The room goes quiet for a moment as we all mull it over.
Enzo snorts. “That’s stupid.”
“Yeah?” Jax shoots back. “So isElectric Wounds, and we’ve been rocking that name for years.”
I tap lightly against my thighs, grinning. “He’s got a point.”
Marcus shrugs, a small smile tugging at his lips. “I don’t hate it.”
Lily looks between us, shaking her head in amusement. “Alright, fine. If we ever changed the band name, which we aren’t doing,Intoxicating Heartsisn’t the worst idea.”
“Sold,” I say. “Looks like we’ve got ourselves a new name.”
Lily sighs in response, causing me to smirk.
“Maybe someday we’ll actually need it,” Marcus says. “For now, we can just be Electric Wounds featuring guest artist Lily Thompson.”
“I like that,” she agrees, smiling softly at Marcus.
We spend the rest of the afternoon riding the high of the decision, the energy in the room buzzing with excitement. The banter never stops—Enzo’s dry sarcasm, Marcus’s calm counterpoints, Jax’s quieter but sharp remarks, and Lily’s quick wit keeping us all in check.
As the golden light of sunset streams through the rehearsal space, I glance around at the group. The music,the laughter, the connection—it’s all here. And now, with Lily officially taking part in three of our tracks, it feels like we are stronger than ever.
CHAPTER 32
REDEMPTION
JAX
The stage lights blaze down,hot and unrelenting, casting a foggy haze onto the endless rows of people stretching out before me. My heart hammers against my ribs, the familiar surge of adrenaline colliding with a gnawing unease. This isn’t just another show, it’s our second show after the incident and despite the first one going well, I’m still anxious. The stakes have never felt higher.
I grip my mic tightly, the metal cool and solid in my hands, my lifeline in a storm of uncertainty. Sweat trickles down the back of my neck, mingling with the leather of my jacket, but I barely register it.
I glance at Marcus, who meets my gaze with a nod, his blond hair catching the lights, giving him an almost ethereal glow. To my left, Enzo adjusts the strap to his bass, his dark eyes scanning the audience with focus. Behind me, Dylan taps his drumsticks against the rim of his snare in a steady rhythm, his usual playful smirk replaced by quiet concentration.
My eyes drift to the edge of the stage, where Lily stands just behind the curtain. She’s partially hidden, but I catch the soft gleam of the lights catching her blonde hair. It frames her face like a halo. She gives me a small, encouraging thumbs up. It’s subtle, but it’s enough to keep me from unraveling completely.
Inhaling a deep breath, I step forward. The noise of the crowd becomes subdued as they anticipate something important. My nerves buzz with with unease, almost suffocating, and I push past the weight pressing on my chest.
"Hey, everyone," I begin, my voice cracking slightly. I clear my throat, forcing myself to keep going. "Before we get into tonight’s show, I need to say something."
Thousands of faces stare back at me, and for a moment, the noise of our fans becomes a deafening silence. My chest tightens, but I press on.
"I’ve been through some things lately," I admit, my voice wavering. "Dark things. Addiction… it’s a fight. It’s messy, and it’s hard. And it took almost losing everything—this band, my friends, the music, and all of you—for me to realize I needed to change. To forgive myself."
The words hang in the air, the weight of them settling into the venue, slipping into the cracks until they fade. My throat feels tight, but I force myself to keep going.
"Recovery is a process," I continue, my voice stronger now. "It’s not perfect, and I’m still figuring it out. But one thing I know is that I’m not doing it alone. I’ve got my brothers up here." I glance at Marcus, Dylan, and Enzo, and they each give me a nod, their silent support bolstering me. "And I’ve got someone else who’s been my anchor through it all… Her name is Lily."
The crowd erupts, their cheers crashing over me like a wave. I raise my hand to quiet them, my pulse quickening as I glance toward the curtain.
"I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for her and for my band," I say, my voice thick with emotion. "They’ve been my rock, and I want her to share this moment with us. Lily, come out here."
There’s a beat of hesitation, and I think she might not step forward. But then, she does. Slowly, she moves into the light, her black outfit simple yet striking with her blonde hair and pale coloring. Our fan’s cheers swell again as she walks toward me, her cheeks flushed and her steps hesitant.
When she reaches me, I hold out the mic, but she shakes her head, laughing softly.
"No," she says, her voice just loud enough for the mic to pic it up over the noise. "This is your moment."
