“Like… the set. The songs. Theme. Everything. We give them a taste of what next year’s tour will look like, and we base it on the new song—on Bonnie’s song,” Reed says.
“Hell yes,” she blurts, knees swaying excitedly.
“I don’t think that’s what Rock meant…” I say hesitantly.
Because Rock will fucking kill me if I tell him this.
“Wait, give us a second,” Reed tells her. “We can work this out—” He turns his knees in toward Mads, sitting on the edge of the couch, and Mads sighs as he grabs his notebook off the coffee table.
“Alright, give it to me,” he says, ready to take notes.
“Bedlamhas the heart monitor base, right?” He glances at Bonnie. “So, hospital? Inside the monitor? Looking out at death?”
“Don’t forget we have the quartet with us this time,” Zeb says.
“You want to start withBedlam?” Mads asks. “That’s risky, dude. Start with a familiar favorite.”
“We can change up the intro, though,” Bonnie suggests. “Have a monologue, make it immersive. Since Reed’s line is part of the lyrics, maybe we can make it about that.If music is the god you pray to, get on your fucking knees.So, heart monitor, death, what, like a hospital chapel or something—”
“You want to do a fucking prayer?” Mads asks.
Bonnie’s heel begins to hit the couch over and over, her head nodding. “Yeah… The meetings I go to sometimes start with a prayer… Hell yeah. We’ll pray to the music that saved our fucking lives. Every note, phrase, and lyric that kept each of us from dragging a fucking blade the right way on our wrists. There are so many people in that audience who have matching scars. Let’s make it for them. Let’s give them what they came for.”
“Hell fucking yes,” Zeb says.
“Yes, Bon!” Reed says, clapping.
Mads grins at her before looking my way. “I think we need to call Stella,” he says.
I already have my phone out and pressed to my ear.
“Stella Lovren, go ahead,” Stella answers.
“Hey, Stella, you have a minute?” I ask.
“Oh, hi, Gemma. Is everything okay? Are they okay?”
There’s panic in her voice, and I have to chuckle at it. “No, they’re good. They have some ideas for RagnaRock they want to run by you though.”
“Oh fucking—”
I don’t hear the next word because I’m holding my phone out to put it on speaker.
“—these four. Fuck—”
“Hey, Stella,” Reed drawls.
She sighs heavily, and the band snickers.
“We love you, Stella,” Bonnie coos.
“I love you fuckers, too,” she replies. “Okay. Lay it on me. What’s up?”
CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
BONNIE
I feelten pounds lighter than I did an hour before.
