*warning: baby spoilers for BIG SHOT in this chapter*

I tried my best to be an outstanding employee. Not only was it self-serving to my people-pleasing tendencies, but I genuinely wanted to be successful. It was really my only priority since moving to New York City. How could I engineer my life and my job to become successful?

The problem was, I was beginning to realize that the Sienna that left the city last month was not the Sienna that came back. I wasn't sure what her priorities were. 

I thought serving my time with The Green Inferno would justify all of the time and work I'd put in to get to this point, and upon returning to the city it would all be vilified. My ambitions would be laid at my feet, with a pretty, flower-lined path for me to follow. For some reason, the opposite happened. I came back and felt more lost and confused than I ever had. There was no path. Instead, I stared down into the void...again.

Raf had made it clear he wanted me to stick around, so at the very least, it was self-serving enough being told I was good at what I was doing. That didn't mean I was above being petty - nor using my job to exact said pettiness.

"No way," Devon droned with a bored sigh. "I'm not doing it."

It had only been a few days since our jarring conversation at the coffee shop, but I barely recognized him. It was as if he'd reverted back to the dark, brooding stranger I'd first met at Sweet & Vicious only two months ago (which felt like a lifetime ago at this point). Nothing like the vulnerable, delicate creature I knew he really was.

We'd all met for happy hour at a popular lower east side spot called Black Crescent to discuss the band's upcoming schedule, and there he was, drinking his god damn New York Sour and scowling. It was a dizzying deja-vu.

"Okay look," I squared on him, clutching my phone tightly in my hands as if I didn't trust myself not to throw it at his head. "A few days ago, I heard through the PR grapevine that one of Maddox Madsen's musical guests for this week had canceled, and they hadn't found a replacement yet. I reached out to Maddox's team, and they got back to me almost immediately and expressed interest in booking you guys. It was time sensitive - what was I going to do, say no to an appearance on everyone's new favorite late night show?" 

"Yes," he answered flatly.

I groaned and tried to recenter myself. I realized this was not deja-vu. This New York City bar interaction was much worse than our first one, because once you'd seen someone the way we'd seen each other, you can't unsee them. You can't unsee the small, nervous mannerisms they had and the faded constellations of freckles under their eyes that you could only make out after you'd been far too close to them. Even though we looked like two strangers at the bar to any other person, all our frustrations on wishing we could unsee it all simmered underneath. 

A group of college-aged-looking girls came obnoxiously giggling through the front door and straight to the drink-stained mahogany bar, forcing Devon closer to me. Black Crescent was already a fairly small place, now suddenly near claustrophobic with the addition of six other bodies. 

Devon inadvertently reached for my arm to steady us, and I recoiled with a scowl. I couldn't unfeel him either.

"Everyone else has already agreed." I folded my arms over my chest. "You're the only one who's giving me a hard time."

"I seem to remember telling you that it's my band."

"I think we can manage just fine without you." Evie squeezed herself between us to put her empty glass down at the bar.

I originally second-guessed telling Evie anything, not just because I knew she was basically Devon's sister, but also because I didn't like feeling like I was making people take sides. But this was post-tour Sienna. She knew Evie was the best person to talk to that truly knew and understood not just the situation, but Devon himself.  

Evie kept her back to Devon, and she gave me a reassuring squeeze after she'd gotten a refill on her vodka soda before walking away. Devon's gaze followed her over back to Gareth and Clark, and something I'd come to recognize as hurt shone like stars in the night sky of his dark eyes.

Like I said, you can't unsee the little things.

Devon and Evie obviously weren't on good terms right now. Pre-tour me would have felt terrible about causing them to fight, but right now, I was just relieved I had someone who didn't make me feel like I was completely losing my mind. God knows every time I looked at Devon I felt like I was.  

"Fine." He finally pulled his gaze back to me, reaching up to trace the tentacles of the kraken tattoo on his throat with his finger. "Fine. Whatever. I'll do it."

Pre-tour me would have been suspicious it was that easy. Post-tour me knew better.

"Okay," I nodded, trying to keep myself collected. "Good."

