Page 124 of Starstruck

“Here,” Daisy laughs and breaks free as she barges through herbrother and Jess, a takeout soda cup and a bag of Red Vines in her hand. “It’ll get your sugar up.” She takes a breath. “Can’t have you fainting in front of your boyfriend now, can we?”

Boyfriend.The word hit differently, especially knowing they had noidea. None of them did. Tristan and I had never told anyone about us. We didn’t need to. After months of figuring out that there had always been something between us, quietly simmering beneath the secrets, we decided there was no point in unearthing everything that we’d buried. To them, we were just, and had always been, us.

I moaned dramatically as I took the soda from Daisy, slipping thestraw between my lips. “They should erect statues in your honor,” I sighed, the rush of sugar hitting my system instantly.

My eyes rolled back in mock bliss, and Daisy chuckled, nudging my arm. “I’ll take it in white marble and nothing else.”

“Deal.” I took another long sip, grateful for the distraction, but mymind was still buzzing with anticipation, waiting for the moment I’d finally seehimagain.

“Woah, oh, oh… curtain movement.” Cora buzzed in the middle of thegroup. “I see curtain movement.”

I barely had a moment to process what Cora had said before thearena plunged into darkness, a sudden hush falling over the crowd, followed by a wave of deafening screams. My own voice was lost in the sea of excitement, my heart thundering as I called out, anticipation coursing through me.

Then, a single spotlight sliced through the fog, illuminating the rich maroon velvet curtain. His name appeared in elegant calligraphy, casting a shadow against the backdrop. My heart swelled, full of so much pride, so much longing, and every other emotion I'd tucked away in the time we'd been apart.

It all came rushing back at once. The nights I'd spent listening to his music, the times we’d shared, and the way it felt to be near him—all of it crackled in the air between me and that stage, filling me with a longing so fierce I almost couldn’t breathe.

And just as I was questioning what that sharp pang in my hearttruly meant, the curtains slowly parted. There he was—like a dark angel, stepping into the spotlight. Just him, and a microphone stand, dressed head to toe in black, as if he’d stepped straight out of my dreams and onto the stage.

“Good evening, New York,” Tristan's voice rang out, rich and velvety, sending a shiver that rippled down my spine. “It’s been a while.”

The roar of the crowd was like nothing I’d ever heard before. I spun in place, trying to soak it all in—the lights, the people, the electrified buzz that pulsed through the arena. And then I caught sight of our friends—his friends—each one glowing with pride, their expressions reflecting exactly what I felt. We were all his people, his family, in our own way.

“Now,” Tristan’s voice broke through again, and the crowd fell into a hush as if they were hanging on his every word. “Normally, I’d kick things off with ‘Neverland,’ but tonight’s a little different. Tonight’s special.”

My heart skipped a beat, thudding in my chest as his eyes swept over the crowd, searching... until they found mine. In that split second, the world fell away. The smile that curved on his lips wasn’t just for the crowd—it was for me, and it felt like being wrapped in warmth, in a love I never quite believed I could have.

He didn’t break his gaze as he spoke. “There’s a song on the album I’ve been holding back,” he said softly, “because I didn’t want to sing it until the person who inspired it was in the room.”

I felt the air leave my lungs, my friends stirring beside me with wide-eyed glances, but I was too far gone, too caught in the moment to respond.

“That boy issodown bad,” Daisy murmured, but her voice was distant, almost like background noise.

Tristan smiled, soft but full of meaning, and spoke again. “She was the first to hear it, on a rainy afternoon back in November, and she didn’t even know how much I was falling for her.”

My heart stopped, and my breath caught.

He looked straight at me, his expression tender. “So, Marigold,” he said, his voice warm with affection, “this one’s for you.”

With a flick of his fingers, he adjusted the strap of his guitar, the same acoustic one he’d taught me to play. His fingers danced over the strings, and just before the first note filled the air, he looked up once more, locking eyes with me again.

“This isStar Girl.”

I’d raced ahead of the others as we made our way backstage, my heart pounding with every step. I couldn’t wait. Not for a second. I needed to see him—just a moment alone before the chaos of congratulations and the crowd of faces would pull him away.

I weaved between stage crew and familiar faces from the band, barely noticing any of them. Then I saw him. Tristan. Standing just behind the curtain, waiting, bathed in the glow of the stage lights. The face I’d dreamt about for weeks, the one that grounded me every time.

I stopped in my tracks, taking him in. This was his element—the way he seemed to shine brighter after every song, like he was made for this. But tonight, after he finished that song, the one he’d written for me under the tree, there was an extra glow around him, and I couldn’t help but feel it radiating from me, too.

I cleared my throat softly. In an instant, his body turned, and the wide smile I loved stretched across his face as he closed the distance between us. I barely had time to breathe before his arms wrapped around me, pulling me close. His familiar scent—amber and warmth—washed over me, and just like that, I was home.

“Hello, Sunshine,” he murmured into the crown of my head, and all I could do was hold him tighter. His arms lifted me effortlessly, my feet leaving the ground as he spun us in a slow circle, lost together in the moment.

“Hello, Rockstar,” I whispered into his ear, wishing I could pause time right here. I wanted us to catch up, to soak in every second without the world rushing back in.

He set me down far too soon, his hands sliding down my arms before he pulled back just enough to take me in, his eyes searching mine, tracing the lines of my face like he was memorizing me all over again. “I missed you,” he said, his voice rough with emotion. “I missed you too fucking much.”

“Join the club,” I replied, wrapping my arms around his waist again, not even pretending to resist the pull to be close to him. I wasn’t ready to let go, not even for a second.

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