Page 255 of My Three Billionaire Rockstars

The craziest part?

I kind of love it.

Not the fame, exactly. That still feels strange.

There are still moments where cameras flashing unexpectedly make my stomach tighten or where strangers recognizing me in airports feels deeply unnatural.

But I’m getting used to it.

Or maybe, I’m getting used to them.

Having Xander’s hand at the small of my back in crowded spaces. Julian making me laugh whenever things start feeling overwhelming. Gabe stepping between me and everything else before I even realize I need him to.

The press has calmed down, too.

Mostly because The Last Rebels reunion completely hijacked the media cycle exactly the way Gabe predicted it would.

Now every entertainment site on earth seems obsessed with Dylan and Xander rebuilding their relationship, the new album, the sold-out world tour, The Lonely Ones’ new single, and Redemption Records exploding into one of the hottest labels in the industry practically overnight.

Which means fewer headlines about me. And the ones that are about me are much easier to deal with.

Thank goodness.

Though the internet still refers to me as “the Redemption Falls girl,” which sounds vaguely like an urban legend. I’m choosing not to unpack that.

Tonight’s show was in Chicago.

Massive venue. Completely sold out.

And judging by the screaming still echoing faintly through the backstage corridors, The Last Rebels absolutely destroyed the place.

Again.

I stand near the side stage curtain watching the final crowd filter out while crew members break equipment down around us.

The adrenaline after a show is weirdly contagious.

Everything backstage buzzes. Exhaustion mixed with excitement. Sweat and laughter and noise.

Dylan’s currently arguing with a lighting technician about whether setting off additional pyro “for the vibe” should count as a fire hazard.

It should.

Meanwhile Julian has somehow stolen half the catering table and is constructing what appears to be a sandwich with no structural integrity.

“Vegetables are important,” I tell him.

“This has lettuce.”

“That’s one leaf.”

“Nutrition is about balance.”

Gabe walks past us carrying two laptops and a coffee despite the fact it’s nearly midnight.

“How are you still conscious?” I ask.

He doesn’t even look up. “Spite.”