"Great."

"It will be." I mustered a faint smile, and for a split second, I swore I saw his mouth twitch as he tried to do the same. Then he remembered where we were, and what he had done, and he was back to scowling as he walked away.

⋆ ★

The next day, I took an Uber to meet the band at Maddox Madsen's studio in Times Square. When the Uber got closer, I noticed a big black SUV pulling up to the guest entrance to the studio, where a crowd had gathered waiting for whoever was in that SUV. When the car door opened, out walked tall and handsome Reid Donahue, the star rookie quarterback for the New York Jets - which I only knew because Maddox's assistant had told me who the other guests of the night were. His girlfriend (who once again I only knew because I'd then Googled him), clad in a chic black turtleneck dress and high black boots, walked hand-in-hand with him. She'd clearly mastered how to be a famous person's significant other, graciously smiling and waving at a few of the people in the crowd. A weirdly uncomfortable hint of jealousy rippled through me.

"Here's fine, thank you!" I told the Uber driver, having him stop before the entrance so I could skirt around the crowd that was now leaving because Reid Donahue had gone inside.

I checked in with someone on Maddox's team, who gave me a pass and led me to the dressing room where the band was already situated. I opened the dressing room door just to walk in on Devon slowly combusting.

"I signed up to play a song, not Ring Around the Rose with you." He wrung his tattooed hands in front of him.

Maddox Madsen, donning a midnight black suit and a moonbeam smile, seemed almost amused by Devon's off-putting attitude. He exuded the kind of persuasive charm you expected of a successful late night talk show host - the kind that got people to tell him things even if they walked out on that stage without the intention to do so.

Whether or not that was going to actually work on Devon was yet to be determined. But he'd finally realized I was standing there, and with just one look, everything came rushing back in a flood of feelings. Almost instinctively, I gave him a nod and a faint, reassuring smile.

"Fine," Devon surrendered with a groan. "Fine. But nothing weird. I have standards." 

"Great!" Maddox beamed. "I have to go rendezvous with my other guests for the night, but you can give all the details to Stacy, one of my production managers. She'll make sure you guys are all set and ready to go."

Realizing I was still just standing in the doorway, I sidestepped to let Maddox by, who gave me a knowing smile before leaving and shutting the door behind him.

When I turned my attention back to Devon, it looked like he'd just been punched in the gut. Apparently I wasn't the only one whose insides were churning.

"If you're going to sing more, you should really have some tea," I suggested. "There's a Starbucks across the street."

And I needed to get out of there before the sight of him looking at me the way he did drowned me.

"Not like I have a choice," he grumbled, and Raf came up behind him to put a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"Sounds like a great idea," Raf nodded, giving Devon a conspiratory grin. Raf seemed to be the only person who wasn't actively avoiding Devon like he was radioactive, and Raf knew better than anyone that sometimes the way to wedge Devon out of that place was being annoyingly aggressive about it. "That is so nice of you."

Devon rolled his eyes as Raf gave him a shake. I gave Raf a grateful smile before turning on my heel and speed-walking down the hallway of the studio. Now that it was night, the air felt much colder when I stepped outside, and suddenly I regretted not grabbing my puffer jacket on the way out. I knew I wasn't going to be on television or anything, but that didn't mean I couldn't dress up the way I wanted to (and be extra petty in pink). However, every single thing I wore from my pink sweater to my rhinestone studded jeans suddenly felt like the wrong choice in the early November chill. 

I was blasted with warmth as I walked into Starbucks, perhaps lingering longer than I needed to to get feeling back in my fingers and toes. I grabbed coffees for me, Raf, and Evie (god forbid we gave caffeine to Gareth before a performance, and Clark functioned on spite alone), and honey tea for Devon.

I slowed my pace when I got back to the studio to catch my breath, but it caught in my throat almost immediately. The girl I recognized as Reid Donahue's girlfriend was standing in front of our dressing room door with her back to the hallway. Not that I knew anything about her as a person, but what could she want from us?

She was tall and fit and naturally beautiful in a way I guess I expected a star football player's girlfriend to be, her long black hair shiny and just reaching the small of her back. Even her boots were Louboutins. 

