Page 23 of Rockstar Next Door Neighbor

I suddenly turn from the piano and walk over to the floor-length window.

New York City. The lights, the noise, the energy—it’s everything you’d expect. And usually, it’s the kind of place that gets my adrenaline pumping. Walking through the bustling streets, knowing I’m about to play to a packed house, should have me riding high. I’m a rockstar in one of the biggest bands in the country. This is the dream, right?

So why the hell can’t I stop thinking about her?

We’re playing a one-night show. The event was planned to keep the hype alive before we head back to the studio to finish the new album. It’s the kind of thing we live for—stepping onto a stage, hearing the roar of the crowd, and losing ourselves in the music—especially here.

But instead of focusing on the setlist or the soundcheck, my mind keeps drifting back to Lila. I think about the way hersmile lights up her whole face. I remember how her voice softens when she talks about her dreams. And I can’t forget how she looked at me on the beach—like she was starting to feel something, too.

But then my phone rang, and she left—and who could blame her?

I drag a hand through my hair, frustrated with myself. She made her feelings clear. She wants to keep things neighborly, and I’ve been doing my best to leave her alone. But damn, it’s not easy. Not when she’s all I can think about, even in the middle of the city that never sleeps.

I return to the piano, but this time the melody won’t come. Instead, I find myself thinking about choices and consequences, the price of freedom, and the cost of family loyalty.

Tonight, I’ll go on stage and play the part of the successful rockstar. I’ll smile for cameras and pretend everything’s perfect. But something has to give.

I pull out my phone, looking at Lila’s last text before I left on our flight: a simple‘good luck’with a smiling face emoji. My thumb hovers over the keyboard, but what can I say? Sorry, I’m trapped in a relationship because her father coulddestroy my family’s company. Sorry, I kissed you and then had to walk away.

Sorry, I’m not selfish enough to choose you.

I put the phone away and get ready for the performance.

We’re backstage at Madison Square Garden, and you can already feel the thrum of excitement in the air.

“Hey, you good?” Vince’s voice pulls me out of my thoughts. He’s leaning against the entrance to the dressing room, his guitar slung over his shoulder, his trademark frown firmly in place.

“Yeah,” I say, forcing a smile. “Just... tired, I guess.”

He raises an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “Tired? Come on, man. We’re in New York. You should be on fire right now.”

“I am. I will be,” I lie, grabbing a bottle of water from the dressing table. “Just need to get through tonight.”

Vince watches me for a moment, trying to figure out what’s really going on. But thankfully, he doesn’t push. “Well, snap out of it,” he says, smirking. “We’ve got a sold-out crowd waiting to lose their minds.”

I nod, taking a long sip of water as he heads out to join the rest of the band for a soundcheck.

By the time we hit the stage, the venue is electric. The roar of the crowd is deafening, a wall of sound that crashes over me like a wave. I hover over my keyboard, my fingers finding the familiar keys as the opening notes of our first song fill the air.

This should be the moment where everything else fades away, and it’s just me, the music, and the crowd. But even as I lose myself in the performance, the ghost of Lila’s presence lingers in the back of my mind. Her laugh, her warmth, the way she looks at me when she thinks I’m not paying attention.

I push through, song after song, pouring everything I have into the music. By the time we hit the final notes of the encore, the audience is on their feet, screaming for more. I should feel invincible, untouchable. But as the lights go down and the adrenaline starts to fade, all I feel is the ache of something missing—or someone.

Back at the hotel, the guys are in full celebration mode. The couples share the moment; Cass is kissing Kendrick, and Sam has his arm around Emily. Vince orders a round of drinks, and Nate gets his phone out, probably checking the stocks again. Everyone’s in high spirits, the kind of energy that comes from nailing a show in one of the biggest cities in the world.

I should be right there with them, soaking it all in. But instead, I find myself standing by the window, staring out at the glittering skyline.

“Hey, Luke,” Sam says, walking up to me and nudging me with a grin. “What’s going on with you, man? You’ve been in your head all day.”

“Nothing,” I say, shaking my head. “Just... thinking.”

“About what?” Sam presses, taking a sip of his drink. “Wait, let me guess. Blonde, curvy, killer cook?”

I glare at him, but he just laughs. “Come on, man. It’s obvious. You’ve been different ever since she showed up.”

“Drop it, Sam,” I say, my voice sharper than I intended.

“Alright, alright.” He holds up his hands in mock surrender. “But for the record? You should go for it. Life’s too short to play it safe. I should know.”

---