Page 174 of Unspoken Truths

Walking together to the elevator and then to the venue, it’s easy to get caught up in the energy. Portland is excited about this band, and so am I.

The opening band is fucking amazing, and I dance in the crowd with my mom. She has some serious moves. It’s whenThe Darkest Nightscomes on stage that I’m hit with a wave of emotion.

Holy shit. Their songs have gotten me through a lot of fucked up things. Sometimes, I would put on a pair of headphones and blast their music to drown out the voices. It didn’t always work, but the days it did were glorious.

“Thank you, Mom,” I say, feeling the tears start to fall as I hug her.

She doesn’t say anything, and just hugs me back as we listen. Mom surprises me by singing along with them, simply shrugging as we sway from side to side. All the times I didn’t think she saw me, I think maybe she did and didn’t know how to reach me.

Taking a shuddering breath to center myself and curb the tears, I sing with her until the tears dry. Lenny has purple hair, and is wearing leather pants and a black corset. She looks amazing as she sings, her bandmates clearly enjoying the way she looks as they play and sing with her.

It makes me wonder about those dynamics, who she’s with, and how it all works. Right now, I’m never jealous of my time with Lili and Nacio. I’m pretty sure she’s coming over to wait for me, and will be hanging out with Nacio to watch a movie. Anything that happens during that time doesn’t bother me either.

It’s no different than Lili and I making out together when we’re alone.

Shaking my head at the odd direction of my thoughts, I watch as some of those questions are answered as the crowd goes wild as Roark kisses Lenny soundly. We all begin to lose it completely, screaming when Turner pulls her from him and dips her to kiss her hard.

The guitarist and drummer are gorgeous men, both very different from the other. The interviews never discuss who she’s with, and I think that’s for the best. It’s better to enjoy the small glimpses of their lives that they allow us to see.

Just because they’re famous, doesn’t mean we own them.

“Thank you, Portland,” Lenny yells into her microphone with a grin, running off the stage with her bandmates.

“That was amazing!” I exclaim, grinning.

“Hey, would you two like to meet the band?” a man asks, holding up VIP passes. “They can’t be bought, we give them at each concert to a very small group of people. I couldn’t help but notice how much the band seemed to affect you.”

Eyes wide, I glance at my mom, unsure if she wants to leave right away or not.

“That would be great,” Mom says smiling.

The man gives us his last two passes, ushering us to where there’s a group of us. He walks us backstage to a room where he tells us his name is Neil, and that the band members will be in soon.

I’m standing in a group with other teens, and I chat with them while my mom talks with their parents until the band strides in excitedly. Lenny comes over to our group immediately, asking us our names.

It’s incredible to be talking to her, seeing how genuine she is as well. One of the parents explains how it’s their daughter’s first concert, and Lenny squeals as she asks what they thought. She tries to make sure she chats with all of us, while my brain goes blank.

What do you say to someone you idolize?

“Can I just tell you how much I love you,” I say instead, wide eyed.

“Yes, and then you can tell me something important about you that I need to know. I live with two men and I need girl time before they come find me,” she jokes.

I can’t imagine what that would be like, but I had no one for so long, I expect it’s pretty isolating, especially with the fame.

A man with vine tattoos down his arm wraps his arm around Lenny, the guitarist smiling at us. She leans against Turner with a happy smile, while they both give me their full attention.

“Why are guys so dumb?” I ask, word vomit continuing to flow as I give Jared as an example. Ugh, the Kings and their stupid fucking bet that is threatening to ruin my life is leaking into my perfect night.

I fucking hate them. Well, outside of Ignacio. I really like him.

“I can also answer that from a guy’s perspective if you’ll have me,” Turner says, his pale blue eyes intent.

“You don’t want to answer teenager questions though, do you?” Mom asks, chewing on her lip.

She’s right, he’s a man in his mid-thirties. It’s silly for me to be asking them questions like this.

“I most certainly do. Lennon can tell you that I have opinions on all sorts of things, some she actually agrees with,” he says, leaning forward to kiss Lenny’s shoulder.

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