“What. The. Fuck,” Will says.
“Did that actually just happen?” Oliver finally blurts out, jerking a thumb over his shoulder.
“I think so,” I say, overwhelmed and awestruck.
“I didn’t think they were actually going to meet the bands,” Tom throws in.
“Me neither,” Oliver says, shaking his head in disbelief.
The crowds start pouring into the stadium, grabbing drinks from kiosks and chatting among themselves as they find their seats. The space grows louder by the minute. We’re the second-to-last band up for the night, so we have the chance to watch the others perform first. I’m relieved we’re on late—it would be brutal going up as the first cab off the rank. Now we just have to keep our nerves steady, pull it together, and hope we play better than the rest.
April’s out there somewhere, and I let that knowledge ground me.
Once everyone’s found their seats, the first band of the night takes the stage, and the crowd roars to life. We’re tucked in the wings where we can see everything. The energy vibrating through the stadium is intoxicating and electric.
The guitarist starts off with a slow prelude, before the intensity builds and the drummer joins in.
They get stuck into the first song when Tom nudges me, his eyes glued to the band out front. “They’re good,” he mutters.
“Yeah,” I reply. “But we’re better.”
Oliver laughs, clapping me on the back. “That’s the spirit. Just remember to breathe, alright?”
Easier said than done. I feel like the wind has been knocked out of me.
The first band finishes their set, and we stay where we are, watching each group work through their songs. They all play incredibly well; there’s no doubt about their talent. We exchange a few nods and murmurs with the bands as they file offstage, which just amps us up even more.
By the time we’re down to the final three performances, almost two hours have passed and my fingers itch to play. I want to stand out there and feel the stage under my feet, the lights heat my skin, and my bass vibrate through my body.
Rachel appears next to us, capturing our attention as she flashes a smile. “Five minutes ‘til it’s your turn. Get ready.”
Finally, the band wraps up, and the crowd’s cheers echo through the stadium as the performers exit. The lead singer catches my eye and acknowledges me, sweat dripping down his face. “Break a leg out there,” he says, his voice hoarse, and the crew moves in to reset the stage for our act. I clap him on the shoulder as he passes. “Will do.”
Rachel appears with her clipboard. “Alright, lads, this is it,” she says, throwing a quick grin. “You’re up.”
I blow out a long, heavy breath.
Fuck. I can see why people get addicted to this feeling.
The crowd explodes with excitement as we take our positions.
The lights dim and the crowd quiets, and then Tom’s voice booms through the stadium as he announces our name. “I hope you don’t mind, but my friend here, James, is going to start us off. How do you feel about that?”
Nerves erupt through me as I stride towards the microphone. I quickly adjust the stand, and Tom gives me an encouraging slap on the back. “You’ll kill it,” he says.
This is it.
I inhale and ready my hands over my bass strings. Oliver raises his drumsticks in the air and clicks them together, counting us in: “One, two, three, four!”
Releasing my breath, I start singing.
Chapter 45
April
Gemma, Anna, Mason, and I arrive at the stadium together, weaving through the crowd towards the VIP entrance.
“Mason, I’m so glad you’re tagging along!” Gemma says.
