Page 33 of For One Night Only

Caleb and I share a look, and understanding passes between us. This is the good stuff, as far as fan interactions go. It’s low pressure, and even though we just met them, they all seem like genuinely nice kids.

“We’re not in any hurry. Do you want to take a seat for a minute?” Caleb asks them gently.

Something about Caleb puts them at ease, and they join us in the booth and start to talk—not about our relationship but about songwriting. We learn they’re all second-year music students at a nearby university, and after some prompting, they have a few polite questions about the industry. Eventually, Aiden is the one to ask us for a group photo.

“If it’s okay with Valerie,” Caleb says.

“Absolutely,” I say, smiling at him. We flag down a staff member, who happily takes a photo with the promise the trio will tag the store.

“Can you wait, like, ten minutes to post that?” Caleb asks, lowering his voice as if to share a secret. “Valerie and I need a little time to make our escape.”

“Of course! We completely understand,” Sophie promises. “You don’t want to get mobbed.”

“I mean, we’re not Beyoncé-famous, but we’ve found it’s usually safest to post where we’vebeen, not where weare,” he says. And then his posture changes. “Actually, you should all do that. You know it’s safer not to share your exact location on social media.”

I laugh. This must be Caleb’s teacher mode, and it’s kind of adorable. And then I remember something.

“Let me get your full names, though, if that’s okay,” I say, pulling out my own phone and opening my Notes app. “VIP sales aren’t up yet, but we should be able to get you on the list.”

“Oh my gosh, are you serious?” Whit asks, raising their hands to their mouth in excitement.

“Absolutely.” I fish one of Wade’s cards out of my purse with my free hand. “If you have any trouble, call this guy.”

After a chorus of thank-yous, the group leaves.

“That’s the part I always loved,” Caleb says quietly. “Talking tofans about the music, knowing it made a difference to them.” Suddenly, I’m filled with memories of all the things we shared. Back when it was just about the music and nothing else. I was so creatively fulfilled when we wrote together, and Caleb challenged me artistically in a way I haven’t felt since.

I wish I could have that back.

“I didn’t realize how much I’ve missed this,” I admit.

“Same,” he says, and those devastating green eyes lock onto mine. I almost think he’s talking about more than fans and cupcakes. For the first time all summer, I feel like we’re on the same page, and I want nothing more than to make this night last.

But I know I can’t.

I clear my throat. “Uh, we should get back to the hotel before that photo goes up.”

He blinks, startling out of our staring contest. “Right. Let’s go.”

10

Caleb

Something transforms in rehearsals over the next few weeks. Valerie and I are on the same team again, and it makes all of this feel possible. The tense practices turn into hours of laser focus and joyful collaboration. After a few painful days of playing bass nonstop, my calluses start building up again too, and it makes it easier and easier to pick my instrument.

One morning, during our last run-through before some Label executives come in to watch us, I realize I’m excited to perform for an audience…despite who it is.

As we run through “Fallout,” I glance around the rehearsal space. Jane winks across her multi-keyboard setup at me, throwing a new synth pad into the mix on a whim. It makes the vibe gritty and fresh. Keeley laughs delightedly at the new sound but doesn’t miss a beat, our strong, ever-steady presence. On the build to the bridge, Riker grins and bounces on his Converse as he takes over Valerie’s lead line.

With a toss of her hair—and another of her guitar over her shoulder—Valerie leans into her mic and sings the high notes withher whole chest. She’s effervescent. My pulse rushes in my ears as I try to focus on harmonizing, but I can’t stop staring at the goddamn rock legend in the making beside me.

She was made for this.

It’s like a switch has flipped over the past few weeks, and I’m seeing both the girl she used to be and someone new entirely. When we’re not rehearsing, she’s been reserved, almost timid, but she’s confidence incarnate every time she steps onto this practice stage. Today, her guitar riffs are crisper than ever, her vocals are crystal clear, and her energy is electric. It doesn’t matter that the floor is dusty and the walls are scuffed—her presence fills the room with light.

And I feel my own confidence returning alongside my longtime collaborator. It’s undeniable—the Glitter Bats are back. The label coming in to scrutinize our progress can’t take this joy of making music away.

Keeley whoops as the final chord rings through the studio. Even with the shitty acoustics of the rehearsal space, I have goose bumps.

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