Page 192 of Lyric & the Heartbeats

The crowd cheered, and their screams became muffled as she put her monitors back in. It was as if she’d dunked her head under water, hearing everything from a distance though they were right in front of her. The thrum of the bass line began their next song, and she let it flow through her. Like giddiness had been since she’d opened her first gift.

As she parted her lips and let her voice ring out through the venue, the music curling around them and the audience to wrap them all up in a single mesmerizing moment, Lyric was the happiest she’d ever been.

The music seemed more beautiful. The lights seemed to burn brighter, hotter, as she danced around the stage. She stripped her jacket off and tossed it side stage, wiped the sweat off her forehead, and grinned.

“You’re electric tonight, guys,” Lyric said into the microphone.

“I think that’s all you, Lyric.” Nohen’s voice rang through her monitors, and she turned a grin in his direction.

“Or maybe it’s you guys!” she argued. “Don’t sell yourself short.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Desi replied into her mic. “We’re fuckin’ awesome!”

The crowd cheered at Desi’s declaration, and Lyric couldn’t agree more.

“Give it up for the heart of the show, my band!” Lyric called, and threw out an arm, stepping to the side and bowing. “Thank you guys for joining me on tour. These have been the best six weeks of my life.”

Her lips wouldn’t stop curling, her cheeks hurt, but she didn’t care. She was just so… full. Of life, of happiness. Of giddiness. Of love?

She wanted to laugh at her own sappiness, but they still had a show to play.

“Let’s end this night right,” she said into the mic. “I hope you’re ready to dance!”

The crowd screamed even louder, and she was suddenly thankful for her in-ear monitors. The first few rows seemed especially rowdy, shoving and pressing against the barricades.

Gripping the mic tightly in her fist, she turned and, as the beat of the drums thumped through the venue and vibrated her feet, she danced toward her bassist.

The final song of the set was fitting. She’d written it about beginnings and endings, and she wondered if the Lyric who’d scribbled desperately in her book would ever imagine she’d be performing it in her current circumstances.

She almost chuckled in the middle of the chorus. The Lyric who’d written this song wouldn’t have believed she’d end up here.

Lyric danced with Emerson, running her hands through the long strands of his hair and watching his fingers dance over the strings of his guitar. She spun with Adra on his keyboard stand, the lights and crowd spinning around and around them until she was even more drunk than before.

Nohen was there to catch her of course, her safe, beautiful beta. When she turned back to the crowd, her hand lingering on Nohen’s arm, she found the crowd dancing and singing right alongside her.

But amongst the thousands of fans celebrating their last night on stage, Lyric’s attention was turned to the front row.

No, even before that. The pit, where barricade guards usually stood, was empty. Henry ushered the last guard out and stood like a solid wall between the crowd and the stage. Javier was alongside him.

Lyric shot them a single confused glance before focusing back on the music. She let the last few seconds of the song fade into a mess of chaotic instruments, dancing and shaking her head. A confetti cannon exploded, raining tiny colored pieces of paper. It reflected the lights, and it seemed like fireflies were spinning around the room, drifting to the crowd.

The room was spinning when the lights went down all at once, and she lowered her head. Her breath was loud in her ears, her pulse was heavy in her veins, and her heart was pounding.

It was over.

Lyric suddenly wanted to cry. Eyes burning, she lifted her head and swallowed roughly, staring out at the crowd, at all the people from her hometown who had come to see her at the last show. She tore out her in-ears to listen to the screams reverberate around the venue. More than anything, she wanted to remember this moment forever.

“Thank you for coming!” Lyric called into her mic.

The lights slowly came back up, and in all the chaos of the confetti, the crowd, the stagehands lowering the black shade to separate her from the crowd, Lyric met Henry’s gaze.

A fire burned in them, one that took her breath away, and she tightened her fist around the mic or else she would have dropped it.

In sync, Henry and Javier planted their palms on the stage, and in one smooth, fluid move, lifted themselves up. The black curtain fell just as they got to their feet and began stalking in her direction.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

Heat blanketed her back, and she turned her head to look up at… Emerson.