Page 48 of Sustain

Somehow, some way, we’ve made it work.

At first, I find myself scrutinizing the band with managerial analysis, actively curbing my perfectionist urgesto micromanage missed cues or tempo changes. But as their opening song crescendos, raw ability shines undeniably through. The polished veneer that Logan’s presence lends admittedly helps, but even without him, Chaos Fuel hassomething. I’ve always known it. And now, I’m hoping to show it to the world. Surprising pride swells watching my reckless reprobates rising to the occasion, passion earning this chance at redemption.

I’m hopeful, anyway. News about Frankie’s quick departure hasn’t hit the press yet that I know of. That might all change once it does.

With my reluctant hopes buoyed, I allow myself to soak in the contagious thrill as a fan again right along with the crowd. Logan channels his ultimate showman skills, transfixing even the most jaded in the crowd. And for all their bluster offstage, Chaos Fuel’s wizardry at binding some sort of delicate sonic chemistry always struck me. Hearing that familiar spark now through listeners’ ears reconnects me to all of the possibilities I first glimpsed when I signed them.

Far too soon their encore erupts into the brilliant, borrowed pyrotechnics, bathing us all in dazzling color. The ovation of the crowd thunders even as the band waves their final goodbyes.

Beside me, Mackenzie turns, eyes shining. “That was amazing.” She reaches up to kiss my cheek, her lips warm against my cold skin. “You did it.”

“No,” I say with a smile that I don’t have to force. “We did.”

thirty-three

. . .

The Steeple

Mackenzie

My eyes trace the riot of colors and lilting harmonies onstage before inevitably drifting right, pulled once more into Ian’s orbit. His face etched with bittersweet nostalgia and pride for these wayward musicians he has spent countless unsung hours ushering back from the brink of destruction. Only someone like him could have done it. Someone who’s been in their shoes.

And though Chaos Fuel’s name will flash the largest on tomorrow’s headlines and reviews, I don’t feel any jealousy at all. They deserve it.Hedeserves it. And the best part is, he won’t acknowledge his own part in any of it. He’s not a team player, heleadsthe team. I admire that about him. Despite his own vulnerability and fears about his new position, he just gets shit done.

Kind of like me.

The telling muscle twitch of his jaw each time something looks like it might go wrong makes me ache to trace the familiar line and give him kisses until the tightness unknits itself. I have to remind myself that sure, this is a concert, but this is work for both of us. If I let myself, I’d get happily carried away.

My pulse trips on an unexpected epiphany; this ferocious longing’s been brewing inside me for far longer than just the time we spent snowed in together. I’ve been attracted to Ian since we first met years ago. But he was always off-limits in my head.

We were and are work associates, and I always thought that meant nothing could ever happen between us. He was an executive at the label, the hierarchy between us would have been awkward. Plus, I thought he was married, and that’s definitely a no-go situation for me.

But now…

Now things are different.

Relationships in this industry are crucial. There’s no denying that. It’s all barter and trade for favors of one kind or another. But Ian and I are playing on a level field now. We’re equals.

Not only are we equals – he respects me, and my experience. Something I am extremely unused to in this business. I’ve had to forge my way through the male ego bullshit so many times, I’ve forgotten what actual respect looked like. Usually, when I press an issue that I know is right, anything I get in return is begrudgingly given. Not volunteered.

Ian. Is. Different.

He’s selfless. He’s loyal to a fault. That was crystal clear in his failed attempt to stand in for Frankie. I could tell right away that it cost him his pride to admit he couldn’t do it. But hedidadmit it. He was honest about it and didn’t force the issue with some machismo bravado, only to screw everything up in the end. He knew his limits. But he tried. He selflessly tried to fix it himself.

I love that.

And he didn’t balk at my offer of help. He understood he needed it and accepted it. Sure, I could see the little dents it made in his pride, but he understood the assignment. He gets that at a festival like this, one band’s success is everyone’ssuccess. We’re all links in a chain here, and if one breaks, we all fall apart.

I think we might make a good team, Ian and me.

We haven’t broached the subject, but I think it might be on the horizon for us. I can totally see us working out, doing our own thing, but the same thing at the same time.

I haven’t considered a long-term relationship with anyone for a very, very long time. I’ve been too focused on my career. But looking at him now, and the complex planes that make up his heroic soul make me yearn for that with him.

Growing older with someone always meant slowing down in my mind, giving up somehow. Not necessarily being ‘tied down,’ but restricted in some way. I don’t feel that at all with Ian. With him, I feel safe, comforted, and allowed to be vulnerable. Basically, all the things I’ve never felt before.

It's scary as shit, but exciting at the same time.

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