Page 91 of For One Night Only

The applause that roars when we’re finished shocks me back to reality. Time to thank everyone and head into the grand finale: “Midnight Road Trip.” And then when they beg us for one more song, we’ll come out with a cover of “I Want You to Want Me” that fades into “All the Lips You Kiss.”

We swap out our guitars with waiting techs and plug back in, and Valerie returns to her microphone as planned. After the applause fades, we’re supposed to shout out Wade and the crew and then launch right into “Midnight Road Trip.”

But she doesn’t launch into thank-yous like she’s supposed to.

She just pauses a minute, then squares her shoulders. “Tonight has been really special. As a band, we value our fans so much. It’sbecause of you that we’re allowed to keep doing this. This industry is hard, and some days it really feels like…well, we’re just incredibly lucky to be here with the best fans in the world. We want to make this a night to remember.”

My stomach flips. But the crowd erupts, and Valerie waits for the noise to subside as I try to make sense of what this is. I glance around at the rest of the band. Keeley’s face is a careful mask, but I catch the tick in her jaw. Riker’s brow furrows. Jane gapes, then covers it quickly with a smile.

They’re just as baffled as I am.

“Daydreams Like This” was our big surprise, the special reveal no one expected, and we sang it. We’ve got nothing left.

We’re not supposed to pause here.

I have no idea where she’s taking us, but I do know one thing for certain—this wasn’t in the plan.

28

Valerie

I don’t have a plan yet, but all eyes are on me.

Usually, it’s Caleb who vamps, and I feel a little unmoored as I scramble to arrange my thoughts. But Caleb stares at me as much as everyone else, confusion darkening his heavily lined eyes. I nod at him in what I hope is a reassuring way before unclipping my mic from the stand. I feel the weight of his gaze, but I tear my eyes away as I step closer to the pit, knowing this moment rests on me.

We have the audience for these last precious minutes, and I have to make them count.

Even under the lights, I can sense the weight of ten thousand stares on my shoulders, feel the gasp of ten thousand breaths held in anticipation. Sudden fear crashes through my veins, sharp and static. If I don’t do something right now while I have their interest, this might be my last bow. I scan the audience for something—a sign, a beacon, an omen—and then my eyes fall on one poster catching the light.

Covered in glitter and ghosts, it reads:

PLEASE HAUNT ME

WITH GLITTER BATS 3!

And…oh. Maybe it’s that simple. Maybe today’s loss ofEpic Theme Songis a gift.

There’s nothing like playing songs with people you love, vamping and innovating and making it all the best it’s ever been, doing this for fans who have supported you from the jump. Despite the fighting and tears, I’ve been happier making music with the Glitter Bats this summer than I have been with anything else I’ve done in my ten years in this industry.

The whole band is in sync tonight, tighter than ever before, and I don’t want to lose this electric feeling. We’ve been dancing around this decision all summer. Someone just needs to close their eyes and leap—and I have nothing to lose, so it might as well be me.

“This concert was supposed to be a one-night thing, but the response to our comeback has been overwhelming. This summer has shown me just how much I love making memories with everyone on this stage—and all of you. The thing is: we’re not ready to leave you again, so…” I trail off, building tension.

Casually, strategically, I smirk in the direction of the camera, projecting my expression on the big screens. “Glitterbugs, we’re not going anywhere. We have so many more songs inside of us just waiting to be written. I can promise you all—tonight isn’t the last you’ll hear from the Glitter Bats!”

The stadium erupts like it’s the literal Super Bowl, and I grin and wave, soaking it in. This is all I want—to continue the Glitter Bats legacy for years to come. I don’t know why I ever thought I needed to make it in Hollywood, why I was holding on so hard tothe renewal news forEpic Theme Song—all I need is my band. My family.

So I smile and take in the thundering cheers drowning out my monitors. This is the moment I’ll remember for years to come, the moment that brought the band back together—the moment that saved my career.

But then Caleb nearly tears me away from the microphone. I stumble in my surprise, swinging my guitar instinctively around my back. His grip on my wrist, gentle but urgent, tugs me far enough back that we can’t be overheard.

My heart thunders in my chest as I stare at him, disoriented, trying to figure out what’s wrong. The crowd is still so intense that they drown out any sound they might hear, so at least we have an illusion of privacy away from the mics.

“What the hell was that?” he demands, his voice tight with panic.

I blink. Sure, my declaration was a little sudden, a little impulsive, but that’s my thing. He knows that. Once I explain the plan, everything will be fine.

“You aren’t ready to say goodbye, right?” I ask, sure he’ll understand as soon as the surprise wears off. “We all want this. Let’s do it.”

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