Chapter 9
Theo
Any trace of nerves vanishes the minute we step onto the stage. With Dante and I back to our usual selves, the band is in top form. Tonight, we deliver the head-banging, dynamic performance our fans have come to expect, working in the perfect harmony that’s catapulted us here.
Heavy drums thud so loudly they force my heart to beat at the same tempo, while raw energy ripples through my body in a sonic boom. My pick hits the strings as my fingers dance over the fretboard, the sound washing over my skin and vibrating straight through my bones.
The music lifts us to a different plane, where everything is perfect and nothing else matters.
Dmitri’s eyes find mine through the strobes, sweat already raining off his forehead as he pours every emotion into his drums. The lights reflect off his teeth as he flashes me a grin, then Eric’s throaty, emotion-filled voice hits the mic.
All eyes are on him as he bares his soul for the world, pulling everyone under his ocean as he sings. My eyes close, lost in the power of it all, and I thank my lucky stars that I’m here—doing what I love with the people I care about most.
We’re flawless through the last beat. In his parting words, Eric encourages the audience to cash in their vouchers for the album.
The agency pushed it out for sale as the first song played, and now we’re all eager to see the numbers.
The initial weeks after launch are crucial for our future, and despite the butterflies, an undeniable sense of exhilaration permeates the crew.
Hands held high, we wave as we exit to the side stage. Once we’re hidden from view, Dmitri checks Eric’s headset—something he does without fail after every performance since their fight was broadcast to the world. When he verifies the blue light is unblinking, he turns and gives us a nod.
Tai, Eric, and I simultaneously let out a loud whoop, while Dmitri and Dante exchange calmer smiles and shake their heads at the rest of us jumping and zooming around like caffeinated squirrels.
“Fucking amazing show, guys!” Eric shouts, gripping my and Dante’s shoulders with a rough shake. He forgets how strong he is sometimes, and jostles me until I lose my balance, while Dante stands there like a concrete pillar.
Monica comes wandering toward us with a giant smile on her face. “I’m with Eric on this one. That was fucking incredible!”
After a few more minutes of high fives and hugs, the adrenaline ebbs and a calmer silence settles over us. Monica gives us a moment to decompress before she speaks. “The party starts in two hours. Make sure you’re all there at least thirty minutes early.”
“Which means Dante will be there at least an hour in advance,” Tai teases.
Dante flips him off without even looking in his direction. “We’ll be there at the same time since we rode in the bus together. Hope you remembered to bring your clothes, because you stink.”
“You stink,” Tai mutters, wrinkling his nose and narrowing his eyes.
Monica grins between them before clapping her hands. “Alright, go make yourselves pretty and prepare to have fun. This is your celebration for your hard work.”
“You heard the woman,” I say, already grabbing my stuff. “I, for one, have big plans to be fabulous tonight, so I’m not wasting a second. See you bitches soon.”
We agreed to get ready in the dressing rooms here, because there isn’t time to drive home and back.
Especially not when my goal is to transform myself into a living masterpiece.
I dash to the bus, snatch my bag, and hurry inside before locking myself in a dressing room.
Semi-public showers aren’t my thing, but sometimes you have to take what you can get.
It’s a choice between sucking it up or showing up sweaty, and that is not an option.
The only shimmer on my body will be my cheekbones.
Once I’m done showering, I rake a handful of mousse through my hair before pushing it back and to the side, then reach for my makeup bag.
Tonight I decide to go bold: a dramatic cat-eye flick of eyeliner, thick black mascara to make my lashes pop, and a darker, matte nude on my lips that feels sophisticated without screaming for attention.
Satisfied with my face, I unzip the garment bag and inhale the faint scent of freshly laundered fabric.
Navy-blue ankle pants hug my legs, the white button-up is form-fitting and tucked in with a brown belt that matches my loafers.
The blazer is the same navy as the pants, but several sizes too big, which creates a perfect oversized contrast against the tailored pieces underneath.
Usually I don’t draw attention to my petite frame, but this combination is lethal.
I twirl in front of the mirror, watching the blazer flare as I move. Fucking fabulous.
Pleased as a peach with my work, I tuck my sweaty clothes into my bag and head back to the bus, aware I’m likely the last one ready to leave.
“I’d say I’m sorry for taking too long, but I wouldn’t mean it,” I quip as I approach, and three heads turn in my direction as I strut toward them.
