"Dude, you're snoring so loud."

I roll over after sustaining an unwelcome morning jab into my lower back. While rubbing the sensitive spot, I glare at Seira to no avail since her eyes are closed as she tries to fall back asleep.

"You could've just asked me to leave," I grumble, swinging my legs over the bed. My entire body aches—courtesy of spending most of the night sandwiched between Seira fighting monsters in her sleep and the wall.

Seira peeks at me before rolling over. "I thought the kick would suffice."

"You bitch." Heeding her unspoken warning for more attacks if I stay, I make a beeline for the door. "If you're not up by the time Marty gets here, I'm coming back with a bucket of water."

I'm quite vocal on social media about how I hate false narratives spun about me and my friend group. It comes with the territory, but it doesn't make it any easier, nor does it justify the actions of those who line their wallets and empty morals with the crumbs of our personal lives. If there was a way for me to enjoy this career I've had the privilege to make out of my greatest passion in life, I would take it, but, unfortunately, it doesn't seem to exist.

Having thousands of people question my relationship with Jun is one of the more frustrating facets of fame. Most of the time, it's easy to scroll right past people who insist on sharing every intrusive desire with the real-life people they think it's okay to ship. Other times, all it takes is one tweet to send me into a spiral where I'm left feeling uncomfortable with the person who I'm closest to in life.

He peeks back at me after I slide one of the barstools out. Instead of speaking, I drop my head down onto the counter. Jun chuckles before closing the refrigerator door, taking with him a container of apple juice.

"We're one party away from Marty firing us and going back home," Jun jokes before sliding a Disneyland Tokyo mug filled with apple juice over to me.

I pick at the chipping paint on the mug from when Seira put it in the dishwasher. "We make him too much money."

"Where did you disappear to last night?" Jun leans his elbows on the counter.

"Where do you think?" I don't pretend like my getaways go unnoticed. "I don't know why I agree to go to any of them. I hate it."

"I think you secretly enjoy them more than you let on." Jun's eyes shine with a glint of mischief. "Didn't Bash stop by?"

"Nothing gets past you, does it?"

"I think he wants to be your friend."

"And I think he uses me because I'm the only one who can handle his company. We don't even talk that much. You'd think he'd find someone better to waste time with."

"And I don't think Brendon Ellis has a problem finding people who are willing to keep him company."

"Unfortunately, neither does Lauren. Did you catch up with Maver last night?"

Heat rises to his cheeks and he has to look away before he paints the entirety of LA pink.

"I'm not gonna say I told you so—"

"Then don't," he interrupts.

No Lauren and Maver talk in the morning.

Noted.

"Truce." I hold my hands up. "I would like more juice, though. Please."

He grunts and holds his hand out. While he's grabbing the container out of the fridge again, he continues. "What do you think Marty wants to talk about?"

I might be closer to Marty than the rest of the band and therefore have news accidentally mentioned earlier to me, but when it comes to the bigger stuff, Marty is good about keeping his mouth shut.

"If I had to guess, it's probably about a certain streaming deal."

Jun closes the door and hands the mug back to me. "I didn't think that would be an actual thing."

I didn't think so either, but after all the hype the idea has gotten online, it has to be discussed at some point. "Don't expect Marty to turn down an opportunity like that."

"But how do you feel about it?" Jun peeks up at me, curious. "You think the other three would want to do it?"

I rotate the cup in my hands, watching as Mickey spins around like he's on that annoying teacup ride. "Seira will probably be down. Rami will be indifferent leaning on cautious. Lauren....depends on what they want to put in it. Having a film crew around for any extended amount of time doesn't seem like her idea of the best time."

"Considering she's in bed with one of the biggest attention whores in Hollywood, that's surprising," Jun spits out.

I knock my cup against his. "Now who's the one bringing them up?"

I down the rest of my apple juice and walk around the kitchen island. Opening up the refrigerator, I find a mostly empty abyss of discarded half-eaten leftovers and condiments.

"We somehow have a dozen eggs." I turn to Jun with a dead look in my eyes. "That's only enough for Marty."

Jun pulls out his phone. "I'm telling Marty to pick up something on his way here."

While he waits for a reply, I hold myself over on some Japanese rice crackers I find buried in the back of the pantry just as Rami walks into the kitchen. His curls are wrangled together into a bun on the top of his head while he gives me a run for my money for who can have the darkest undereye bags.

"We only have eggs and ketchup so we're asking Marty to grab us food," I inform him.

"Great." He rests his head on the counter. We're not morning people like Jun. "Can you remind him that cow milk is not vegan so please don't put it in my coffee?"

"Aye aye captain." Jun places his phone down while I'm left staring sadly at my empty wrapper. "He'll be here in twenty minutes. Who's going to get the other girls?"

Rami looks like he's about to pass out any second. Since I at least ate something, I dust my hands off and hop down from the counter. "Let me get the bucket ready."

...

Marty drops two bags onto the counter along with a drink holder with a coffee for each of us (except for Seira who prefers hot tea).

"Hungover, no surprise there," he says.

"At least we're consistent," Jun replies.

Marty briefly shoots him a pointed look before returning to his tablet. "You could be worse, I guess."

"Yeah. I could be a protein shake junkie."

Our manager—not uncle at this moment; he knows when to make a distinction between the two—places his tablet down and deadpans another look at Jun who steps aside so he can place me between the two of them. Smart.

