Morris smiled. "You don't need it."
The band made our way to the curtain backstage. We barely had enough time to grab our instruments from the crew before the lights went down and we were given our cue. We made a circle and, with clenched hands, did a six-way fist bump, our usual ritual.
"Alright, guys," I said. I looked at each of them in turn. No hint of nerves. Just fiery resolve, an eagerness, a familiar hunger burning in their eyes. "Let's put on the show of our lives."
We took our places. I was center stage. Gael and Julian were on my left. Liam and Nathan were on my right. Seth was positioned behind us. The lights were still down. I ran through our set list in my head, preparing myself.
I had caved when it came to the set list. Liam had been on to something when he talked about switching opening and closing songs. Starting withNineteenset the tone of the concert.
It wasn't just a rock show. We weren't just playing music. We were wringing emotions from the audience. We were enchanting them, seducing them.
In those moments on stage, the audience was our lover. We gave ourselves to them and asked them to give themselves to us in return.
It wasn't just a rock show.
It was a torrid love affair.
How fitting, then, our choice of opening song.
It was one of the earliest Cherry Lips song I'd ever written about my first, and only, true love.
The lights went up, blinding me. The crowd roared. Seth hit his drumsticks. Julian smashed his fingers down on the keys with a thundering crash. Nathan and Liam shredded their fingers across their fret boards. Gael joined in with bass, a familiar heavy beat thrumming through my body.
My hand squeezed around the microphone.
Ending the concert withNineteenwas easy. I was hyped up, running on adrenaline, basking in the glory of an enraptured audience — the past was a distant memory. It had no power to hurt me. I lived fully in the present.
But Morris had just walked back into my life and stirred up unwanted thoughts, unwanted feelings. All my old grief hit me with full force.
My throat closed up. My mouth went dry. My hands trembled.
I couldn't do this.
The concert had already started and I was so close to crying, tears were already stinging my eyes.
Shit. I had to pull myself together or I was going to blow this whole thing.
The song had a long intro. I kept my head bowed, long hair covering my face, gripping the microphone with both hands. It was a typical lead singer pose, as if I was a tiger lying in wait, waiting for the right moment to let loose with my claws and jump on my prey.
I caught movement through the curtain of my hair. Liam was sidling up next to me. It seemed as if his fingers both lovingly stroked and frantically tore at the strings of his guitar.
I lifted my head a fraction, meeting his eyes. The spotlights hit them, making them glow. Despite the cocky smirk on his face, his eyes glimmering with concern. Concern, but also reassurance.
He mouthed five words.
You're a fucking rock star.
A slow smile crossed my face.
I often felt vulnerable around Liam. He knocked me off balance. I had shown him too much of myself. I'd revealed more than I'd cared to.
But there were these other times. Times like this when he looked at me, so sure in my talent, so confident. He looked at me like he had complete faith in me. Like he was in awe of me.
I didn't feel vulnerable in these moments. I felt strong. Powerful.
Liam tilted his chin smugly and jerked it toward the audience, as if to say,what are you waiting for?
He was right. What the hell was I waiting for?
I shoved aside thoughts of grief and pain and heartbreak. I lifted my head high and looked out at the cheering crowd.
I inhaled deeply, getting ready to let loose with familiar lyrics, passionate and full of fervor.
I'm not going to let grief stop me,I thought to myself.This is my moment.
I'm going to burn like the sun.
