I can’t keep still. Every circuit of the arena feels like caffeine straight to my bloodstream, sound checks, lighting cues, crew chatter. I’m bouncing off the walls, and Rithy’s watching me like he’s calculating the odds I’ll sprain an ankle before we even hit the stage.
“Calmthe fuckdown,” he mutters, half grinning. “You’ll injure yourself before the encore.”
Ronan claps me on the back hard enough to rattle something loose. “Let him be. Good to see him excited again instead of clocking in like a bored accountant. He’s been on autopilot since London.”
I grin at him, and it feels good. He’s right. The shows since London have been a blur of exhaustion, calls, and counting down the days until I could stop running. But now that we’re here, on the edge of the finish line, it’s pure adrenaline.
Kiri, on the other hand, looks like someone kicked his puppy. He’s hunched over his phone, brow furrowed, when it starts buzzing again. The PR team, judging by his expression.
“Fuck’s sake,” he murmurs, rubbing his face. “The girl I was seeing went public with a footballer. Probably had him waiting in the wings. I didn’t reply to her blackmail fast enough, so now she’s leaking a few of my—” he makes a vague motion with his hand, “—private messages.”
Rithy starts laughing so hard he nearly drops his cigarette. “You mean themoaningvoice notes?”
Kiri groans and drops his head to the table. “Kill me. Please.”
Ronan’s still laughing when Kiri suddenly looks up at me. “Actually, you didn’t tell me Natalia ishot as fuck.”
I blink. “Natalia?Kasia’s sisterNatalia? What the hell—how do you evenknowabout her?”
“She messaged me ages ago,” he says, shrugging. “Told me who she was, but I was too caught up in Heather at the time.”
Rithy snorts. “Her name wasHeather? No wonder, brother.”
Kiri flips him off and slides his sunglasses up to hide his embarrassment. “Yeah, well. Anyway. Natalia. Maybe next time you visit Kasia, I could, you know, come by. Say hi.”
I arch a brow. “You want to use mygirlfriend’s sisteras your personal rebound?”
The table erupts, Ronan laughing, Rithy choking on his drink, Kiri grinning like he just struck gold.
“Oh, don’tact surprised,” I say, raising both hands in mock surrender. “Yes,girlfriend.Whatever. My point still stands. Also, she’stwenty-two, Kiri.”
He smirks. “She’s an adult. Glad we both agree there. Also, not a rebound, just a hello.”
I narrow my eyes. “It’smeyou’re talking to. There’s no such thing as‘just hello.’ There’s ‘hello’ followed byextremely loudfucking in your hotel room. Thank God they book us away from each other now.”
All three of them nod solemnly, unified for once.
Then Rithy leans back, smirking. “Yeah, thankGod.I don’t have to listen to you and Kasia whisper sweet nothings or Freja screaming to theAll-Fucking-Fatherin Swedish.”
The silence is instant. Kiri and I stare at him, eyes wide. Ronan’s head snaps up, jaw tightening.
Rithy raises his hands like he’s innocent, sinking deeper into his chair and tugging his collar up. “What? I’m just saying, everyone’s got needs. Yes,even youRonan.”
Ronan glares. “You’re a dead man if you bring up Freja again.”
“Moving the fuck on,” Rithy mutters quickly, already reaching for his drink.
I shake my head, laughing despite myself. “God help us all when the afterparty starts.”
Tonight it really feels like everything’s exactly how it should be, chaotic, loud, alive. The lights hit, the crowd roars, and it feels like electricity under my skin. This is what it’s supposed to feel like, the final night of the European tour, everything fine-tuned, every chordhitting clean. We’re on it from the first note. Ronan’s drumming like a man possessed, Kiri’s bass rolling through the floor, Rithy’s guitar cutting through the air like fire. I can feel the pulse of it deep in my chest. The noise, the sweat, the adrenaline, it’s a living thing.
I lean into the mic, shouting the opening ofObsidian Choir, the crowd answering like thunder. For a few minutes, I forget the exhaustion, the travel, the ache of missing her. I’m just sound and heartbeat and movement, giving everything we’ve got for the last time this tour.
And then, I see her.Front section, just beyond the barrier. That spot. The one that’s always been reserved for friends and family. People who matter, people who know what it costs to be up here. Emily.
For a second, my brain doesn’t register it. Just a flash of dark hair, familiar tilt of the chin. It’sher.I falter mid-line, half a beat late, the note catching in my throat. My fingers freeze on the keys. Rithy glances at me from across the stage, eyes narrowing. He follows my gaze, then spots her too.
Without missing a beat, he slides in, his voice cutting through mine, guitar lifting to carry the next verse. The band shifts around me instinctively, years of practice smoothing the seam where I cracked. Ronan throws me a quick look concern with a touch ofget it together.I do. Or at least, I try.
