Page 113 of Take My Hand

HAYDEN

“Good luck tonight. I love you,” Carter says as she kisses me backstage. She adjusts the straps of her bag and loops her camera around her neck, ready to shoot our final show.

Our final show.

Fuck. My stomach rolls with nerves but also some sick sense of dread.

And looking around at Walker, Nikolai, and Reid, I don’t think I’m the only one feeling this way judging by the sickly and melancholy expressions they each wear.

We’re the headliners for this festival's main stage and the anticipation has been building all day. I woke up this morning feeling like I needed to throw up, go for a run, or curl up in bed and shut everything out. Or maybe a combination of all three.

Arun drove the four of us to the venue together, and the car ride was eerily silent. Even Nikolai couldn't bring himself to make idle conversation with anyone. Instead, we all looked out the window at the passing city buildings as we drove out of the city and to the venue in a large, open field on the outskirts of Chicago.

That energy carried over into our greenroom, everyone getting dressed and doing their warmups in their own separate corners. It’s not like we were all ignoring each other; more like we all respected each other enough still at this point to give everyone their own space to process the weight of today.

Now we stand backstage with only a few minutes to show time, stage hands running around to get the stage swapped over for our set and the sound guys getting our in-ears situated.

I run my clammy hands over my black jeans, cracking my neck side to side.

Walker is usually bouncing on his toes by now, shaking out his hands and wrists. Nikolai is usually pacing the small space, doing his vocal warmups and stretching. Reid is usually cracking his knuckles and doing his sixty-second mindfulness.

But instead, we’re all standing around, awkwardly shifting from foot to foot, looking for a distraction anywhere we can find it.

Anything else to focus on besides each other and the fact that this is the last time we’ll ever step out on stage together.

Ten fucking years and here we are.

Walker clears his throat, garnering our attention, and he waves his hands toward his body for us to come closer. “I know we haven’t done this in a while, but I think for today, we can all agree we need it.”

I walk up next to him, looping an arm around one of his shoulders and holding out the other for Nikolai or Reid to step under.

Nikolai steps up without hesitation, eyes shining with unshed tears. He goes to Walker’s other side and holds out his hand to Reid, who pauses, debating on whether or not to join.

“C’mon, man, one last time,” Nikolai pleads, and Reid ducks his head, walking over and laying his arm across my shoulder and Nikolai’s, completing our circle.

We all tuck our foreheads close, blocking out everyone and everything. The noise of the crowd, the chatter of the festival workers, the in-ear tests coming through our monitors, none of it matters.

My chest rises and falls heavily, matching the breath of my brothers. No one speaks for a moment, letting us all fall into our own atmosphere, just like the old days.

Four puzzle pieces clicking together, completing each other.

No one dares to bother us as we hold one another. Not Arun, who eyes I can feel watching us from the shadow of the wings. Not Scar, who flew out from her own show in Las Vegas to be here to support Walker. Not Jane, who has been with us since the beginning of this band and is trying to hold back tears of her own as she watches us. Not Carter, whose camera lens I can see out of the corner of my eye snapping photos of us.

Is this a moment I’ll want to remember forever? The last time we do this? These might be photos that will sit untouched in my email for a long, long time.

Because I don’t want to see the heartbreak that undoubtedly fills my face and I don’t want to see it again on the faces of my best friends.

“I don’t know what to say, honestly,” Walker says, a humorless laugh at the end of words. “I know I’m normally the one to lead this shit, but I…” He shakes his head, sniffling once and ducking his chin toward the ground to hide his face.

I give his shoulder a squeeze of acknowledgment and support.

“Well, I guess we knew this had to come to an end at some point. We’ve had a hell of a run, boys,” Nikolai says, jumping in. But unlike Walker, he doesn’t try to hide his emotion. He tilts his chin up and looks around at the four of us as tears slip down his face, making the blue in his eyes shine. “I’m proud of us.” His lip wobbles as he says it, and he bites the inside of his cheek.

I want to say something, words climbing up my throat and fighting to be released, but how do you sum up ten years of history? What is there to say when all you want to do is scream because you’re scared? These guys have been a constant in my life, this band has been a constant in my life, through the dark times and the good times. And I’m just supposed to say goodbye to all of it?

I don’t know how to do that.

“You guys have been my family.” Reid’s voice surprises me, and I turn to my left to look at him. His face is stony, but I can see the tension in his jaw and the way he grinds his teeth back and forth as if that will keep the emotion at bay for him. “When I didn’t have anyone, I always had the three of you. And not only you, but your families too. I don’t know if I would’ve made it here today without it all, and everything aside, I just wanted you guys to know that.”

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