Page 52 of Midnight Stage

He doesn’t try to walk back to his car. We just stand there in the middle of the bar’s loading area. “Sooo,” he starts, his tone laced with hesitation as he drops a kiss to my temple. “The guys kinda wanna go to this dive bar across town to keep celebrating. Apparently, there are some girls there that Rock knows, and he’s been wanting to meet up with them.”

“Oh,” I say, pulling out of his arms and feeling all of my hopes for tonight catch fire and burn to ashes at my feet. I try to force a smile across my face, not wanting him to feel guilted to spend the night with me if he’d rather celebrate with the guys, something he should absolutely do. But his tone is clear, it’s not something I’ll be invited to. I’m too young, and unlike these guys who can somehow walk into any bar or club without even a hint of being asked for ID, I don’t seem to have the same advantages. “You wanna go?”

“Yeah, I mean, nights like this don’t just happen every day.”

“Okay yeah, I’m kinda tired anyway,” I tell him, struggling to hold the smile on my face as I feel my eyes beginning to prick with tears.

“Alright, cool,” he says, digging his hand into his pocket and grabbing his car keys. He hands them to me with a stupid wink that almost has me wanting to forgive him. “Don’t wreck her.”

My brow arches as I stare at the keys in my hand. He knows damn well I’m not supposed to drive without a supervising adult yet. After all, he and Axel are the ones who’ve been teaching me, but I suppose Ezra’s never really been the type to follow the rules. I mean, falling in love with his best friend’s little sister and writing songs about all the things he wants to do to her is definitely breaking a few. “And if I get pulled over?”

Ezra grins as he starts walking backward to the van. “Then drive it like you stole it, baby.”

And with that, he disappears into the back of the van, but before I can even say goodbye, Rock hits the gas, taking off like a bat out of hell and leaving me alone in the empty loading area, desperately wishing for the millionth time that things could have been different.

Then because going home to spend the night alone in my house with my father is no longer an option, I slide into Ezra’s car and take off, not stopping until I pull up at the secluded lake where I pictured us spending the night together. As the moonlight glimmers against the still water, I allow the tears to roll down my face, hating the way my heart shatters.

19

Ezra

Our opening act wraps their set to a full house in Paris, and the roar of the crowd sends mixed feelings coursing through my veins. I’m pumped for the show. There’s only ever been two places I’ve truly felt at home, and that was on a stage or with Raleigh wrapped in my arms. But I never imagined that I’d be performing without Axel.

I’ve had two years to process that he’s gone, and I knew this day was going to come, but it still feels so fucking wrong. How am I supposed to look across the stage and see Jett instead of Ax? Don’t get me wrong, I’ll still put on the best show for the Parisians, but the whole time, there will be something . . . someone missing.

On the other hand, watching Rae dominate backstage just like she used to for our early gigs has me ready to throw her up against a wall for a whole new reason. The other night in her hotel room, I was a wreck. The day had been too much. I thought I could handle it, but being that close to her and feeling as though she were a stranger didn’t sit right with me.

I sense a darkness in her. Something has made her cold, and it’s more than just me and Ax abandoning her in Michigan. Something else left scars on her heart, and it kills me, but I’m not in a position to ask. Maybe this is what Axel had been sensing in those weeks before his death.

He had planned to visit her at college, though judging by the way he was talking, it was more of an intervention than a visit. He was going to find out what had her all messed up, make it better, and then return so we could complete this part of the tour. But that trip to visit her at college never happened.

The thought makes my hand shoot up to clasp Axel’s ring that’s hanging from a chain and resting over my heart. A wave of agonizing guilt rocks through me as I grip the cool metal.

That day fucking destroyed me, and now I somehow have to walk onto that stage as though everything is right in the world.

Fuck this. I was never supposed to do this without him.

Needing just a shred of normalcy, I watch Rae move around, ordering people into positions and making sure everything runs smoothly. It’s not her job, we have specific people to do this, but clearly she’s doing a hell of a better job at it than they ever have. She’s punctual and precise and not afraid to tell people to get fucked when they’re in the wrong, especially me.

This version of Rae reminds me of the girl I used to adore, the one who would barge into schools she didn’t attend and throw flyers down the stairwell, the girl who would so bravely call record labels and tell them they’re idiots for not having signed us already, the girl who would champion for us at every fucking turn. But that girl had her heart broken, and I don’t think she’ll ever be the same.

She hates me.

She looked me dead in the fucking eyes and told me that despite how much she’s loved me all of these years, she hates me, and those words crippled me in a way I’ll never be able to come back from.

She fucking hates me.

The agony of it all cascades over me, plunging me into a world of darkness, and as Rae makes her way over to Rock and Dylan, checking to see how they’re doing, all I can do is turn away.

There are fifteen minutes until we’re due on stage, and I weave my way through the backstage area until I find our dressing room. I barge through and crash down onto the small couch, hating that I see my reflection in the shitty mirror directly across from me.

Who the fuck places a mirror right there? I’m trying to avoid myself, not be forced to come face-to-face with it.

I’m a fucking joke. A fraud.

I look the part. Ripped black jeans with a barely buttoned shirt. Tattoos on display. Chains and rings and my signature messy hair. I’m the exact picture of what that roaring crowd out there has come to expect, but inside, everything is crumbling. Every day, I lose another piece of myself, and I’m not sure how much longer I can do this.

If Ax were here, he’d know how to make it right. Hell, if Ax were here, I wouldn’t be in this position. The tour would be over. We would have already released another album and already be hammering out the details of another world tour.

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