The Sound of Us (Radio Hearts, #1) by Ashley Poston Read Online (FREE)
Read The Sound of Us (Radio Hearts #1) by Ashley Poston online free here.
The only thing I hate more than Saturday night shifts at the bar are dentist appointments, and you have to be a sadist to like those. When I’m working them without the manager, my mom, it’s worse, but she’s been MIA every weekend since the wedding.
I squat down behind the speakers onstage, gathering up the plethora of beer bottles tonight’s band stashed there, and dump them into the trashcan beside the stage. The sound guy whistles Queen’s “Killer Queen” as he cheerfully flicks off the soundboard and drains the last of his strawberry mojito. I wish he’d choke on an ice cube.
“Mike three was hot again tonight, Danny,” I tell him, wiping my hands on my jeans. One of the bottles was sticky. Gross. “Rock Your Mouth ruined another Slipknot cover.”
“I can only do so much with this equipment, sweetie,” Danny retorts. “And they just sucked.”
“It’s Junie, and they would’ve sucked less if you did your job instead of texting.” I hop off the stage and begin collecting the empty bottles scattered across the bar, and tossing them into the trashcan. “I mean, they made me want to slipknot a noose and hang them from the rafters with it. And I usually never have a problem with Slipknot.”
Danny spits through the gap in his front teeth. I inwardly cringe. He says it’s a nervous habit, but I think he does it to get on my nerves. “Hey, sweetie, leave it to the professionals. Danny’s got the big-boy sound stuff under control.”
“Because you can text and push a slider at the same time, obviously.”
“I’ve been doin’ sound a lot longer than you’ve been alive, sweetie.”
Sweetie, sweetie. I’m not sure what gets on my nerves more, his condescending tone, or the fact that he thinks he calls me by a pet name. Danny is twenty years older than me, so it’s probably the pet name.
Tossing a half-empty Coors Light bottle into the trash can with more force than necessary, the neck pops off as it rings the lip of the steel can, before finally teetering inside. “I’m just trying to help.”
“Sweetie, maybe you should start worryin’ about your own life, and not this shithole.”
For a moment, all I can do is stare. Then something inside of me snaps. In two quick strides, I pick up his backpack and shove it into his chest, knocking him back in surprise. “Get out of my shithole.”
“That’s cute, sweetie.”
“No, if you think this place is a shithole then I want you to fucking leave!”
“Jesus, calm down.”
“Leave. And don’t worry about coming back.”
“You firin’ me?” He sounds genuinely incredulous. “Who else are you gonna hire? I’m sorry sweetie, but you can’t do it.”
“I think I can manage. Hal!” I call over to the bouncer at the bar. “Escort him out, please?”
The bouncer, a burly guy with knuckles the size of pancakes, abandons his beer, and saunters up with the graceful ease of an ox to tower over Danny. Watching the sound guy squirm gives me a tiny, itty-bitty bit of satisfaction. Just enough to make Saturday night bearable.