Page 100 of Hope & Harmony

“Phoenix.” I lifted my arms in the air. “How the hell are you? Is it hot in here tonight or is that just Onyx Knight?”

The crowd responded with an energetic bout of screams, and a lacy black bra landed at my feet.

Well, that hadn’t happened in a while, so I scooped it up and twirled it around my finger. “I think it’s time for a judgment call!” I launched into the opening lyrics and found they came easily.

Onyx Knight was talented. No one achieved their level of success by being mediocre, and they definitely didn’t do it by being shoddy musicians. They were professional and smart, making it easy for me to fumble through the first few bars. I knew the music, the lyrics, and the songs, but this was different. Being front and center for a band like Onyx Knight took me to another level.

Another time.

And then the memories came, whiplashing through my heart and bouncing off my soul.

A quick glance to the wings and Clara was there.

Swaying in time to the music, her smile huge.

For the briefest moment in time, it was as real as I was, but when it faded, there was no pain, no melting, no nightmare.

This time, when I looked back, Clara had morphed into Wynter, fingers laced together against her chest, as if she were so nervous, she was praying.

Luckily, even though my brain might have been terrified, the rest of me knew what to do.

The rest of me remembered the beat, the moves, the music.

And when ‘Judgment Call’ ended, we went right into ‘Symphony of the Broken’. Devyn had written that one, and we sang it together, harmonizing as if we’d done it a million times before, while Kingston wowed everyone on the Baby Grand piano he played.

It was riveting, even to me.

As the song came to an end, Kellan came up behind me, yelling in my ear, “Let’s do ‘Shooting For the Stars’. We know it. You know it. The crowd will know it.”

There was no time for me to say no, because Tommy was already pounding out the all-too-familiar opening bass drum rhythm.

Had they somehow planned this?

Something that I’d buried so deep I’d almost forgotten it was there exploded out in a torrent of emotion that was impossible to describe. Sadness, excitement, guilt, longing, and a touch of nostalgia hit me like a physical blow. But instead of letting it take me down the way it might have even a few years ago, I leaned into it.

This was the magic of rock and roll, and if I was only going to experience it one last time in my life, I was going to give it everything I had.

So I did.

I ran back to the front and raised my hands over my head, clapping them together. “Who’s ready to shoot for the stars?”

To my complete shock, the crowd went nuts.

They fucking remembered.

Of course, they fucking remembered. You’re Ross Rocket. Show them how it’s done, brother.

Joey’s voice was clear as day, even though he’d been dead for nineteen years.

I felt another pang of nostalgia, but I grinned as I shook it off.

I’d miss Joey later.

Right now, he was next to me.

They all were.

Joey and Rambo and Dixon.

My friends, my bandmates, my brothers.

Tonight, I’d do this for them.

For Wynter.

But most of all, for me.

Ross and Roll, my brother.

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