Every time I close my eyes,
I still see you–
The heat, the sweat, the way you move.
Baby just wreck me,
The way you always do.
With a drop of my arms, the band hits the last notes hard, and the lights go out. Blackness engulfs the stage. There are gasps and mutters from the crowd, then the excitement sparks as flashes of light shoot into the sky above. The screens all around the stadium light up with the New Year’s countdown, marking one minute until we ring in a new year.
“It’s been a fucking year, hasn’t it?” I shout into the crowd to cheers and applause. It’s not as if I need to specify all that we’ve been through, especially these last few months. Everyone in the world knows we headed out on tour when I was fresh out of rehab, and everything I struggled with. They saw my very public meltdown and celebrated a triumphant return to the stage tonight. There are still questions, and the press will probably never stop hounding us for answers, but tonight we’re surrounded by a different kind of energy. “I can’t tell you all how thankful I am to get to ring in a new year, new opportunities, a new fucking me, with all of you here today. We wouldn’t be anything without you, without this energy right fucking here!”
My voice echoes over the raised hands, screams, and signs from our fans. “This year is going to be the one that blows them all out of the water. New energy. New songs.”Cue the screams of excitement.“New love?” I smirk as the words are swallowed by the rising thrum of enthusiasm matched by a steady rise of drums, the thrum of the bass, a guitar riff vibrating into the air.
“So let’s bring in this new year right! Grab the person next to you, be it friend, lover, or consenting stranger–don’t be a fucking creep, alright.”
I peel off my shirt, and the crowd roars again. It’s already saturated, barely effective as I wipe my sweaty face and throw it to the side. My wet hair lies flat back as I swipe my hand back through it.
Ten!
I run, breathless, to Naz’s drum set. He lifts one arm enough for me to climb into his lap and plant a quick, ridiculous kiss on his cheek before rolling off the other side and running towards Ari.
Nine!
Ari swings his bass to one side and pulls me against his bare chest, grin wide and toothy. He presses a kiss to my temple that gets a few laughter-fueled boos. Our fans have been shipping us from the beginning.
Eight!
I sprint around to Will, waiting with a saucy grin. He turns his back to me and I hop on, wrapping my arms around his shoulders and pressing a rough kiss to his cheek.
Seven!
“Blake, you shit, where are you!?” I shout.
Six!
Blake steps out, only a few feet from where Luc is hiding in the wings. I run up and wrap my arms around him, getting his pressed blue button-down and grey slacks wet with sweat that he wipes from his face, laughing.
Five!
“Behave,” Blake says, when he catches me side-eyeing the shadows hiding Luc from the view of the crowd.
Four!
Blake relaxes as I run back to my mic stand. “Come on!” I scream, and the crowd chants louder
Three!
Two!
I glance offstage once more and lock eyes with Luc. Gorgeous, steady, stoic, strong Luc, who has been my rock for weeks now. He’ll go back to practice next week, and I’ll have to start Super Bowl prep later this month, but I’m staying with him for the time being. I never want to leave.
As electric as being on stage is, it’s nothing compared to the way every nerve ending in my body and brain comes to life when I so much as look at him.
“Fuck it,” I mutter audibly as the crowd finishes the countdown.
One!
