Page 70 of Goodbye Note

“Want me to help?” Varian appeared from nowhere and made me jump.

“Where the fuck were you hiding?” I put my hands up like Karate Kid.

“You will never be Daniel. Don’t play.”

“I could be if I found my own Mr. Miyagi and had six to nine years.”

“SIXTY-NINE YEARS?” Koa jumped between us.

Varian burst into laughter. “Good one.” He fist-bumped Koa.

“I don’t know what’s worse, that you got his joke or that Koa brought the DVD with us on the bus.”

“No shame in watching cartoons, bro!” Koa grinned, pleased someone got his weird humor for once.

“Do you want me?” Varian asked again.

Ser waved the guitar tech over and got Varian one of his guitars. “We don’t have time to get yours, and what are you going to do for a mic?”

“We all have our preferences, but a guitar is a guitar.” Varian let the tech put it over his head and then looked right into my eyes. “I’ll share the backup mic with Arik.”

I fought a smile. “Whatever. You don’t get to complain about my filthy mouth later.”

“I know where it’s been.”

“Are you sure about that?” I asked, lifting my chin.

Doubt flicked in his eyes. “Big talk for someone who had me in his bunk all afternoon.”

The rest of the guys looked at me.

“I will not apologize for cuddling my best friend!” I shot right back, not caring what the other guys thought.

But it didn’t have the desired effect on Varian. He stared at me for a moment, then walked out onstage, minutes before our call.

“What the fuck is he doing?” Ser asked, trying to grab the back of his shirt, but he was too slow.

I stood speechless, not sure what to do.

“Since all of you helped Second Star’s single go number one, what do you think about helping them celebrate?” Varian said into the mic before the lights were even on.

The crowd erupted.

“I was thinking we should sing it to get them out here early. What do you think?” He held a hand to his ear as he turned to look at us in the wings. “Give ‘em what they want, boys.”

We joined him onstage, and the lights came up, the crew finally realizing what we were doing. The rest of the entire venue was silent. All eyes turned toward us.

Like God endorsed the move.

Varian hummed low, starting the opening word and drawing it out.

Ser joined him.

I played the intro, and my fingers were working from memory because my brain was not firing; it was too fixed on Varian. He sang into my mic, but his eyes weren’t on the crowd like when he normally sang. He looked right at me.

I took my place next to him as the chorus came up, our lips an inch apart. My voice came breathy, not quite on key, and he smiled, letting it bleed into his voice.

Our shoulders brushed as I straightened after finishing my backup.

---