Contractually Yours

1

Scarlett Vance

The O2 smells like money and old applause.

That's the first thing I notice.

The second is that I have absolutely no idea how my band ended up inside it.

"Alright," Luke says, staring up at the ceiling like it might answer him personally. "How the fuck have we ended up in the O2?"

I don't answer immediately.

Mostly because I'm trying to figure out the same thing.

Morning After Noise are scattered across the empty stage like we've stolen it.

Which, honestly, doesn't feel entirely inaccurate.

Zara is sitting cross-legged on the edge of the platform, tuning her keys with one hand and scrolling her phone with the other. Dylan's behind the kit, lightly tapping out a beat that sounds like he's testing the building's patience. Logan is leaning against a stack of equipment cases, laughing at something none of us are paying attention to.

And Luke—

Luke is smoking.

Of course he is.

I point at him without even turning fully.

"You're going to get us in trouble."

He exhales slowly, completely unbothered. "We're inside a stadium, Scarlett. I think we've already made it."

"That's not how trouble works."

"It kind of is."

"It really isn't."

Zara snorts without looking up. "Let him live. It's dramatic."

"It's a fire hazard," I correct.

Luke lifts the cigarette slightly like it's evidence in his defense. "It's art."

"It's banned indoors."

"It's rock and roll."

"It's a fine," Dylan calls from the drums.

"Thank you," I say immediately.

Luke rolls his eyes and takes another drag anyway.

I narrow mine.

He notices.

He always notices.

"Don't look at me like that," he says.

"I'm not looking at you like anything."

"You are. You're doing the responsible mother thing again."

"I am literally the lead singer of this band."

"Same energy."

Logan laughs so hard he nearly drops his guitar pick. "She's got you there."

"I hate all of you," I mutter.

Zara finally looks up. "No you don't."

I open my mouth.

Close it again.

Because she's right.

Unfortunately.

The stage feels too big for five people who still don't entirely understand how we got here.

Morning After Noise started in basements that smelled like damp carpets and cheap coffee. Not stadiums that could swallow entire cities.

Luke flicks ash onto the floor.