Page 1 of Unfinished Noise

Chapter One

Spencer

Spencer got to The Green Bean Terrace early, which was ridiculous because he hated being early. It gave him too much time to think, and thinking was exactly what he didn’t want to do right now. The patio was already buzzing—clinking mugs, the hiss of the espresso machine drifting through the open doors, the smell of roasted beans mixing with the faint sweetness of the pastries inside. Beverly Hills sunshine filtered through the green umbrellas, painting everything in soft, leafy shadows.

He ordered two coffees and two bagels with cream cheese, mostly out of habit. Nathan always forgot to eat unless someone shoved food at him. Spencer carried the tray outside, boots thudding against the stone floor, and dropped into their usual table near the railing.

He barely had time to take a sip before Nathan jogged up, hair loose and wild around his shoulders, looking like he’d rolled out of bed and straight into a shampoo commercial.

“Hey, man,” Nathan said, sliding into the chair. “You look like you slept in a cactus.”

Spencer snorted. “We’re still unpacking. Cut me some slack.”

“You moved back to Beverly Hills,” Nathan said, grabbing his coffee. “You’re not exactly suffering.”

Spencer didn’t argue. He raised an eyebrow. “Alright. You said it was important. Talk.”

Nathan took a long sip, winced at the heat, then set the cup down like he was about to confess something awful. “Okay. So… we’ve got a problem.”

Of course they did. Spencer leaned back, bracing. “Hit me.”

“The new co‑guitarist and keyboardist bailed.”

Spencer blinked. “Bailed? Before we even started?”

“Yeah. Cold feet. Better offer. Who knows?” Nathan rubbed the back of his neck. “But that’s not the real problem.”

Spencer’s headache already formed behind his eyes. “Then what is?”

“Rocktoberfest.”

Spencer froze. “What about it?”

“They want Black Shadows. Not the new band. Us. The originals.”

Spencer stared at him. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope. And not only Rocktoberfest. A bunch of places on the way want us too. It’s basically a mini‑tour.”

Spencer’s stomach twisted. He knew exactly where this was going, and he hated it. “No.”

“You didn’t even let me say it.”

“I don’t need you to say it.”

Nathan leaned forward, elbows on the table. “Spence… we need Billy and Farlan back.”

There it was. The punch to the gut he’d been waiting for.

Spencer’s jaw clenched. “No.”

“Come on—”

“No.” The word came out sharper than Spencer intended, but he didn’t bother softening it. “Absolutely not.”

Nathan didn’t flinch. He sat there, fingers drumming lightly on his coffee cup, eyes steady in that way he got when he knew Spencer was about to blow. “Spence—”

“They burned me,” Spencer said, the memory hitting fast and hot, like a bruise someone pressed too hard. “Both of them.”