“Not crowds like this.” I scanned the growing mass of bodies near the stage again, still looking for a face I wasn't sure would actually be there. “What if we suck? What if I fuck up the timing and everyone realizes we're just some local band who got lucky?”
“Then we suck in front of a thousand people and never get hired again.” Luca said it cheerfully, like the prospect of public humiliation was just mildly amusing instead of terrifying. “Or we kill it and prove we deserve to be here. Either way, standing around panicking isn't helping.”
He wasn't wrong, but that didn't make the nerves any easier to handle.
June grabbed my arm before I could spiral further. “Come with me. I need to show you a thing backstage.”
“What thing?”
“A thing. Just come on.”
She dragged me off the stage and through the backstage area, weaving between equipment and other musicians. I followed her around a corner expecting to find a broken amp or a missing cable or whatever crisis had sparked this sudden urgency.
Instead, I found Rook.
He was leaning against the wall near the green room entrance, hands shoved in the pockets of his jacket and an expression on his face that went from casual to warm the second he saw me. My brain short-circuited for about three seconds, and then I was moving without thinking, closing the distance between us and pulling him into a hug that was probably too tight and definitely too desperate.
He caught me easily, arms coming up around my ribs, and I felt him laugh against my shoulder in a way that made my chest ache.
“Hey,” he said quietly, and the word was so simple but landed like relief.
“You came.” I pulled back far enough to look at him, still not quite believing he was here.
“I wanted to see you play.” He said it like it was obvious, like choosing to show up for me was the easiest decision in the world.“Besides, I've been told I need to have a life outside hockey. Figured I'd start by supporting you.”
I had to look away before the warmth in my chest could turn into anything messier. “Well. Thanks for coming. It means a lot.”
“Good luck out there.” He squeezed my shoulder once and then let go, stepping back to give me space. “The whole team's watching, by the way. They're streaming the performance because Finn wouldn't shut up about how good you guys are. So, you know. No pressure.”
“Oh my god.” I pressed my hands to my face, caught between mortification and laughter. “That's the worst thing you could have possibly told me right now.”
“You'll be great. You always are.” He said it with enough certainty that I almost believed him. “Now get out there and show Montreal what they've been missing.”
June reappeared and started herding me back toward the stage, grinning like she'd just pulled off the heist of the century. I looked back once and caught Rook's eye, and the smile he gave me was warm enough to carry me through whatever nerves were still rattling around in my chest.
The stage lightshit the second we walked out, bright and hot and blinding in ways that made it impossible to see the crowd clearly at first. But once my eyes adjusted, I found him. Front section, beer in hand, standing out from the chaos purely because he was the only person in the entire fair I'd been looking for all night.
He raised his drink slightly when he saw me looking, and the grin on his face was so genuine it made my throat tight.
The first song started, and I threw myself into the rhythm the way I always did when the noise in my head needed an outlet. But this time it felt different. Lighter. The static that usually lived underneath my ribs had eased into quiet, and for the first time in weeks I felt like I could breathe properly while I was playing.
Rook's presence did that. Not because I needed him to function, exactly, but because being seen by him mattered in ways I didn't have language for yet. He'd shown up. Had driven across the city straight from the locker room just to watch me play drums at a fair, and the fact that he'd done that made everything else feel manageable.
The set flew by in a blur of drumbeats and bass lines and Luca's guitar work that was somehow even better than usual. The crowd responded well, moving and cheering and giving us energy that fed back into the performance until we were all riding the high of it. By the time we finished our last song and walked off stage, I was sweating through my shirt and grinning so hard my face hurt.
June grabbed me in a crushing hug the second we cleared the wings. “Holy shit, that was incredible! Did you hear them? They fucking loved us!”
“We didn't suck,” Luca added helpfully. “I'd call that a win.”
“You're both idiots.” But I was laughing, adrenaline still pumping through my system in waves that made standing still feel impossible. “I need air. And probably water. Maybe both.”
I made my way through the backstage chaos and out into the fair proper, and Rook found me within minutes like he'd been tracking my movement the whole time.
“You were fucking amazing,” he said, falling into step beside me as we started walking. “The whole team went nuts when you finished that last song. Finn's already demanding you teach him how to play.”
“Finn would be a disaster on drums. Too much energy, not enough focus.” I grabbed a bottle of water from a vendor and took a long drink, trying to cool down from the set. “How was the game? I saw the score but didn't get to watch.”
“Won it in the second.” He looked at me sideways. “Might have been checking the time a little more than usual in the third period.”
