And so was I.
The song ended, and the fansroaredtheir approval. Behind her keyboard, Violet was grinning. Milo was panting hard at the drums, and Cash was tweaking the frets on his bass guitar.
“Thank you, Houston,” Riot said, voice booming over the speakers. At the mention of their city, the crowd lost its mind for a few seconds before Riot continued. “We’re Cherry Midnight, and we’re happy to be here with you tonight. Who’s ready to fuckingrock?”
The crowd lost it again, and Riot turned around and said something to Milo, who immediately nodded.
Then Riot glanced over and saw me. He did a double-take, then a huge smile filled his face.
He winked at me, then turned back to the crowd as Milo began the next song.
In that moment, if Riot had taken my hand and led me back to the dressing room, I would’ve let him do anything he wanted to me. The surge of desire I felt was almost supernatural. That was the effect Riot had when he had a guitar slung across his chest, totally in command of the stage.
I remembered Violet’s warning:don’t hurt them.
It might be harder to follow than I originally thought.
9
Milo
WOOOO YEAH BABY ROCK AND ROLL LET’S FUCKING GO!
My arms pumped, swinging the drumsticks like I was trying to bangthroughmy drums.
I was a self-proclaimed adrenaline junkie. If it was dangerous, then I’d probably tried it before. Bungee jumping. Base jumping. Skydiving. Zip lines were fun too, especially in countries where regulations were lax and you felt like you were in real danger.
I loved living on the edge. It’s what made me feel trulyalive.
But there was no rush quite like performing in front of thousands of adoring fans.
All of it blended together into an ecstasy-infused cacophony; flashing lights, screaming fans, Cash’s bass, Violet’s keyboard, and of course Riot’s angelic voice at the front. The adrenaline and bliss that filled me while we performed rivaled any other feeling in the world. It was even better than sex, and no, I’m not joking.
I loved being a drummer. I was the heart of the band, providing the beat—the foundation—of every song. Guitarists had tocarefully strum with precision, even during the most intense and insane parts of a show.
But me? I could just fuckingwailon my drums. The way I swung the drumsticks was a full-body workout, leaving my skin sweaty and my muscles burning after the first song.
Tonight, I immediately fell into a flow state. I went from one song to the next, acting on instinct and practice rather than conscious thought. There was nothing to think about; my arms knew what notes to play, which drums to strike.
And I wasn’t the only one.
Riot’s voice had a little extrasomethingin it tonight. The way he gripped the mic and crooned to the crowd, it was like he was trying to fuck the entire arena. Cash was normally stationary on stage, the way most bass players were, but tonight he was striding around his section of the stage like a lion on the prowl. And Violet was banging on her keyboard and belting out the backup vocals like she was auditioning for something bigger.
This was our first concert as headliners, and all of us were giving it everything we had.
As with every show, I felt an overpowering sense oflovefor my bandmates. They were the only people in the world I could truly trust and rely on, and we made an incredible team together. Before Cherry Midnight, I’d never known what that felt like.
I noticed Riot kept glancing backstage after every song, and eventually I saw why. Roxie was standing behind a stack of equipment boxes, nodding her head along with the show.
We’d had groupies before. All bands did. I never thought much about them, because they never lasted long. They usually got bored after a few shows.
Or we did.
Roxie felt different. There was something about her…
I wasn’tinspiredthe way Riot claimed to be. That wasn’t surprising because I didn’t write music, I just played what was given to me. But I was already beginning to understand what Riot felt.
Because with Roxie watching? I felt even more motivation to give this show a hundred percent.
