Jake’s back in a simple black button-up and jeans, his usual effortless charm on full display. He runs a hand through his hair, messing up the perfectly-styled look from earlier. His eyes land on me almost immediately as if he is seeking me out.
“You holding up?” he asks casually, but there’s an undercurrent of something more.
I nod, holding his gaze longer than I should. “Just another day at the office.”
His lips twitch upward. “You always did have a knack for understatement.”
Before I can respond, West emerges from the dressing rooms, his eyes flick to us, but he doesn’t walk over to join us. He keeps his distance. That’s probably for the better considering my whole body is hyper-aware when he gets close, like it remembers exactly how close it was to getting what it craves. Not that I can forget it, it’s like a damn neon sign flashing in my head. And all of them act like it didn’t happen. It’s driving me crazy.
Todd follows him out, his movements brisk and efficient as he adjusts the sleeves of his shirt. He glances around, his perceptive gaze taking everything in.
“Alright,” he says, his tone firm. “Let’s head out. We’ve got a soundcheck to prep for.”
“Already barking orders,” Xayden mutters under his breath, though there’s no real heat behind it.
Todd doesn’t even glance his way. “Some of us like being on time.”
Jake shrugs, clapping Xayden on the shoulder. “You heard the man. Let’s move.”
Xayden hesitates, his gaze landing on me for a moment. “Guess that’s our cue.”
“Guess so,” I say softly, suddenly wishing they didn’t have to go so soon.
They head for the door, their footsteps echoing in the now-quiet space. Jake lingers for half a second, his eyes meeting mine in a way that makes my breath catch, before he turns and follows the others.
CHAPTER 12
Todd
I’m still notsure what we agreed to. Being around Ashlyn this much is messing with my head. And I know it’s not just me. I see it in the way Jake and Xayden gravitate toward her, the way West has closed himself off. He barely speaks unless it’s necessary, but his lyrics have been flowing since that first night. His feelings, raw and unfiltered, have become the backbone of every song we’ve worked on since. It’s all there—grief, regret, longing—on full display as we create music to go with them.
I know that things got heavy with her at the club, and every word he’s written has screamed out every detail. But even with his new lyrics, I know he’s holding more back, it’s not all out there..
We arrive at Forest Hills Stadium, the venue that will kick off our touring season, the guys following behind me in silence. Everything that’s unsaid hangs heavy in the air, but we don’t acknowledge it. Not now.
Stepping onto the stage feels like slipping into a familiar skin, one that doesn’t itch with old wounds or unresolved tension. Xayden heads straight for the drums, twirling a stick in his hand as if to remind himself—and us—that he’s still thesame showman he’s always been. Jake picks up his bass, fingers sliding over the strings in idle patterns while he adjusts the strap on his shoulder. West stands at the edge of the stage with his guitar, already lost in some melody that only he can hear.
And me? I step to the mic. This, at least, we know how to do.
The seats in the stadium stretch out before us, row after row of emptiness. It’s a reminder of how far we’ve come. This place seats over 13,000 people. It’s more than we dreamed of back when it was just us and Ashlyn against the world. Back when we were kids with big plans and no clue how much we’d screw it all up.
Hindsight really is 20/20. We were so scared of failure, so jealous of losing her to the spotlight when she got her first acting deal, that we let it tear us apart. We didn’t celebrate her success. We didn’t tell her we were proud of her. No, we did the opposite. We pushed her away.
Worse, I’m pretty sure the guys did it because of me. My fucked up trauma caused us all trauma, like a viscous cycle. My mom abandoning dad and I when I was a kid—it fucked me up. It ruined my life back then, and then I let it ruin my life again when Ash told us the news.
The thought settles like a lead weight in my chest as I grab the mic. Xayden starts a beat, sharp and driving, and the rest of us fall in line. The sound fills the empty space, the kind of raw energy that always brings us back to center. But today, it doesn’t feel the same.
The words come automatically, the lyrics etched into my mind like a scar. But halfway through the verse, my voice cracks, betraying me. I trail off, the sound swallowed by the vast, empty stadium.
I take a step back, my breath coming faster than it should. My grip tightens on the mic stand, the metal cool beneath my fingers.
“You good?” Jake’s voice breaks through, his bass still humming softly. He glances over, brow furrowed.
“Fine,” I manage, though it’s a lie, and I know he knows it.
Xayden doesn’t miss a beat, keeping the rhythm going, but his eyes dart toward me. “You sure? Because that didn’t sound fine.”
West doesn’t say anything, his gaze fixed on his guitar, but I catch the slightest hitch in his strumming.