"Need something?"

She jumped and spun around, and suddenly I felt bad - not just because I'd clearly startled her, but she looked a little wayward and amiss. I knew exactly how that felt, so I offered her a kind smile, and she returned it.

"Sorry, Maddox took my boyfriend," she said with a sigh. "And I don't really know what to do with myself right now. I didn't mean to eavesdrop."

I nodded and tried to pretend like I hadn't gone down the Google rabbit hole about her boyfriend (and her) last night. "The football player?"

"Yep." she nodded and offered her hand to me. "I'm Jo."

"Sienna." I quickly realized I was in fact not Googleable, and I fumbled to explain why I was also lingering in the hallway of Maddox Madsen's late night show. "I do social media and stuff for the band."

Jo took a moment to subtly assess me the way I knew people in the metal community had all tour. I didn't exactly blend in with all the monochrome and the leather, but I liked it that way. It seemed like she did too.

"I like your shoes." Jo nodded down to my secondhand Dior slingbacks - also a poor choice given the weather, but anything for the outfit, and getting compliments from other fashionable girls was part of the payoff.

"Oh thanks." I smiled at her, kicking one leg out for effect. "I got them on The RealReal if you can believe it, for like, half the price they normally are."

Jo shifted on those enviable Louboutin boots of hers and arched a curious, well-sculpted eyebrow at me. "Really?"

"Oh yeah." I nodded eagerly. "I've gotten almost all my handbags from there. I mean, designer stuff is meant to last, right? It's like an investment-"

"You done yapping, Polly Pocket?"

Conversations about clothes almost made me forget about the devil lurking behind the door, but there he was, standing over Jo but directing his gaze squarely on me.

I lifted his tea out of the drink tray and shoved it in his hands. "Your tea, your majesty."

I heard Jo snicker, and a self satisfied smirk worked its way onto my lips as Devon rolled his eyes and retreated back into the dressing room with his tea. Like a dog chasing a bird I followed him in, but I quickly stopped in my tracks and spun around, remembering Jo was still there. At the very least, I didn't want to look like some lovestruck schoolgirl to her.

"He's irritable when he's nervous," I blurted out with a forced grin. Because of course, I felt the need to defend Devon.

She smirked. "You don't say."

I wasn't sure why I realized it at that moment, but Jo seemed to be exactly the kind of person I'd hoped to become if I'd just stuck with my pre-tour Sienna priorities. She had the formula for being likable and successful, and even though I envied her, I liked her too. Like in another life, we might have been friends.

I offered her another smile, hoping maybe she felt the same about me. "Anyway...see ya out there?"

"Yeah, definitely." She returned my smile as I backed into our dressing room and shut the door behind me.

At the very least, it looked like Devon had shed his radioactive layer and was sitting on one of the cushy leather couches in the dressing room with Clark, where I faintly heard them going over something about chord progressions. Despite whatever Devon's constant revolving door of reservations were, hearing him impressively yet effortlessly talk about music would never get old. No matter how things were with us, I hoped one day Devon understood just how impressive he could be.

There was a big flat screen TV mounted to the wall of our dressing room, where we could watch Maddox's interview with Reid Donahue live. He was every bit as charming as you'd expect some kind of star football player to be, although with maybe less ego than I expected. He wore a silky black Prada bomber jacket, and I couldn't help but think how good it would look on Devon.

"Okay, I kind of get the hype," Evie said to me as she sipped her coffee. "Hot and not a raging egotistical asshole?"

"His hair is even better in person," I replied, nudging her shoulder. "I Googled him last night, and he's already been on top of like three 'athletes with the best hair' lists."

Sure enough, when he reached up to rake his hand through his licks of chocolate brown hair, it was far more endearing than it had a right to be.

As if my body knew it was him before I even looked, goosebumps crept across my skin and a chill that rivaled the outside air rippled down my spine. "Okay his hair isn't that nice."

Evie scoffed. "Nicer than yours, greaseball."

Devon scowled as he reached up to self-consciously run his fingers through his hair.

