Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 71698 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 358(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71698 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 358(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
Luke shakes his head. What the fuck was that, man?
I whip around and quickly launch into the correct song. It’s meant to be acoustic at first, with the band joining in later. They pick it up flawlessly, even though they’re stunned and no doubt pissed. I didn’t mean to do that, but they’ll never believe it. It’s not like I could start and just stop.
We play through the rest of the set, turning on the energy in a slower-paced way. I let the crowd fuel me so I can give them the best performance of my life, just like I vowed to do for every performance I ever give. It’s only fair. It’s right. Every single night, every single time, every single show, no matter what.
The night comes to an end, we leave the stage for a few minutes without looking at each other, and then come back for a four-song encore. After it’s over, I stand, sweating and trembling, my heart so damn full from being given new life on this stage.
I raise my arms high and shout, “Thank you so much, San Diego. This has been one of the best nights I’ve ever known.” My throat closes for a second, hot and prickling, when I consider that this might be the last time I’m ever up here. The last show I ever do. Certainly, it’s looking that way for the band. We can’t hold it together any longer.
If it’s over, then it’s over, and I’ve lived the best years I could have ever asked for. It wasn’t easy. There were nights when I wondered why I was even doing it. Things I read online that made me sick. So much hate. But there’s been far more goodness, far more love, and far more beauty. People coming together. All this emotion. We created this. Together.
And if that’s all we’ve ever done, it’s a thousand times more than I ever thought I’d be able to do. To feel. To experience. I’ll hold this night, and all the others, with me forever.
I thank the band, one by one, and then I surprise myself again. “I didn’t know if I’d be able to make it tonight as I was pretty sick on the way here. So I want to thank the woman who made it possible. To all the medical professionals out there, you’re incredible. This woman has been looking after me for years and caring for the needs of the band and our team too. I want to hear a huge thank you to her!”
The crowd goes wild, clapping and stomping, screaming and cheering. The noise goes on and on, and we leave the stage to the sound of those cheers.
I’m swamped as soon as I get back there, with at least ten different people demanding my attention. I can’t just shake them off. I’ve never paid anyone lip service before. I got as far as I did because I’m honest, and I more than wear my heart on my fucking sleeve. I’m all heart. All sleeve. All the time.
It’s a good thirty minutes before I can detach myself from the crowd and get back to our dressing room.
The one person I was hoping to find is nowhere in sight.
I hurry through showering and getting changed, the other guys buzzing around me but keeping their distance. The same palpable tension that’s been in the air between us for a while now is thick as sour milk. And no one likes sour milk. Unless you’re a cook, or you’re creative and want to make some astonishing miracle cheese, because any cheese made from something that smells like old socks dipped in a septic tank and left out to cure for seven point eight six two years is a miracle.
Carissa is probably back on her bus.
I yank on a fresh set of jeans and pull on one of my favorite T-shirts. The adrenaline still hasn’t worn off. I feel so much better than I did this morning. I was old gym sock milk cheese last night, but this morning, I was just regular old socks. By afternoon, I knew I’d be able to get myself up on stage. I’m not good as new or anything, but I have more than enough energy to get back to the bus to talk to her.
I need to talk to her.
To see her.
To thank her properly.
Why haven’t I ever noticed how gorgeous she is? She’s not just beautiful but truly heart-deep, bone-deep, and soul-deep astonishing.
I sling my bag over my shoulder and am about to walk out of the room and head back to the buses when Matt stops me with a hand on my shoulder. It’s not a friendly touch, and I’m not imagining the hostility in it.
He silently shoves a folded-up piece of paper into my chest. “Good thing this is it anyway,” he sneers before shoving past me out of the room and letting the door bang shut right in my face.