It’s a few minutes before the show, and my head is pounding ferociously as Luke passes me another cup of coffee. I’m sobering, but I feel like death. I really want to blow off the show tonight. I know I can’t, the guys won’t let me, but I sure as shit want to.
Nate is mainly on my back, saying this is all my fault and that I should be hurting for hurting Lunar.
Well fuck that!
She hurt me first by kissing him, so…whatever.
“Dude, drink faster. You need to be sober for the show. Think about the fans,” Ryan urges.
I sigh, picking up the mug and sipping my fifth cup of coffee since landing.
Luke paces the floor—his agitation palpable.
“I feel like shit.” I rest my forehead on my arm on the table in front of me.
“Well, stop acting like a fucking brat, and you won’t feel like shit,” Luke chides sharply. A chair being thrown echoes across the room, followed by fading footsteps. It’s evident Luke has stormed off, but I am too drained to care or react as my eyes remain closed to the harshness of the world.
“You can’t fall apart on us now. We’re starting to make it here in Australia. Luke’s talking about taking this tour to Asia after we finish here, Danger. That’s what would be ahead of us if you don’t fuck this up here and now. I know losing Lunar is difficult, and yes, you fucked up, but take it on the chin and damn well learn. Fuck, man, maybe have a break from women for a while?” Ryan suggests.
I raise my head and nod.
I know I couldn’t go anywhere near another woman.
Lunar’s all I think about, and the hurt in her eyes is scorched into my soul, burning me deeply. Picking up my coffee, I take another sip.
I know Ryan is right.
My luck and track record with women are not good.
“Right, guys, let’s go,” Luke calls out, storming back into the room.
Ryan stands, pulling me with him. “You can do this, Danger.”
I chug back the remnants of my coffee and walk to the back of the stage. The crowd is at capacity, and the roar is booming.I don’t know how I’m going to pull this off, but I know I need to fake it the best I can. Even if it kills me, I must give the crowd the show they paid for—the Recoil they love and want.
Ryan, Matt, and Nate all rush onto the dimly lit stage. The crowd erupts, but all I can do is cringe. The noise is deafening, making my head pound. Luke stares at me from his vantage point, and I take a few deep breaths, then nod. He dips his chin as the band starts, and I run up the stairs, putting on a pretend smile while I wave to the crowd. Ryan leads in with his guitar, and I approach the mic.
The opening song doesn’t require me to use my guitar, so I grasp the mic, pouring all my emotions into the lyrics. It’s one of Lunar’s favorites, and it makes my heart race as I think of her. Despite my efforts, I know my performance is off and I am lacking, but I’m trying to work the crowd like I need to. I am struggling to find the usual stamina and energy. The music feels out of sync, as if it no longer resonates with me.
I’m engulfed in a sense of hopelessness.
Her absence taints everything.
Nothing feels the same without her here.
And knowing she willneverreturn amplifies everything while the performance continues.
I’m fading, powerless to stop it.
My performance is derailing, spiraling out of control.
Nothing clicks, and I can’t get a feel for my music.
I’m drowning.
Without her, I’m nothing.
LUNAR
