Drew looks at his pass like it might combust. “Was that real? Did that just happen?”
Miles exhales, the ghost of a smile on his face. “It happened.”
Eli whoops loud enough to startle the techs down the hall. “Club Échelon! Bro, do you know whogoesthere? Actors, producers, label execs—hell, probably aliens in disguise.”
Drew grins, shaking his head. “Don’t make it weird.”
“Too late,” Eli says, already pocketing his pass. “I’m buying everyone a drink when we get there. Including the aliens.”
I laugh, but my phone buzzes in my pocket before I can answer. I know who it is before I even look.
Ollie.
The thought alone sends a current through me. I fumble for my phone, screen lighting up my damp hands.
A simple mind-blown emoji fills my screen.
Me: You were here. Holy shit, Ollie!!!!
The dots appear almost immediately.
Ollie: I wouldn’t want to break tradition now, would I? You were… insane. I don’t even have words.
Me: Didn’t imagine you’d be the one I’d see when the lights hit.
Ollie: Couldn’t miss it. You—God, Rafe. That song.
I pause. My fingers hover over the keyboard. Heknows.Of course he does. The words weren’t subtle, not with him watching.
Me: You liked it?
Ollie: Liked it? You lit the place on fire. I’m still trying to come down. But I can’t come around backstage—too many eyes, too many cameras.
I bite back a curse. Of course.
Me: Come celebrate with us.
There’s a pause, long enough for my heart to trip once.
Ollie: Okay.
Me: We’ve got passes for a club. Échelon. Off-Strip. Supposed to be discreet.
Ollie: Discreet, huh? That your way of saying I won’t get recognized?
Me: That’s my way of saying I want you there.
The dots blink again.
Ollie: Text me when you’re on your way. I’ll meet you outside.
I slip my phone away, heartbeat doing its own drum solo.
He’s coming.
Miles nudges me. “You good?”
I grin, a little too wide. “Better than good.”
