Chase avoids the mirror.
***
Berlin
They chant our name before the lights go up.
Zach takes his shirt off mid-set. Rock crowd-surfs.
My brother disappears for twenty minutes before the encore. I find him sitting alone in the green room, staring at a wall like he wants to climb through it.
When I take a seat beside him, he wraps an arm around me. I press my head against his shoulder, hugging him harder than ever before.
I think that’s all he needed. Because when he storms back onto the stage, he’s fire.
Larger than life.
At the hotel, Chase pulls the curtains closed, shutting out the city lights until the room is hushed and dim. He tugs me into bed beside him, his thumbdrifting along my arm in gentle strokes. He loosens, sinking against me like he can finally rest.
I press closer, letting my heartbeat answer his.
***
Barcelona
We play an open-air festival in a courtyard that smells like sangria and clove smoke.
It’s the biggest crowd yet, thousands of bodies moving in time with every beat.
Chase busts out a guitar solo so good the whole place roars.
When it’s over, he retreats into silence, his throat raw, eyes rimmed red. He pulls me against him on the walk to the limo, pressing a lingering kiss to my temple.
I melt into it, but the longer he holds on, the more I wonder if he’s steadying me or himself.
Kenna sends me a text at 3:00 a.m. because she’s six hours behind. I tell her I miss her.
She knows.
***
Rome
We soundcheck in an abandoned opera house with gold ceilings and crumbling frescoes.
Rock takes my lipstick and writes something in Latin on the dressing room mirror. We laugh, but none of us ask what it means.
The show is a dream, every note clean, every voice in the crowd screaming like they know our souls.
Afterward, Chase slips away, saying he needs air.
Back at the hotel, I stay awake longer than I should, replaying the music in my head and holding on to the part of the night that felt like magic.
When the mattress finally dips under a new weight, Chase slides in beside me. He sets a paper cup on the nightstand, cherries piled inside, and pulls me close like he never left.
***
Amsterdam
