All the remaining air in my lungs vanishes, leaving me a gasping mess. “What?! I can’t do that, Justin. Not in front of thousands of people.”
My jerk of a manager has the audacity to just shrug. “As I said, it’s finalized. I know you can do it. Just feel the rhythm of the music and dance. Make everyone’s jaw fall to the floor while they cream their pants.”
Ew, I want to barf.
See, I’m only good for my body.
He escapes my dressing room and leaves me alone with my thumping heartbeat. I blink a couple of times to get rid of the sudden tears that have rushed to my eyes.
I won’t cry.
I can do this.
I can be the person everyone thinks I am.
But how is this fair? How can they make this decision for me without asking for my consent first?
I’m only left in my thoughts for a couple more minutes until someone collects me to get ready for the concert. The closer I get to the stage, the louder the screams get, and the louder my thoughts yell at me.
I don’t want this, yet I’m being forced to do it.
Before I join my siblings, where they stand near the closed stage curtain, a hand grabs my forearm, stopping me. Glancing back, I see green eyes.
“I know you’re nervous. But you don’t need to be when you’re with me. Just pay attention to me, and I’ve got you.” He lowers his voice, and I stare, dumbfounded at his sudden softness.
His lips place a delicate kiss on my cheek before he takes a step back. “I know this is pretty fucked up, but you’ve got this, Drakos. Don’t get in your head. Focus on me.”
How can he be so hot and cold?
But right now, I give in to the temporary comfort he gives me. Smiling slightly, I join my brothers and my best friend.
“Did you take your medicine?” I ask a relaxed-looking Elijah.
He nods his head.
All three of us take a deep breath as the roar of the crowd gets louder, becoming ear-piercing as our name is announced.
CHAPTER33
AMELIA
I’ve seen a lot of controversy going around that my brothers are fame hogs.
But little does everyone know, I like being in the background. I enjoy not being the center of attention. Playing the drums is therapeutic for me. It temporarily eases my stress off my shoulders. But tonight, for at least a couple of minutes, I’m going to be the center of attention. I’m confident in my singing abilities. The problem is, my stress might take over every logical part of my brain.
The last thing I need is to have a panic attack onstage.
The roar of the crowd intensifies when a backstage worker walks onto the stage and places a chair right smack in the middle. I focus on the thousands of signs that are being held up in the crowd instead of my shaking hands.
My grumpy brother walks up to me as he takes off his white electric guitar and places it on a stand.
“I’ll try not to barf,” he yells in my ear in an attempt for me to hear him over our fans’ screams.
“How do you think I feel?” I yell back. “I want to run away and not look back.”
Handing him my sticks, I walk to the edge of the stage and muster up my fakest smile for the thousands of people watching me in person, waiting eagerly to see what’s next.
“I hope everyone’s enjoying the show so far!” I speak into my pink microphone, which earns me thousands of responses from every direction. I smile once the yells die down and wait for Leonidas to get ready on the drums. “I know you all love surprises, so I’m really excited to announce that there’s a special guest tonight!”
