Page 74 of Siren's Heart

"God, this is a nightmare," I mumble, and Kayla shakes her head. On the way out, she grabs a champagne flute and hands it to me wordlessly.

Alcohol before the show is a bad idea, but a sip to alleviate my nerves? Hell fucking yes! I force myself not to gulp down the whole thing and put the half-full glass back on the table before we hurry downstairs to get ready.

People scurry around us, someone hands me my bedazzled microphone, and before I know it, we're on our platform lift under the stage, waiting to be elevated onto it.

"Millie," Kayla says, nudging my shoulder when she realizes I'm biting my thumbnail again. "Relax. You are talented, are amazing, and you're going to rock this."

"I'll still just be happy when it's over," I answer her, my voice shaking with anxiety. How is she so cool? Does the number of people not affect her at all? "Same goes for you, by the way. You’re amazing."

"I know," she winks at me, and I take her outstretched hand as the lift jerks under our feet. “Now, let's enchant them."

I'm on autopilot throughout our whole performance. Thank God I know our lyrics like the back of my hand. I don't manage to conquer the part of the choreography I was struggling with, forgetting to look at the camera as I'm too focused on my steps in order to not fall on my butt.

But I did it! And I didn't get booed off the stage. In fact, people cheered, and I saw several banners and signs with the campaign hashtag. And I managed not to break into tears. If anything, that's my win for the day.

When the music dwindles down after we hit our last note, and I take out my in-ear monitors, I startle at the sheer volume of the applause and cheers Kayla and I receive. My smile is so wide my face hurts, and I'm exhausted, but even through my ragged breaths, I manage to hug Kayla and press out an "Oh my God, we did it!" Only once my arms are around her do I remember that she doesn't like hugs.

But she hugs me back, exciting laughter bubbling out of her. "And we were amazing!"

She takes my hand, and we walk to the front of the stage to take a bow before the lift, which will let us disappear under the stage as we wave at the crowd.

"Oh my God, oh my God, Kayla, we fucking did it!" The realization settles, and I can't contain my happiness, bouncing around her, my hair flying through the air. "Oh my fucking God."

Kayla chuckles and pushes me back into the stadium's backstage labyrinth, where two familiar faces are already waiting for us. As soon as we come out from under the stage, some kind of camera is on us, but I don't give a fuck.

When I see Luca, I push my microphone into someone's chest and just hope they catch it when I let go, before I run over to him and throw my arms around his neck, making him sigh and stumble back a few steps until he catches his balance. He returns the hug immediately, a proud laughter making his whole body rumble.

"You were so great on stage," he says, his voice full of pride and admiration etched into his face, hugging me so tightly I struggle to breathe, in a good way, and lifting me off the ground. "God, I loved watching you up there. You absolutely killed it, Sunshine!"

I can't reply with anything but bubbling laughter and, finally tears breaking out of me. My emotions are all over the place. I'm happy it's over. I’m still pumped and full of adrenaline from the show, and at the same time, the realization that it's over is beginning to settle in.

I shove those thoughts aside. It's not time to worry about the future yet. Luca sets me down again, and once my feet hit the ground, I grab his face and pull it to mine. Our grinning lips meet in a quick kiss that is nothing less than electric.

Someone shouting Luca's name from behind him causes us to break our kiss, but he manages to press his lips against my forehead before running after Asher back to their locker rooms.

"Do you feel better now?" Kayla asks, relief written all over her face as well.

"Hell yes," I say and start bouncing again. There's way too much happy energy inside me to stay still. “I feel perfect.”

"Come on. Let's go change and watch the rest of the game with your parents."

"The stars of the day!" My Mom greets both of us when we finally walk into the family VIP booth Naroa reserved for them. Both of us have changed into jeans and jerseys with our boyfriends' numbers on them, our faces still heavy with makeup and hair not moving an inch thanks to all the hairspray.

I grin at my parents and step into their hugs, chuckling when they beckon Kayla over to include her.

"You girls were wonderful out there," Mom gushes, looking at us with tears in her eyes. "How do the young people say it? You had a meal?"

"We ate?" Kayla laughs and accepts Mom's hug, and she doesn't even grimace. God, I’m so proud of her.

"And we left no damn crumbs," I add, and we break into laughter. God, I feel too old to talk like this.

"Right. That," Mom says with a chuckle, laying her hands on my shoulders. "How are you doing, Millie? We were worried for a minute there."

"Better," I tell her with a nod, my smile tightening the slightest bit.

It's been a strange few days. For once, I opened social media without fear of only seeing negative shit about me written everywhere. In fact, after Luca left for his training and I left the doctor’s office, I spent the whole afternoon scrolling through the web.

Asher's campaign really snowballed, from celebs I've worked with writing encouraging words, to fans chiming in. Even some of Kayla’s fans brought up how gracious I was about them taking their picture with her instead of being salty. Truth be told, that's the bare minimum in my book, but seeing it appreciated when it stabbed my heart like a tiny needle… feels good. Cleansing, even.

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