The Taste of Broken Glass

“Jim?”

Sean knocked again. He’d better be ready, because the lobby was full of reporters. It was Wednesday, their second day in Chile, in between their two concerts in Santiago, and Deborah had decided to spend it on interviews. That way, they would have the whole Friday to rest before the long flight back to LA on Saturday.

“Jimbo!” he called, a little louder.

He could hear music from inside, but he couldn’t tell what it was. He knocked for the fourth time, already fishing in his pockets for his room card. He heard quick footsteps coming and Jim opened the door, half his face covered in shaving cream.

“Dude! I’m fucking shaving! What’s up?”

He let his brother in and headed back to the bathroom. Sean paid attention to the music. What on God’s green earth was Jim listening? He found the answer when he approached the laptop open in the middle of the bed. It was something Silvia had sen