Page 128 of Just My Type of wrong guy

Kiss her and tell her that you love her,

Like it’s the only thing you know is true.

I thought about singing this song for a few reasons. The first, because it didn’t feel right to keep singingOne Last Kissif I can’t kiss the one girl I want. The second because it feels great to sing something I wrote myself in the end of, as Alexandra said, this beautiful thing we’re making. And the third reason, was her and how much she means to me.

But seeing my friends up here, half-singing along to the lyrics and the band swaying to the rhythm of my guitar, only makes me want to add this song to tomorrow’s show — and the one after that. And knowing that my fans loveAlways Usand remember it as mine… that gives me even more confidence that I’ve finally arrived where I always knew I would the moment I walked out of Big D’s office but refused to give up on music.

But none of this sums up my desire to sing this song.

The first time Alexandra and I ever went out together, we talked about this song. She teased me for being a sixteen-year-old kid singing about how everyone who came before her didn’t matter—how every joy and heartbreak didn’t mean a thing becausethat personwas the only one who ever mattered.

Eight months later, we’re standing on the same stage, and I’m singing this song for Alexandra, the lyrics vibrating through my body—because this song is about her. It always was.

When we hit the chorus, I’m reminded of just how massive and catchy this song is. I let go of the guitar to pull the mic off the stand and hold it out to the crowd. They sing like it’s the band’s brand-new anthem—like this song isn’t years old.

Thomas starts playing the bassline, Alexandra and Guilherme humming along softly, guiding the crowd while letting them shine.

My heart’s pounding out of my chest. I don’t even think about what I’m doing—

I just cross the stage, eyes locked on hers as I finish the chorus.

When I reach the backup singers, I hold out my hand to the girl with tear-filled eyes at the end of the line. She steps off the platform and sings with me as we walk to the center of the stage.

Since before we even met,

you were the song stuck in my head,

every heartbreak, every scar,

just led me here where you are.

Now I know, now I see,

every road was leading me,

straight to you, straight to this,

you’re the only thing I missed!

Still looking at her, I touch her face, and aware that I shouldn’t kiss her, I repeat:

You’re the only thing I missed!

While Guilherme and the audience repeat the chorus, because that’s probably all he remembers, I kiss Alexandra ’s forehead under Richard’s watchful eyes, and we stay here, listening to thousands of people singing my song.

A year ago, I was sure I had it all. An ascending career, amazing friends, the apartment of my dreams, passionate fans… But all of this feels too small, too fleeting, when I think about what I feel now.

The urge to have everyone jump in and play the song—Richard crashing on the drums so I could sing it with every ounce of emotion it stirs in me—hits me hard.

But Alexandra pulls back, telling me with her eyes to get back to the show—reminding me we’ve got our whole lives ahead of us.So I turn back to the mic, close my eyes, and let the lyrics wash over me:Now I know, now I see: every road was leading me, straight to this, straight to you, you’re the only piece I missed.

I sing the second part of the song a little faster, more fun, taking advantage of Thomas’ gift for following a song by ear and Alexandra and Guilherme’s vocals, which keep helping me while Richard points his microphone to the audience.

Our fans scream louder at the end of the song than they were screaming to sing it, and I bow halfway. When I stand up, I set my eyes on Alexandra, who smiles at me, and it feels like it’s just the two of us on this stage. I tap the mic, bring it close, and say:

“That wasAlways Us, the song I wrote for my girl, before I even knew she existed.”

Chapter Thirty-Nine – Alex

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