Madly Yours (Nora Reed) novel Chapter 49

"This Leo kid is notoriously impossible to deal with,"

Chloe warned, counting off on her fingers. "He's got a horrible temper, he's insubordinate, he's late to recording sessions, he bails on rehearsals, he fights with senior artists, he smashes guitars backstage... Basically, name a nightmare scenario, and he's done it."

Nora stared at the exceptionally handsome face in the photo, remaining silent.

"Of his thirteen previous managers, he made some cry, he bullied others into quitting, and one even broke their contract with the company, happily paying the penalty fee just to get away from him." Chloe shot her a sympathetic look. "Vivienne says you should give it a shot, but if it gets too bad, we'll swap you out."

Nora closed the file. "Where is he right now?"

"Huh?" Chloe blinked. "He should be in the rehearsal rooms upstairs. That room at the very end of the hall I showed you earlier... He's prepping for a music reality show, so he's basically living in the studio right now."

"Got it. I'll go take a look."

Nora stood up, slinging her bag over her shoulder as she headed for the door.

"Are you sure you want to go right now?" Chloe called after her. "Don't you want to mentally prepare yourself first?"

Nora didn't look back; she simply waved a hand over her shoulder.

...

The rehearsal studios were on the eleventh floor.

The entire floor had been converted into practice spaces. Soundproof glass rooms lined the hallway, showcasing artists practicing routines, doing vocal warm-ups, or huddling in deep discussions.

Nora walked to the end of the corridor. The door to the final studio was partially cracked open.

Before she even got close, an aggressive, jarring blast of guitar chords pierced the air.

It wasn't a matter of whether the playing was good or bad; it was sheer, unapologetic noise.

Nora stopped at the doorway.

There was only one young man in the room.

He was sitting on the floor with his back to the door, wearing a loose black hoodie with the hood pulled up, revealing only the sharp, aggressive line of his jaw.

An electric guitar rested in his lap, and he was violently dragging a pick across the strings, producing a hideous, ear-splitting shriek.

Nora knocked on the door.

He ignored her.

She knocked twice more.

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