck, I hate being a girl sometimes.

"Seph." I extend my hand and he shakes it with a warm smile.

"Rage," he replies, and I raise an eyebrow.

"Don't bother asking what his real name is, none of us even know." Dexter speaks up from behind me and moves forward to give his singer a hug. An exceptionally manly hug, but a hug nonetheless.

"Fuck we thought you were screwed, dude." Rage laughs. "Wouldn't have been easy jamming through steel bars." He claps a hand on Dexter's shoulder and I smile. These guys seem tight.

"Heeey, jailbird." The guys all start pouring in from the balcony, and I try to remember who is who.

They all greet Dexter, and then I notice a sweet-looking girl slip in through the door and glance at me with massive emerald eyes. She runs up and jumps into my arms with a squeal.