Page 67 of Giving Chase

"They've been ready. Just waiting for me to get my shit together." He pulls his hand back, runs it through his hair. "Look, I know it's asking a lot. The band signing with Blackmore again while we're together. But maybe that's exactly why it could work. No more pretending. No more blurred lines. Everything professional stays professional. Everything personal stays personal."

"Like we did such a good job of that before," I can't help teasing.

"But that's just it – we did. For fifteen years, through all our... our mess, the band never suffered from it. The label never suffered. If anything, any suffering was caused byme. We kept those lines clear even when everything else was chaos." He leans forward. "We're better at this now. Smarter. More mature."

"Says the man who just announced our relationship to the entire industry without warning."

His laugh is warm. "Okay, slightly more mature."

I study him in the candlelight. The clarity in his eyes. The steady hands. The man I always knew he could be.

"James is good," I say slowly. "One of our best up-and-coming managers. But he's never handled a band of your caliber."

"Perfect time to learn, then." His smile widens. "While we're learning too. How to do this right. All of it."

"The board will have opinions."

"The board always has opinions. But they also like profits. And an Incendiary Ink comeback? Sober, stable, with fresh material?" He raises an eyebrow. "That's profit waiting to happen."

He's right. Of course, he's right.

"You're really ready for this?" I ask softly. "All of it? The pressure, the publicity, the scrutiny? Especially now that we're public?"

"I'm ready for anything." His hand finds mine again. "As long as I get to come home to you at the end of it."

The city lights shimmer beyond the window. Twenty years of history pulse between us. But for the first time, the future feels brighter than the past.

"Play me something?" I ask. "Just a taste?"

He pulls out his phone, hands me an earbud. "Rough demo. Will recorded it last week."

The opening notes fill my ear – something new, something bright. Something that sounds like hope and healing and love finally getting it right.

"It's beautiful," I whisper.

"It's yours." He smiles. "They all are. They always were."

Tomorrow brings the ceremony, the induction, the weight of history. But right now, sharing earbuds in a candlelit room while new music plays between us, we're just Chase and Eliza.

Finally figuring out how to be both.

‘Cause I Know You’re the One

CHASE

"If you adjustthose rings one more time," Will says from the hotel suite's couch, his leather jacket creaking as he leans back, "I'm going to throw them out the window."

"They need to be in the right order."

"They're fine," Mark calls from the bathroom, where he's trying to get his shirt cuffs to show off his sleeves just right. "Unlike my hair, which is refusing to cooperate."

"Your hair hasn't cooperated since 1998," Will shoots back, spinning a drumstick between his fingers.

The suite buzzes with pre-ceremony energy. Mark's array of hair products covering every flat surface. My black Alexander McQueen suit with its subtle silver threading laid out like armor. Will's custom leather pieces and Mark's strategically ripped designer wear waiting their turn.

My phone buzzes. A text from Justin.

JUSTIN: Mom looks incredible. You're gonna lose your mind.

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