Page 114 of The Sounds of Her

Chapter Twenty-Five

“Perth! Are you ready to rock the shit out of this place?” The crowd screams and Adam laughs into the mic. “We need to raise the roof tonight. This is the last show of our world tour!”

More screaming ensues. I can’t believe we’ve made it to the final show. We’re all exhausted, ready for the long break we have coming up, but when we’re on stage, I will always be on top of the world.

“Is everyone feeling good?” Adam shouts. “This is the first time we’ve played here, and we’re so fucking happy to be here. Do you want to make us come back Perth!”

He glances back at Jordan, who counts us in for the extended intro to Never After You. There will be a huge explosion of light and flames firing up from the front of the stage as the song kicks in for real. For now we play along, laughing as Adam gets the different sides of the arena to scream as much as they can, so he can decide which section is the loudest.

It’s the same thing we do at every show, but each time it thrills the shit out of me. I love that this many people care enough about our music to scream their lungs out along with every song.

Adam struts the stage as the music lowers, and he sings the first section of the song. The crowd screams the lyrics with him. On the gigantic screens, the camera follows him as he walks. He loves this shit, the stresses and troubles in the real world all disappear when we’re on stage.

He walks to me and wraps an arm around my neck, careful not to interfere with my playing, but it makes the crowd go wild. As he steps away, he sings louder, and positions himself where he won’t be hurt by the flames. The count beats down in my ears and the three of us let rip, the flames fly, Adam screams and the crowd roars.

I’ll never get over this.

The rest of the show goes off just as energetic and full of noise. We do three encores and then it’s over.

Everyone is screaming and high fiving as we exit the stage. Jordan jumps up on Nick’s shoulders and hangs off him. Someone passes around champagne and whiskey bottles and camera flashes are going off all around us.

I enjoy the atmosphere and join in the excitement, but my mind is on tomorrow. We’re flying back to New York. It may take us a full day to get home, but my excitement is mounting for another reason.

Even with the time difference, I’ve kept in touch with Brooke, maybe not as much as I would like. She still hasn’t spoken to her asshole parents. Part of me is glad, I’d rather be near when that happens.

It’s not going to be as easy as it turned out to be with Roman and his dad. When she told me all about it I was as stunned as her. Even though it’s a win, I still hear the undertones in her voice. Roman and his dad were the easy part.

She’s thrown herself into her work and I’ve spent the last week worrying about her being alone with those thoughts, and the daunting task of speaking to her fuckwit parents. I’m worried about the Brooke I’m going to find when we get back to New York.

My thoughts are consumed with seeing her. The last ten days without her here have done nothing to diminish what I want. I never expected to feel like this, I thought we could play our parts, get her out of her shit, then we would go back to how we were before. But how can I do that?

Brooke saved me. She stopped me from slipping into a depression I didn’t realise was creeping up on me. Spending time with her, getting to know the demons she holds inside of her, released mine.

She trusts me with her pain, and I trust her with mine.

It’s a foreign feeling to me, missing someone, and longing to see their face.

I only hope once I’m back in New York, she agrees to keep this going while she figures out shit with her parents. I want to convince her to see if it will work once we’re back to the reality of our lives. To take a chance. To be mine for real.

By the time we board the jet the next day, we’re all fucked. There was an epic after-party at a local nightclub, and I didn’t shy away from joining in with everyone, so we’re all hungover to shit. It doesn’t help that Bianca is on the flight with us.

No one expected her to show up but when she did, Dale disappeared.

Not to the bottom of the ocean like Jordan suggested, but there was a huge fuck up on his watch. As annoying as B is, she cares about us and our safety.

I sleep for a good twelve hours on the first leg of the flight and after stopping to refuel and get some food, I sleep another six.

By the time we touch down at JFK, I’m half dead from too much sleep. We head straight to the apartment and while Nick crashes, I use our gym to liven my shit up. I call my dad and brothers to tell them I’m back. Then I text Brooke.

Archer: Dinner tonight?

I hold my breath like a fucking teenager waiting for her to message me back. When nothing comes immediately, I force myself to toss the phone on the kitchen counter and make a fruit smoothy. When a text comes, I almost spill everything out of the blender.

Nick comes into the room at that very moment, and lifts his brows, when I set the blender down and grab my phone.

“Tell Brooke I said hi,” he laughs.

“Fuck off,” I tell him, turning my back.

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