"Henry, if you don't stop bossing me around, I'm going to shove this drum stick so far up your ass your proctologist will never be able to find it," Jo said irritably from the drum throne.

She meant business, and she was brandishing her 5B like the merest thought from his direction was going to send her over the edge.

The push and pull of time keeping in the rhythm section was supposed to be one of the best parts of working together, and Henry on bass was usually impeccable. He knew how to find the pocket like no one's business.

Except for tonight when he'd come to rehearsal late, soaking wet and then started ordering her and the others around as if it was his band. The almost instinctual partnership they shared was just… gone. Like they'd never played together and he couldn't find a downbeat if it was dancing nakedly in front of him.

The wanker. She shot him a death glare.

"I'm sorry, Jo. I've had a lot on my mind," he said.

Henry gave her that soulful eyed look that promised they'd talk about whatever was bothering him later. She gave him an equal look that meant they would definitely be talking about it later.

"If you two are done flirting, can we get back to it?" lead singer Joanna Reece asked her band.

Mike Hanson shrugged at the piano. He was always ready. Over on the other side of the stage, Lucas Wahl tapped his sunglasses that he wore even at night. He gave a thumbs-up that he ready to play the blistering sax solo that was part of the next song.

"From the top. Bring us in, Jo," Reece said before turning the reins over to her drummer.