“You’re drunk,” I mumble. “Sober, you’d feel differently.”
“Maybe,” he says, smiling faintly. “But I see straight right now.” He leans down and plants a kiss on my forehead before leaving the glass on the nightstand and stumbling off down the hall, still humming.
I lie there, listening to the fireworks outside, to the laughter drifting up from downstairs. The ceiling spins. My heart does too.
In the dark, I whisper to no one, “Sometimes it feels like I gave my life for theirs.”
The words vanish into the air, but the ache stays deep and alive.
Chapter 72
Cartoons & Coloring Books
Rafe
We’re running sound at the KS Dome, the kind of place that makes everything echo too much, guitars, laughter, even breathing. The crew’s been at it since morning. Cables everywhere, the smell of cheap coffee and dust thick in the air.
The girls fromRåvindare onstage tweaking harmonies, their Valkyrie-bright voices bouncing off the rafters. I’m slumped on a road case beside Kiri, coffee gone lukewarm in my hand, pretending to check notes on my phone while the others argue over set pacing.
Freja drapes herself across Ronan’s shoulders, whispering something that makes him laugh, that soft, stupid grin that means he’s completely gone for her. The sight hits me in two directions: warmth with a sting. I love seeing him happy, but it hurts. That easy closeness, the touch without thought. What I had. What I keep trying not to miss.
Rithy’s sketching on the back of a setlist. The girls flop into the seats in front of us during a tech reset, joking with Freja about costumes andSeoul humidity. For a second, it feels normal, music, friends, motion. Then Kiri’s phone lights up beside me.
A notification flashes across the screen: Natalia.
Then the picture. It’s a selfie, half-smile, messy hair, off-shoulder sweater that doesn’t quite stay where it should. Flirty, young. My stomach flips, the sound in the room disappearing under the rush in my ears. More than that, it’s Kasia’s sister.
I catch his smirk out of the corner of my eye. I’m already moving. I snatch the phone out of his hand before the words are done.
“What the hell is this?”
“Give it back,” he says, laughing, reaching for it like it’s no big deal.
Ronan looks up from the kit. “What’s going on?”
I scroll, thumb shaking. More messages, texts, emojis, little hearts. Late-night photos, private jokes. The kind of back-and-forth that only happens when two people are already half-in.
I hold the screen out toward Rithy. “You see this? After Kasia’s parents threatened to disown her for what we brought to their doorstep, this idiot is sending her sister messages. Have a fucking look.”
He leans over, reads, rolling his eyes. “A hot influencer is a dime a dozen, so you pickher sister?”
He stops because I’m still holding the phone, because he can see what’s about to happen.
I meet Kiri’s eyes, all cold calculation and rage. “You want it back?”
For a second, he actually nods.
I drop it, then step down. The crack of glass echoes across the stage. I twist my heel until the screen shatters completely, then let a smile creep across my face so he sees exactly how satisfied it makes me feel.
“That’ll stop you fucking messaging her, at least for today.”
Kiri lunges. Ronan’s there in a blink, his drum sticks clatter to the ground, he catches him by the shoulders just in time. “Oi! Enough!”
Kiri’s face is pure fury, voice rough. “You’ve lost your goddamn mind over her!”
“No,” I say, stepping closer, voice low. “I’ve just finally seen what’sin yours.You’ll do whatever it takes to keep that ego fed. You’re a fucking joke.”
Rithy moves between us, one arm out to each side. “Kiri, stop. Rafe, back off.”
