I straightened up, gripping the mic tighter, and let my voice carry through the arena for one last time tonight.
“Paris, you are insane!” Their response was almost deafening, but I didn’t care. Their satisfaction simply felt too good. “Thank you for being here with us. For screaming, singing, and losing your fucking minds!”
Thump pounded on his drums, the beat only hyping them up more as fans stomped their feet to join in. I raised one hand in the air, feeling like a preacher giving a bullshit sermon on CBN.
“You made this night unforgettable. Every clap, every cheer, every single fucking voice in this arena,youare the reason we do this.”
I paused, letting the energy hit me, feeling it sink in.
“Take care of yourselves, and take care of each other. From all of us in Noctis,merci...et à bientôt!”
With one last wave to the crowd, they erupted. The lights dropped, cloaking us in darkness, but their cheers continued. I felt it in every bone as the five of us left the stage, clapping each other on the back and shoulders as we went.
“Good job, boys,” Dyl said as he took my microphone, before disappearing to instruct the crew as they cleared the stage and loaded up our equipment. It’d be a while before he met us back at the hotel.
“Jesus, I feel incredible,” Thump bellowed, throwing his arms out to the side. Turning to face us, he continued to move, walking backwards down the hallway to the green room. “I don’t know whether I need a line or a good fuck.”
Everyone but me stopped walking, and I only noticed when I collided with Riff’s back. Looking up, I noticed everyone looking at our drummer. Mick’s face was blank, his usual smile absent, while Ghost frowned. But Riff... he was furious.
“Dude,” he growled. “What thefuck?”
Thump took a step back, confusion etched into his boyish features. He was the youngest of the group at twenty-six, and with his rounded cheeks and often questionable choices, sometimes it showed. But as a man in his early thirties and the king of bad decisions, I was hardly one to judge.
“What?” Thump replied, before his eyes widened as he realised what he’d said. “Oh shit.” His gaze met mine. “I’m sorry, man.”
I waved him off. “It’s fine.” Because this time, it was fine. I was so exhausted after the show, and still pumped full of adrenaline from having fun, that I’d barely even reacted to what he’d said.
Of course, that might not be the case every time, and who knew, after our show in Amsterdam, I might react differently. But this was the first show of our European tour—my first sober show ever—and I didn’t want it to end on a bad note because Thump had no filter.
“It isnotfine, Theo!” Riff yelled. “We’re supposed to be a team, man. A family. And we all agreed to help our brother.”
“I know,” Thump snapped back, hands curling into fists. “I already said I was sorry. I didn’t think?—”
“Exactly, you never fucking think. You?—”
I gripped Riff’s forearm and pulled him back, putting some well-needed distance between the two of them. “I said it’s fine.”
Thump and Riff continued glaring at each other, and considering they were both still hyped up from the show, it wouldn’t end well if this continued to escalate.
“What Theo does in his own time is his business, I made that clear from the beginning,” I stated, looking at my best friend. “I appreciate that you want to look out for me, but I’m telling you, for tonight, I’m fine.”
Riff relaxed, some of the tension bleeding from his frame, andhe nodded, though it seemed reluctant. But deep down, he knew as well as I did, this wouldn’t be the last time Thump would fuck up. Hell, all of them would at some point, and... maybe even I would too. But none of them could protect me from everything, and it was down to me to make the best decisions for myself. No matter how much of a struggle it would be.
“Bodhi’s right,” Ghost said, taking a step between them. “It’s the first night of the tour, and we had a fucking awesome show. So let’s not spoil it, yeah?”
Riff nodded again and patted my hand where it remained on his forearm, before continuing down the hall to the green room by himself. He was still pissed, but I’d known him long enough to be sure he’d be okay. Ten minutes strumming at his vintage Gibson Hummingbird and he’d be laughing along with us as we travelled back to the hotel.
“I really am sorry, Bodes,” Thump whispered, and I looked down to see him staring at his feet, digging the toe of his grubby Chucks into the concrete floor.
“Honestly, bro,” I replied, squeezing his shoulder. “It’s no big deal.”
He nodded, but he still didn’t look at me, so Ghost slung an arm around his neck and guided him towards the green room. As they walked off, I heard bits and pieces of their muffled conversation.
“Just take a sec to think next time, okay... we’ll get a beer in the hotel bar.”
Mick and I followed them into the green room, where we hung out until Clara came to collect us. As predicted, Riff was fine after a little time spent in his head with his guitar. By the time we were heading out the back door of the arena to catch a cab, he and Thump were already ribbing each other about their latestLeague of Legendstournament.
When we pulled up outside the hotel, I was practically asleep on my feet. I couldn’t help wondering how the hell I used to make it through an all-night bender. Maybe being sober just meant my age was finally catching up with me.
