“Whatever,” I muttered, tired of talking about the crappy state of my love life.

Jordan came back to the bar, his face pinched and drawn.

“What’s wrong, babe?” Maysie asked, looping her arm around his waist.

“Well, nothing’s wrong, really. Moore just offered to pay us a shitload of money if we’d play tonight.”

Garrett sat up straight and Mitch put his beer down on the bar.

“How much is a shitload?” Mitch asked.

“Five hundred bucks,” Jordan said and we all gaped.

“Why so much?” Maysie asked.

“Because apparently the band that was supposed to play tonight backed out at last minute. He’s freaking out back there.” Jordan jerked his thumb in the direction of the middle aged, overweight manager, who was indeed wringing his hands and looking like he might pass out.

“Well, we can’t exactly call Cole,” Mitch snarled and it was on the tip of my tongue to tell them all to stop being so silly. To tell them to put on their big boy pants call Cole.

But before I could say anything, Maysie jumped in with a surprising suggestion.

“What about Paco? He’s an amazing singer. And he knows all of your songs.”

“Paco? The dishwasher?” Gracie asked, frowning.

Maysie nodded. “Yeah. I know it’s weird. But it’s five hundred bucks and given the way everything’s in limbo right now, you can’t turn down that kind of money. And it’s only one gig. And it’s Barton’s. Who will ever know?” she asked, and the guys started to nod.

“We’ll need to run back to the house and grab our gear. But yeah, I say let’s do it. I think we could all use this,” Garrett agreed.

I couldn’t believe that they were going to put someone else up on that stage with them and let him sing. I couldn’t understand their willingness to replace Cole so quickly.

Garrett must have seen the look on my face because he leaned in and lowered his voice.

“This is Cole’s choice, Viv. Don’t look at us like we’re the bad guys here,” he said and then he and Mitch were up and out the door. Off to get their equipment while Jordan went into the kitchen to talk to the dishwasher turned singer.

“I can’t believe you suggested that,” I told Maysie, feeling depressed by the whole thing.

Maysie shrugged. “Cole’s not coming back to the band, Viv. What else are they supposed to do? They’ve got to move on.”

“How do you know he’s not coming back?” I demanded.

“Because Garrett talked to him this morning. And they got into it. And it was left that Cole was looking into other opportunities. Generation Rejects is going to have to start looking for another singer.”

It annoyed me that Maysie didn’t seem bothered by it. That the fact that Cole, who had been with the band for years, was suddenly leaving and no one seemed upset by the news.

Was I the only one who couldn’t believe Cole would leave his band like that?

“That just doesn’t sound like Cole. Maybe Garrett misunderstood,” I suggested.

Maysie looked at me as though I were speaking tongues.

“I don’t think you know Cole as well as you think you do, Viv,” Maysie said shortly, clearly annoyed that I was defending the former lead singer at all.

Jordan came out of the back with a very excited looking Paco.

“Maysie, my love, thank you!” Paco tried to hug Maysie, who put her hands out stopping him with a laugh.

You needed to keep your distance from Paco. He was bit on the touchy feely side. The middle aged, paunchy, and balding dishwasher looked nothing like lead singer material. But he was enthusiastic; I’d give him that.

Moore and the other wait staff started to clear tables, making room for the amps. I had seen them do this a thousand times before. I had always loved watching the guys set up for a show.

There had always been an air of excitement when I knew Generation Rejects were going to play.

Not this time.

This time I felt like crying.

An hour later, the guys were plugged in and ready to go. The normal ring of Barton’s customers fanned out around them, seeming as confused as I had been to see Paco at the front, microphone in hand.

Jordan, before sitting down at his drum kit, took the mic from Paco and spoke into it.

“It’s awesome to be back at Barton’s!” He pumped his fist into the air and everyone cheered.

“We sure have missed you guys!”

Another round of cheering. Paco stood awkwardly off to the side. His Barton’s shirt grease stained and torn.

“I’m sure you’re wondering why Paco is up here with us tonight,” Jordan grinned, though from here I could see that it was strained.

He held his hand out to indicate the dishwasher. “Well, I don’t know if you’ve ever heard this guy sing, but he’s incredible. So we asked him to join us tonight.”

“Where’s Cole?” someone yelled out from the crowd. I saw Jordan, Mitch, and Garrett exchange glances.

Jordan cleared his throat and forced another smile.

“Well, there are going to be some changes with the line up of Generation Rejects. I’m not sure exactly what’s going to happen. But tonight, with Paco’s help, we’re gonna rock your faces off!” he yelled into the mic and the crowd, though hardly convinced, seemed to accept the excuse, for now.

Paco took the mic and screamed loud and shrill, making me flinch. The guys looked at each other again and the same look was on their face that had to have been on mine.