Chapter 30
Eric
Tai, Dmitri, and I sit together at the table the next morning with Mom and Dad across from us. Breakfast smells delicious, and our plates are loaded with fluffy eggs and bacon cooked at just the right temperature to still be chewy.
Dmitri's grin sharpens as he turns to my mother. “What’s the secret? You're an incredible cook while Eric can’t even toast bread without burning it?”
I glare at him across the table, but Mom smiles indulgently. “I suppose I spoiled him a little,” she admits.
“A little?” Tai chuckles, fork waving in my direction. “He's banned from the kitchen on the bus.”
Dmitri looks triumphant, like he's finally got the upper hand. “Oh, that sounds like righteous vindication, doesn't it, Eric? How many times have I told you that you're spoiled?”
I scoff, rolling my eyes. “That's not—”
“No, no,” he interrupts, leaning closer with that playful glint. “Every time I say you're spoiled, you insist you aren't.”
I shake a piece of bacon at him. “Don't twist my words and make a liar of yourself. I remember this conversation, and I never denied being spoiled.” Dmitri starts to speak, but I talk over him. “You implied that you were the one spoiling me, not my momma.”
He freezes for a beat, replaying it in his mind, then scowls in defeat before a radiant smile takes over.
“Well, I suppose I’ll have to work on that, won’t I?
” He beams at me, bright and open, and kisses the tip of my nose.
“If spoiling you rotten is what it takes to hold on to you, I need to get busy.”
My eyes go soft as I lift a hand to cup his cheek, thumb brushing the line of his jaw. “You don’t have to change anything to hold on to me, baby.”
Dmitri is still smiling as he leans in and kisses me. It’s slow and sweet, with the faint taste of maple bacon lingering between us.
A quiet “Aww” comes from across the table. Mom is swooning, fat tears building in her eyes before she swipes them away with a laugh. She’s fallen for him already. “Don’t you dare laugh at me, Eric Samuel,” she scolds. “A mother is allowed to cry when her child is this happy.”
Dmitri drags his hand through his hair and stares at the ground, and the show of nerves is so cute that I can’t help but lean over and plant another kiss on his lips. Tai gags while my dad chortles behind his hand. Dad tries to disguise it as a cough when my mom's eyes whip to him.
A shrill shriek sounds from outside, and everyone leaps from the table and runs toward the door.
“Oh, what the fuck?” I whisper, feet sliding to a stop against the fence.
Theo bolts across the yard, screeching at full volume while a giant, enraged rooster pursues him with murderous intent. Its feathers bristle and spurs flash, comb whipping side to side.
It’s a walking punchline come to life.
My parents observe from the porch steps with quiet amusement. Mom calls out cheerfully, “Henry is a mean one!”
“I think he figured that out, Mom,” I deadpan, and it earns me a swift swat on the arm.
“I’m too pretty to die!” Theo wails, pumping his short legs in frantic loops around the yard. Dust billows up behind him, grass tearing free as he skids around a corner, body tilting dangerously. “It’s going to kill me! Dante, you motherfucker, you said it looked nice!”
Dante leans on the fence a ways down, arms crossed and head shaking in mild exasperation.
“First, I said he was pretty, but that doesn’t mean you need to go pet it, Theo. Rule number one in the wild is don’t touch the animals!”
“This isn’t the wild!” Theo sobs, twisting to look back and shrieking again as Henry surges closer.
Dmitri’s face has gotten progressively redder, lips quivering as he battles the laughter rising in his chest. But when Henry pecks at the heel of Theo’s shoe, the scream that follows is ear-splitting, and Dmitri finally breaks into howling, deep-bellied laughter that bends him double.
I’m right there with him, composure completely gone.
Theo zigs and zags desperately through the yard, screams growing louder and more frantic the longer the chase drags on, but the rooster is relentless and gaining on him.
Tai giggles uncontrollably beside us, but Dante just stands there, shaking his head like he's disappointed.
“Oh, you boys,” Mom chides as we fall against each other, tears streaming down our faces.
She grabs the broom from the kitchen and marches out into the grass.
On their next lap around the yard, she swings it like a baseball bat and hits Henry with a very impressive smack.
He turns his attention to her, but she takes another swipe at him.
Clucking loudly, he admits defeat and strides away.
“Worthless!” Theo shrieks as he stomps over. “Every one of you is worthless. I could have died.” Even Dad is struggling to keep his laughter at bay as Theo smooths his clothing out, trying his best to look dignified.
“Theo, that’s the first time I’ve seen a cock chase you instead of the other way around,” I say with a snicker. It earns me another smack from my mother as Theo gasps a dramatic, “Rude!”
Once we finally calm down, Theo lets my mother lead him inside, basking in the attention as she offers to make him a cup of tea.
Dante waves me over, finally releasing a chuckle. “I got something for you,” he says, and starts walking toward the bus. He leads us on and gestures at a package sitting on top of my bunk.
“What’s this?” I ask, picking up the box to shake it before tearing into it.
“Jesus, you’re a savage,” Dante grumbles, yanking the half-destroyed packaging out of my hands. He brandishes a pair of scissors and cuts it the rest of the way open, then hands it back. “We won’t have a chance to play with it tonight, but I’ve been researching these for a while.”
Dmitri watches over my shoulder as I unpackage—more carefully this time—a wireless microphone headset. Dante watches me like he’s expecting me to drop it at any moment, and he’s prepared to dive in for the save.
“You use your hands a lot when you sing,” Dante explains, “and I’ve been waiting for the day you launch the mic across the stage.”
I clap him on the shoulder, a wide grin on my face. “No shit, man? This is fucking awesome.”
