The Rich Boy in a Rock Band

Song 12 ♪ Vitamin Ashton (Leading Us Along)

The asshole started to laugh.

My face was burning and I was sure I was going to try. I had no idea how I was going to possibly do this at competitions.

"Oh my God, I am so fucked."

He took enough pity on me to stop cackling like a hyena. "You're breathing wrong and that's why you sound like a banshee."

I gasped.

The mirth in his blue eyes made me feel even hotter. Like I was staring at the Caribbean under the midday sun. Or maybe I was just pissed.

I folded my arms and looked away. "Stop making fun of me. No one's perfect on their first try at something new."

"True, I was pretty shitty the first time I picked up a guitar." He paused. "Or a violin. Or a piano-"

I slowly turned my eyes back to him. "Just how many instruments can you play?"

"A few," he said vaguely, looking out to the traffic. "Let's try again. I promise I won't laugh this time."

I restarted the song on his phone and found the page with the lyrics again. At least it was in English and I wasn't attempting to sing something in Italian or French. I listened to the song on repeat a few times, trying my best to get a vibe for it. Most of the times, without realizing, I made up a story about each song I heard. If I liked the story, I felt compelled to be a part of it by singing it. It was easy to sing a lot of Latin party songs because they were all about having a good time, one way or another. And that was really all I wanted.

This was different. It was homework. I'd never had to force myself to sing. That, and the unfamiliar beats of classical instruments had thrown me for a loop completely.

Ashton could tell when I got burned out because he turned off the radio.

"Okay, what are you feeling right now?" he asked. When I had no reaction he glanced at me. "What?"

"That's honestly one of the weirdest questions I've been asked."

A rest stop came up ahead and he pulled into the exit. My eyebrows went up as he stopped and got out of the car. He walked around it and opened my door.

"Well?"

"What?" I asked him.

"Don't you want to stretch your legs?"

We'd only been on the road for an hour or so and it wasn't like I was dying of cramps, but a little fresh air couldn't hurt. I jumped out of the car and took a deep breath. The sun was high in the sky and so bright that I had to squeeze my eyes shut. It was pretty hot. A perfect day for the beach. Ashton walked over to a bench on the rest stop and climbed on it. I looked around, but we were alone and there was no one else to give us shit.

"Music is a feeling," he said suddenly, spreading his arms wide as he took a deep breath. "And feelings in turn can become music. Why do you think so many songs are about love?"

He dropped his arms and looked back at me. I looked down, realizing I was still in my cleaning maid uniform. A smile came to my face at how strange this weekend had turned.

"Come up here."

I looked up with a question in my eyes and he just motioned me toward the bench. I climbed it with some difficulty, and he grabbed my hand to help me. I brushed myself off and fixed my dress.

"What now?"

I looked ahead of me. A patch of green field was ahead of us until the eye could see. The noise from the highway hit us from behind, at odds with the chirps from birds overhead and the insects that we couldn't see among the grass. And then there was us in the middle.