Page 123 of Starstruck

six months later the final night of 'the neverland tour'

“Will someone call my sister so I can say my goodbyes? I can't handle this. Can you die from nerves? Is that a thing—”

“Will you relax?” Rory laughed, her eyes sparkling under the lowlights that flickered around the arena. “This is his final show. He knows the score by now. He’ll do great.”

"And I don't think you can die from nerves." Jess added before shrugging. "But I'm not a med student so if you die it's not my fault." Nerves fluttered in his eyes. "Don't die though. We like you too much."

I narrowed my eyes at him, my hands resting on my hunched knees. "If I do, you're not speaking at the wake."

"Aww." He mock puted, which pulled the smallest, tiniest smile out of me.

I could barely focus on any of their words, though. My heart was racing withthis awful mix of excitement and nerves, the kind that made it hard to stand still. It had been weeks—weeks since I’d seen him, really seen him. The texts, the calls, and the little updates he sent while on tour weren’t enough to calm the storm inside me. He was always busy, always on the move, and now... now he was finally here.

Finn, Rory, Daisy, Cora, and Jesse had all tried to talk me down, each onetaking turns throughout the day with their own version of “You’ll be fine,” but none of it worked. My mind was spinning too fast, bouncing between the nervous fluttering in my stomach and the pure thrill of knowing I’d be watching him, just moments from now, on stage, in his element.

I hadn’t seen him perform live yet—not since the album dropped. Iknew what to expect from the videos and stories I’d seen online, but being here, the energy in the room, the crowd buzzing—it was entirely different. My chest felt tight, but in the best way, like I was on the edge of something incredible. It wasn’t just his music I was excited for—it was seeing him again, being close to him after all this time.

I chewed my lip, practically bouncing on my high tops, my yellow dressswishing as I glanced toward the stage. I couldn’t help but grin, even though my heart was thumping so hard I could feel it in my ears.

Tonight was going to be everything. I could feel it.

“Here, eat this,” Finn said, handing me his bucket of popcorn thatwas already half gone. “Nervous snacking helps me before games.”

My hands grab the bucket and pull it to my chest. “Thank you,” Isigh, before diving in and scooping out a handful of salted— “Ew.” I cry, before narrowing my eyes at him. “Salted popcorn? What is wrong with you?”

Finn stuck his tongue out at me before snatching back the bucket, sending popcorn flying as it crashed into his chest. A chorus of laughter rippled through the group, and I couldn't help but join in, though the sound was tinged with a quiet ache in my chest. Summer was approaching fast, and with it came the reality that I wouldn't see these faces every day.

Daisy, Finn, and Jesse were heading back to Montana, and Cora hadplans in Montauk, spending the summer with her sister and new niece. It would just be Rory and me here in the city.

I cast a glance over at Rory, watching her smile fade just a little asshe gazed at Finn from the sidelines. After the year she'd had, happy days weaved between bouts of sadness, I silently promised myself I'd look after her this summer.

"Salted popcorn?" Cora sighed dramatically, shaking her head atFinn. "I think we need to call group court in session for this one."

Jesse barked a laugh, nudging Finn as he stepped closer into the circle. "Still on the salted phase?"

Finn shot him a middle finger, his smirk full of sarcasm. "Still on the walkman phase?"

Jesse put on a mock pout, rolling his eyes dramatically. "It's comfy. Sue me."

Finn raised his hands. "Whatever you say, Patrick Bateman."

"I prefer 'retro enthusiast,’ but you do you, man."

Daisy chimed in with a grin. "Hey, at least you're committed to the aesthetic."

Jesse winked. "Someone’s gotta keep it alive."

The banter circled around us, grounding me in our little corneredoff area right by the stage, but my thoughts kept drifting back to Tristan.

I thought about everything that had led up to tonight—about the conversations we'd had before we left, the talks about his future, what it all meant for us, and where his music was taking him.

“Cade just called me,”I remembered him saying, his voice thick with excitement.“He said I can stay on at Liberty, write throughout the year, and plan shows for the summer breaks. I get to stay, Gold’s. We’re gonna graduate together.”

That memory—his words, his smile—washed over me now, and just like that, the nerves I'd been carrying melted away, dripping off me like rain from an umbrella, lost to the shadows of the arena. For weeks, he’d waited on an answer from the label, wondering what would happen with the album, his position, his future. And in those weeks, I’d been there, by his side. I reassured him on the days when doubt clouded his mind, when his past took over and he felt the weight of what he’d done to get here pressing down on him.

He’d spent time with Nate after Thanksgiving, and it was Nate who referred him to his therapist, someone Tristan now saw once a week. And it helped. More than I’d thought it would, more than he had expected. I watched the change in him happen, slowly at first but then, all at once. He wasn’t hiding anymore; the things that haunted him were out in the world, and he was learning to live with them. Learning to be free from them.

And I’d never been prouder of anyone in my life.

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