The two feuding friends stood on either side of me, but when I glanced over at Evie, she gave me that wicked, conspiring grin I'd come to know all too well. Post-tour Sienna was not above inciting a little bit of jealousy.

I let out a heavy sigh that could have almost been perceived as a swoon. "I saw him and his girlfriend walking into the studio. He's so tall."

Devon snorted. "I'm like, only an inch or two shorter than him."

"Those one or two inches matter." I glanced up at Devon, arching my eyebrows just enough to be sure the implication landed. Despite his stony expression, his cheeks reddened just enough to be noticeable.  

As usual, Gareth intervened, but this time in a hysterically opportune way. I'd have to remember to thank him later.

"Donahue leads the league in pass completion percentage," he nodded, munching on a handful of chips. "As a rookie."

Devon shot him a deadly glare, and I had to clap my hand over my mouth to prevent obnoxious laughter from sputtering out of me. 

Gareth stiffened up. "I mean, ya know, which is...not that impressive anyway."

A loud explosion of cheers from the TV drew everyone's attention back, where Reid had pulled Jo on stage, along with a big brown cardboard box. Unless the largest diamond in the world was in there, it didn't look like he was about to propose. He reached down into the box and pulled out the most beautiful silver puppy I'd ever seen. Jo looked like she was about to cry.

"Oh my god," she squealed as she hugged the puppy into her chest. "He's so cute, is he really ours?"

Reid nodded, grinning that endearing grin he had. "I know you're home alone a lot during the week, so I wanted you to have a companion, and something that reminds you that I'm always with you."

"Aw, that's so sweet," I cooed, putting my hands to my chest. "I love dogs, and I love love."

"And I think I'm getting a stomach ache from all the sweetness," Evie groaned.

I smirked and elbowed Devon. "Tough act to follow."

Devon groaned and rolled his eyes. "I hope no one's getting any ideas, because I'm not getting any of you a puppy."

"Why not?" Gareth moaned and stomped his foot. "We could use a band dog. Like one of those long-haired weiner dogs or something."

"No." Devon flicked the back of Gareth's head. "We can get a band cactus."

"That actually makes so much sense," I shook my head at him. "Since you're so prickly and don't like to be watered."

Everyone but Devon laughed, but the scowl he wore seemed more forced than usual, like he was trying to swallow down a smile. I nudged him in the arm again.

"Lighten up, will you? I know you're nervous, but you really have no reason to be. You're doing the thing that you're better than anyone else at. You'll be great."

I wasn't sure how long Devon's gaze held mine, both of us too proud to make a move forwards or backwards, but as soon as it seemed like he was ready to say something, the door to our dressing room swung open.

"He's ready for you, Devon." Stacy, the production manager, poked her head through the crack in the door, her headset dangling around her neck.

Devon's throat rippled as he swallowed, and without giving myself enough time to second guess it, I quickly reached out and squeezed his hand before he walked away and out the door.

The rest of us huddled in front of the TV, where after a few commercials Maddox returned to his big wooden desk to announce Devon as his next guest.

"Okay so, my next guest also doubles as our musical act for the night, but I wanted to bring him on here for a little round of musical genre challenge, since that is, after all, how his band went viral in the music subset of social media. They've covered N'SYNC, Britney Spears, and all kinds of well-known pop songs in their own metal way. Please welcome lead singer of the Green Inferno, Devon McCall!"

To any casual observer, Devon didn't look nervous at all as he shook Maddox's hand and sat down at the generic armchair all late night talk show hosts had beside their desks. But when he reached up to run his finger down his neck, I felt myself tense.

I mean, I wasn't nervous, but I guess I was nervous for him. I wanted him to be great, at least for his own sake. No matter what happened between us, that feeling wouldn't just evaporate. It was sunk into my skin, like my own form of tattoo.

"So..." Maddox began when the audience cheering subsided. "I'm of the understanding that this is your first live television appearance. You nervous?"

I groaned and pinched the bridge of my nose. Way to rip the band-aid off, Maddox.

Devon forced out a chuckle. "Well...now I am."

