Page 2 of New Year's Faye

A) Technical difficulties

B) Weather issues

C) Fan incidents

D) Justice finding the tequila

Current Status: T-minus ten minutes to midnight

Threat Level: Manageable

Personal Note: Stop touching your dress. It'sfine!

Ismoothed down my red dress for the hundredth time, scanning the packed venue from my position in the wings of the stage. The Wild Ones had the crowd eating from their hands—as if there'd been any doubt. Energy pulsed through the room like a living beast, tingling your skin and making your heart race, whipping the crowd into a frenzy as the clock counted down to the new year.

Chars, the heart of Astipia, transformed for New Year’s Eve. The stage was set up right in front of the Palace, with glittering high-rises and historic brick buildings looming around us like silent witnesses, their windows glowing faintly in the winternight. It had that familiar, exhilarating bustle you might find in London, where history and modernity collided in a rush of light and energy.

Overhead, strings of lights crisscrossed the streets, hanging from lampposts and building facades, bathing everything in a warm, golden glow that contrasted sharply with the icy breeze. Snow had dusted the city earlier, and now remnants clung stubbornly to the sidewalks, crunching into slush underfoot. The winter air held a sharpness that seeped through even the thickest coat, but no one seemed to mind. Not tonight. Tonight, the cold was just part of the magic.

The Wild Ones owned the stage, each of them seeming larger than life against the vast, glittering city backdrop. The crowd was a living, breathing mass, bundled in coats, scarves, and hats, but still moving, swaying, reaching toward the band as if trying to grab onto the last notes of the song that throbbed through the speakers. The energy was palpable, a crackling, pulsing force that made my skin tingle and my heart race, the crowd feral as the clock counted down to midnight.

Nine minutes and thirteen seconds to go.

Justice’s voice rose and fell with the perfect blend of raw edge and polished charm, like he knew exactly which notes would crawl under your skin and stay there. The opening chords of the band’s newest single,Midnight Kiss, echoed through the arena, making every heartbeat in the crowd sync with the pulsing bass. The irony of the song's title wasn’t lost on me—especially not as I stood in the shadows at the edge of the stage, watching Justice work his magic. A dozen women in the front row were utterly transfixed, eyes wide, mouths parted, leaning toward him as though he might pull them into his orbit with a single glance.

Each one looked like they were desperate to be his midnight kiss.

He looked every bit the rockstar tonight, the soft glow of the stage lights casting shadows along the sharp angles of his face. His black suit clung to him, tailored perfectly to his lean frame, though he’d discarded his jacket halfway through the set, tossing it into the sea of hands reaching for him. His dark dress shirt was unbuttoned just enough to hint at the tattoos peeking out from beneath.

Radley caught my eye from behind her drum kit, as she launched into a solo that was as fierce and unpredictable as she was. She tossed me a wink, her curls—once neatly arranged—now wild and untamed, framing her face as she poured herself into each beat. Her body moved with the music, like she and the drums were one entity, driving the energy in the room higher and higher.

And then there was Felix. The red-haired bassist played his guitar with the smoothness of a man twice his age. His bass lines slithered through the air, low and seductive, a current beneath the melody that you could feel in your bones. The steady, deep hum of the bass wrapped around the audience until they weren’t just listening to the music—they were part of it, lost somewhere between the thrill of the performance and the ache of watching someone you can’t quite reach.

But it was Sam who drew my gaze like a magnet.

He moved across the stage like he was born to be there, each step and gesture effortless yet purposeful, his fingers dancing over the guitar strings with a feverish intensity. His hands moved so fast, it was as if they were possessed by some otherworldly force, channelling something raw and electric with each note. His bow tie, once neat at the start of the show, now hung loosely around his neck, a forgotten relic of formality in the heat of his performance. The collar of his crisp white dress shirt lay open just enough to reveal a hint of the lean muscles beneath,the fabric clinging to his shoulders and chest in the hot glow of the stage lights—a contrast to the cold winter nights air.

Under the spotlights, he seemed to glow, a halo of golden light casting shadows along the contours of his jaw and the high cheekbones that only seemed sharper under the intensity of his concentration. He closed his eyes, and it was like he let go of something, sinking deeper into the music. The slight furrow in his brow softened, replaced by an expression of pure, unguarded passion.

He bent his head, and his dark brown hair fell forward, tumbling across his forehead in a way that I knew would drive his fans wild.

There were social media pages dedicated to his fringe.

I lifted my phone, snapping off pictures for their socials. As their marketing and public relations manager, it was my job to make them look good 24/7. And even though it was New Year’s Eve, this was one of our biggest events of the entire year—which meant that my job wouldn’t be done until they were all safely tucked in their beds.

I panned to the crowd, capturing their ecstatic energy.

Nights like this made the sacrifice worthwhile.

"Five minutes to countdown!" Liz, my assistant, chirped through my earpiece. "Everyone in position?"

I tapped my mic. "Copy that. Main stage is secured."

The band closed out their next song and the lights blinked out, bathing the stage in darkness. I blinked rapidly, watching as the band reset, getting ready for their final song.

This one had to be timed perfectly, and the clock at the front of the stage was the watch by which we lived and died tonight. There could be no mistakes.

"Two minutes!"

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