Jun waves his fingers in the air. "Carry on, my friend."

Deciding it's too early for him to deal with our shit, Marty picks the tablet back up and finds what he's looking for. "I'm sure you've all seen talk about the possible Netflix deal."

Lauren looks mildly confused, which isn't surprising since she got home the latest last night after spending time with Maver. If the orgasms he gives her are as brain-scrambling as she claims they are (far more times than I care to know), then she's not the most present participant at this table.

"Why does no one tell me shit?" Seira accuses while looking around the table at everyone else who isn't surprised by this announcement. "What Netflix deal? For what?"

Rami places his hand on her shoulder. "It's honestly 'cause you don't know how to keep your mouth shut." When he retracts his hand after she shakes it off her, he adds, "It's been all over Twitter. I'm surprised you didn't notice it."

Without a second to waste, Seira jumps onto her phone and dedicates half her attention to social media, our manager's worst nightmare. Given the circumstances and his lack of will to deal with us this morning, he doesn't scold her.

        "I hardly go on that thing anymore."

        "It's still just a discussion at this point," Marty interjects, "but the idea was to have a short limited series about the band going on tour next year. If everything goes according to plan."

As the oldest member and our de facto leader, Rami takes the lead in conversations like this. "What's the angle? Not to knock all of the success we've had, but don't they tend to do concert series for all the...bigger names?"

Marty's eyes roam over all of us. "Whether you realize it or not, you're all big names now. Netflix wouldn't have approached us if you weren't." He hands the tablet to his right. "It would be twelve episodes or so, depending on how much material they have to work with. The idea is to focus on what it's like to go on tour, but since you're working on the next album, that could be considered for part of it."

Standing next to me, Jun runs his fingers through his hair. When he looks up at us, his eyes are wide with childlike wonder. It reminds me of when we were in fourth grade and he was picked as student-of-the-year, walking up to the stage to collect his prize.

"Sorry it's just hitting me right now how wild this is," he says with disbelief. "We could have an entire Netflix show about us? Us?"

Lauren finds her footing as she passes along the tablet; Rami remains calm and level-headed; Seira picks up on Jun's excitement. The words come pouring out of her at a million miles per hour, and I try my best to anchor the guy next to me. I feel his hand wrap around mine and the erratic pulse at his wrist begins to steady—slowly but surely.

"I know. It feels different talking about it with Marty here." My voice is low enough that the rest of the group keeps its attention on whirlwind Seira. "Might be cool though."

Marty claps his hands together. "As I said, it's very early stages so there's a lot to consider and a lot of time to do it. Don't think you have to jump to anything just yet. They've sent some proposals over so I'll forward it to all of your emails—yes, Jun, emails are still a thing—and you can look it over. We'll go from there." He takes the tablet back from Rami. "Nobody needs to be told that having a deal with Netflix would be, well, a big deal. But your first and foremost priority is finishing this album and preparing for the tour. And if you feel like having a film crew with us will be distracting, we can reconsider or specify conditions. While I think this is a great opportunity, I think it's likely we can also put things on hold if we need to without cutting ties before they're even strung in place."

He pauses to look over all of us once again and Rami is the first one to nod. "That makes sense. We'll look it over and let you know how we feel."

Marty tucks the tablet back under his arm. "That wasn't so bad now, was it?"

"I still think it could have waited for a few hours," I tease.

He doesn't even spare me a glance as he stands like a mountain trying to defy the sea. "I got up at three this morning just to work out."

I look across the island at Seira. "Were we even in bed by then?"

"I think that's about when we decided to drink the last of the watermelon soju."

Marty waves us off, mumbling something about if we were his kids.

As soon as Marty is out the door, I start toward my bedroom so I can take a bath. The quick shower I took as soon as we got home last night didn't suffice in getting off all the gross, icky feelings from the party, and after performing for almost two hours last night, I could use some bubbly (of the alcoholic and self-care variety).

Before I make it to the hallway, Rami calls out to me.

"Bash invited us over today," he says.

I laugh. "Thanks but no thanks. My socializing meter has run out of time."

Rami holds up a finger while he digs inside one of his pockets with the other hand. After pulling something out and tossing it in the air, I catch the mystery item—a coin—and glare at him.

"I'm offended you think I'm worth only a penny." I throw it back, watching as it smacks his chest and drops onto the floor with a sharp clink.

"I didn't even get to the good part," Rami teases.

I hold my hands up while retreating a few steps. "Whatever it is, can it at least wait until I get this smell of cigarette smoke out of my hair?"

        "Who were you around that smokes?"

        "Besides almost everyone at that party?" I scoff. "Maver isn't my favorite person on the planet."

"Ok, but how would you rank him alongside Bash?" Rami pulls me back before I can walk away. "I'm messing with you. But Bash and I were talking—"

"I always forget you two are friends."

"—And he invited us to the race in Australia."

It's my turn to stop in my tracks. While the invite is out-of-the-blue on its own accord, the timing is interesting considering Bash also brought up the Australia race last night while we were talking.

"How nice of him," I say before turning around and walking down the hall.

"It'd be fun, you know!" Rami calls out to me. "Most people would be honored to be a guest of Windsor Formula One Racing!"

"I prefer throwing red shells at people, thank you very much!"