I fold it once and leave it on his nightstand.
Right beside the glass of water and the pills he never took.
You glow with the night
And I still trace your shadow
Beneath the same moon
Chapter 49Chase
I feel good tonight. Better than I have in weeks.
Since starting on a new prescription, the pressure in my head has eased into a dull, manageable ache. It’s wild how much a little relief can shift your whole perspective on everything, from the day ahead, to the future you stopped letting yourself believe in.
It’s been a week since we toured Europe, and we’re back in Rutland for a spring break festival across town.
Home base.
Cops are everywhere, trying to keep the peace and the crowd in check, but the vibe is electric. People are camped out in lawn chairs and sprawled on colorful blankets, waving foamboard signs and homemade posters while they wait for us to take the stage.
We all gather in the pop-up tent that’s roped off and swarming with security. Familiar faces bleed through the chaos: Annie and Tag’s parents waving from behind the barricades, my old boss Solomon nodding like he always knew this would happen.
Zach’s daughter, Marie, is here, clinging to her mother’s side, wide-eyed and smiling, while a couple of his old bandmates hover nearby, proud and a little out of place.
Rock’s newest girlfriend—some LA metal chick with ink from neck to ankle and piercings I can’t count—dances like the set’s already started, her black hair whipping in time with nothing but the energy in the air. Even Declan and Lillian, the wedding couple we played for before everything took off, showed up and are grinning ear to ear.
It’s loud. Wild. Unruly.
But for the first time in a long while, I can hear the magic through the madness.
I don’t have to fake it today.
Kenna limps over on a pair of crutches, after breaking her foot two days before we set off on our European tour. “I’m barely recovered from Tag dropping an amp on my foot, and now he expects me to run merch like it’s the Olympics.”
Tag winces. “You said you’d catch it.”
“I said I’d help. Not that I wanted to die under it.”
We all laugh.
Kenna shoots Tag the smallest smile, one she thinks we don’t see. Then she blows out a breath and trudges over to the merch table strewn with T-shirts, mugs, keychains, and a giant banner with a QR code that lets fans pre-order our debut album releasing in August.
Annie pops up from the chair, giving Kenna her seat. She flicks her half-smoked cigarette, smashing it into a pile of weeds with her shoe. “Why does playing a few miles from home feel like our biggest show yet?” she wonders, floating around, organizing until everything’s just right.
“Because of the stakes. Literally everyone you’ve ever met is in that crowd.” Kenna collapses into the chair and discards her crutches. “No pressure.”
“Oof.”
“You’ll kill it as always. I’m dying to hear the new song you whipped up.”
“It was a joint effort,” Annie says softly, her eyes lifting to me across the tent. “Chase and I wrote most of it overseas between shows.”
I send her a smile that grows into a white-toothed grin.
Real. Genuine.
She blinks at me. Processes the moment like it stole her breath.