But everyone laughed, and I could see Devon's shoulders start to drop. Even though he hadn't wanted any fashion advice for tonight, he wore his usual tight jeans and that knitted collared shirt with the deep green and beige houndstooth pattern that we got from that store in Burlington. It was the one thing I hadn't seen him actually wear yet, but it was my favorite thing out of all the stuff we bought that day. He looked frustratingly great. 

It wasn't that long ago, but so much had changed since then. I almost wish we could have gone back to that, and kept our relationship as almost friends. I wasn't sure if we were ever actually friends. Just casual annoyed colleagues to people who kiss once and then never talk about it again. 

Despite Devon's nerves, Maddox's musical genre challenge game thing that he played was tailored to Devon's skills and strengths. He had Devon press a comically large button, and on the screen, a random combo of a well-known song and a musical genre would be paired off. The first thing he got? Clarity by Zedd, but as a country singer.

"Oh this should be good," Evie sniggered, and Gareth nodded eagerly. Clark had retreated back to the couch, but I could tell he was peeking over the top of his book at the television.

Devon scooted to the edge of his chair as they handed him a microphone. "Okay, I think I can do this one."

The show's band began to play a twangy version of the song's melody, and sure enough, he sounded like he could have been belting out ballads at bars in Nashville. The crowd went nuts. Unsurprising, as usual.

Cause you are the piece of me
I wish I didn't need
Chasing relentlessly
Still fight and I don't know why

"Unbelievable," Gareth grumbled. "He's so good it's annoying."

"Yeah, but he makes the rest of us look good too," Clark chimed in, his head back in his book.

I hadn't even thought about it until now, but it did seem kind of weird to only have Devon on even though the whole band was here. They could have easily participated as a group. I tried to be subtle as I glanced around at Evie, Gareth, and Clark's reactions to Devon's little triumph, but if anyone was bothered, they didn't show it.

I took a few subtle steps back to stand at Raf's side as he watched on, smiling like a proud band dad. A proud real dad. Devon's next song was A Thousand Miles in the style of hair metal, and I forced myself to look away. It was like they picked them on purpose to make him look even better.

"Can I ask you something?" I kept my voice hushed.

"Of course." He nodded but kept his gaze towards the television, and I was almost relieved. I wasn't sure if I would be so willing to ask this if his attention was fully on me. 

"Do you think it's weird he only had Devon on? Instead of like, the whole band? I mean, I know they're all performing afterwards, but shouldn't they all-" 

I stopped the yapping when he finally glanced over at me, but the fact that he didn't seem at all deterred by what I just asked him was what made me regret opening my mouth.

"Do I think it's weird? No." He shook his head, but I didn't have time to breathe a sigh of relief before he continued. "But do I think that maybe it's...indicative of the future of this band? Dunno. Maybe."

"Oh...I see," was all I could manage to get out before Stacy came back to call the whole band out to get ready for their performance.

Raf and I had been directed backstage where we could watch them play after another commercial break, and I tried to not overthink Raf's words. There was literally no reason to. Everything was going great - at least when it came to the band.

As for me and Devon, I'd get over it. I had no choice. 

Devon had begrudgingly agreed to perform Just Pretend, and it was just as good now as it had been that first time they played it.

Playing music was like a drug to Devon. There was something euphoric that broke open inside of him, and it gave him a glowing aura that spread like a galaxy of stars. I knew I couldn't have been the only person that saw it, but I also knew that when he glanced over at me - even for just a split second - I was the only one who ached when he smiled. Getting over it was so much easier said than done.

⋆ ★

i will never NOT love the performance devon/longing look sienna gif, sorry not sorry

obviously if you were a BIG SHOT reader, you know and love jo and reid (and have probs read this bonus chap from jo's POV)

however if you've NOT read BIG SHOT, this doesn't *really* spoil anything in the main storyline, but i would highly recommend checking it out if you are enjoying FEEDBACK. it's completed, and oh btw, it won a WATTY AWARD THIS YEAR! i'm very proud of it, and it showcases something i love just as much as metal music - college football.