Dante tries to hide his pleased smile. “We’ll experiment with it before the next show and work the kinks out. And we’ll have a normal mic set up as a backup in case something goes wrong.”
“Maybe you can wear that for me later,” Dmitri whispers in my ear as I crack a giant smile. “Y’know… that and nothing else while we work the kinks out.”
Dante snatches the headset out of my hands. “You will not be using band equipment in your sexcapades.”
“No on the sexcapades,” I repeat with a somber nod, before turning to Dmitri. “Wonder if it’s okay for our sexperiments?”
“Again, no,” Dante says.
Dmitri hums thoughtfully, leaning close. “Should we tell him what we do with the drumsticks?”
I cough out a choked laugh as Dante’s head turns red, and he glares at a very innocent-looking Dmitri.
“Okay,” Dmitri says as he holds his hands up in surrender. “That’s a no, then. Just, uh… just checking. And joking, obviously joking.”
At that moment, Dante could give Henry the rooster a run for his money for crankiest cock on the farm.
My money’s on Dante.
The comfort of my parents’ house has worked miracles on my stress levels.
Just one day back there and I’m grounded again, the constant buzz in my chest easing into something steady and quiet.
When the stadium roar floods my ears and the searing heat of the spotlights washes over my skin, I feel it deep in my bones.
I belong right here, on this stage, in this moment.
Tonight’s setlist hits harder, with fewer ballads and more raw, driving tracks that match the energy thrumming through me.
As I prowl across the stage, a smile tugs at my lips and my body surges with a fresh wave of adrenaline I haven’t felt in too long.
My feet trace an aimless route while I sing, letting the music take over and sweep me along completely.
Caught up in the melody, I slip between Theo and Dante.
Theo meets me with a wild, manic grin as we sync up, moving together like we’ve rehearsed it.
The song builds, and we start improvising—bouncing, jamming, lost in our own bubble of sound and motion.
Even Dante seems lighter tonight, and I raise my hands high during his blistering guitar solo, feeding the crowd’s frenzy right back to him.
Adrenaline hangs thick in the air, and we’re all drunk on it.
Life on the road should always feel like this.
I glance over my shoulder and find Dmitri watching me. His smile is so bright it outshines the lights and cuts straight through the chaos like it’s just the two of us.
A new, slower song starts, and my head bobs to the pulse as I make my way over to Tai.
We share the mic through the duet section, voices weaving, and the audience laps it up.
Our harmonies drift together in a gentle current that cuts through the wild energy around us.
Mine gruff and weighted with emotion; his melodic and smooth as aged whisky, calm and grounding.
Opposites that complete each other.
For a moment I stand solo again, sinking into the song, letting its depth surround me completely. The words leave my mouth like they have a destination, and I turn toward Dmitri, voice carrying every bit of feeling as I walk over and stop in front of him to sing.
“Take a breath and make it count. It’s the last one you get before we’re going under. Deep, too deep, we can’t swim as we sink.”
A clear wave of catcalls and cheers rises from the crowd, and worry flickers in his eyes as he silently questions the move.
Too wired on adrenaline to second-guess it, I glance back at the whistles with a smirk playing on my lips.
It grows into a full smile as they get louder.
I turn back to Dmitri, eyes catching the dimple deepening in his cheek as he smiles so beautifully.
Never looking away, I lift the mic to my lips again.
“And we fall, and we fall, so just hold on tight. Hold on to me, just hold on to me. I’ll never let you drown alone. No, I’ll never let you drown alone.”
With a final lingering gaze, I bite my lip and give him a wink. He shakes his head in disbelief, his smile a sunbeam folded up and meant only for me. I hold onto that warmth for one more second before I pivot and head back to center stage.
The audience is wild, a sea of voices and hands reaching up.
The band is pumped, adrenaline runs hot through every note, and my heart is so full I fear it might actually burst from the pressure.
Through the rest of the show, I can’t stop looking at Dmitri.
His eyes never leave me, always watching, like he can see straight into me and read the unspoken words carved across my soul.
Words that are dying to meet the light of day, just begging to be said.
Mumbles against my temple stir me from my sleep, and I cuddle deeper into Dmitri’s embrace. “What was that?” I ask, my voice barely legible between my half-conscious state and my face being pressed into his chest.
His hand runs through my hair, pushing it out of my face. “Didn’t know you were awake.”
“Well, I wasn’t until I heard that sexy voice, all sleep-rumpled and deep. What’d you say?”
“Nothing,” he responds, with a kiss to the top of my head. “Just talking to myself.”
“Need an expert opinion on something?”
A soft chuckle blows over my hair, ruffling it before he smooths it back down again. “Something along those lines.”
“What time is it?” I ask, voice strained from the performance.
We didn't get back to my parents' house until after 1 a.m., and the crash from the adrenaline-fueled show was so intense that I barely had a chance to rinse off in the shower and brush my teeth before I fell into bed. Tangled up in Dmitri, I’d fallen asleep almost the second my head hit the pillow.
“Close to ten.” He drops another kiss on my head as his hands drift up and down my spine. I smile against his chest, the coarse hair there scraping lightly at my cheek in a way that feels perfect. Cuddly Dmitri is one of my favorite versions of him.
“Sorry I fell asleep on you last night,” I say with a yawn.
“You needed the rest,” he answers easily. “That performance might’ve been the best you've ever had. You were incredible.”
“I’m sure there’s a lot to say about it online.”
Especially the part where I basically serenaded him.
Right now, though, I can’t summon the energy to care. Not while I’m wrapped in his arms, breathing in his familiar scent and feeling his hands skim my back with such open, tender affection.
He pauses, then chuckles when I wiggle and coax him to keep petting me. “Are you ready to face the day yet?”
I hook a leg over his and lock him in place. “Five more minutes.”