A low whistle leaves my lips as I take in the view.
Eric is wearing snazzy deep-red pants with a classic white button-up, while Dmitri is head-to-toe black with a single red rose pinned to his shirt.
Tai, once again, effortlessly outshines me in coolness. His royal-purple velvet suit jacket is paired with black oversized pants, while a floral tie explodes in a vibrant rainbow of rich colors. He pops his lapels with a sly grin.
“Goddamn it, Tai. I knew I should’ve worn a dress,” I grumble before winking to let him know there’s no heat behind it.
“You look incredible,” a deep voice purrs in my ear, and I twist to face Dante.
“Oh, my stars,” I murmur, gaze sweeping over the delicious man before me.
He’s wearing a three-piece dark-gray suit with a pale-pink skinny tie and pocket square that somehow makes the whole look feel both sharp and soft.
“Holy… Dante, you look…” I shake my head, thoughts jumbled as I search for the right words.
“Dashing?” Dmitri proposes.
“Studly?” Tai adds.
“Like a street pimp?” Eric offers without missing a beat.
Dante steps forward, his fingertips gently brushing a stray strand of hair back from my face. His attention is solely on me as he offers a soft smile. “You were saying?”
“Are we fishing for compliments now?” Fuck, I sound breathy. He notices—right? He has to notice.
A shudder works its way up my spine as he leans in close. “Yes,” he murmurs against my ear.
“What is happening here?” I whisper as he flashes me the world’s sexiest grin. “Who is this charming, debonair gentleman and what have you done with my prickly little cactus named Dante?”
“You never answered the question,” he teases.
My entire body tingles at the low timbre of his voice. Placing my hands on his chest, I tilt my head up to meet his eyes, feeling strangely vulnerable as he looks down at me. He doesn’t budge, holding me there as I lean against him.
“You are perfection,” I whisper.
His lips twitch back in the slightest grin, and my head swims as I watch the tug of his mouth.
Every fiber in my body longs to close the distance between us, to taste those lips I’ve dreamed of for so long.
It’s all I can focus on—the heat of his body, the faint scent of his cologne, and the way his breath brushes my skin.
As I force myself to stay shock-still, I use the last of my brain cells that aren’t drooling to remind myself that it isn’t what he wants, and I have to respect that.
“Does anyone else feel like we shouldn’t be watching this?” Eric stage-whispers.
Dante finally breaks our stare-off, backing up just enough that my palms slide down his body. He wraps an arm around my shoulders and steers me toward the bus. “Come on, boys. We have a party to attend.”
Rest in peace, my heart. It was nice while it lasted.
“Now this is what I’m talking about, gentlemen.” I sit back in the cushy, horseshoe-shaped couch with my flute of champagne, watching the giant room full of gowns and suits swirl like a living kaleidoscope. “The high life. Upper crust living. The celebrity lifestyle.”
Eric rolls his eyes as I kick my feet up on the table. “We’ve been here for an hour, and I’ve only seen two semi-major celebrities.”
“That’s two more than you’d seen an hour ago.”
“Touché,” he mutters as Dmitri laughs and grabs his hand, weaving their fingers together.
My face scrunches up in disgust, and I pretend to gag at their interlocked fingers. “Ew, love.”
“So gross, right?” Eric says, squeezing Dmitri’s hand tighter. “I only do this for his sake.”
Dmitri’s eyes narrow at his fiancé. “Is that so? Well, if these hands are so gross, I guess I’ll just have to keep them to myself later.”
Eric’s face falls as he tugs Dmitri closer. “You know I was kidding,” he whines. “I love holding your hand. It’s my favorite hobby.”
Dmitri and I both chuckle as Eric slips on a smile that’s so unnaturally wide I’m not convinced his lips won’t crack from the strain. Dmitri leans forward to kiss him, and I twist so I’m facing Dante.
“Hi,” I whisper. “I’m proud of you, you know.”
Surprise flickers across his face. “Why’s that?”
I wave around, gesturing at the bustling party. “None of this would have happened without you. You’ve always been the one to keep us on track.”
“Well,” he says, reaching up and touching the tip of my nose with his pointer finger. “You’ve been the one who’s always kept me on track.”
“Did you just boop me?”
He grins. “I did.”
I consider his words as their warmth settles in my chest. “You hated me when I first joined the band.”
“Do you honestly think that?” He looks shocked as he backs up to get a better view of me.
“You were so opposed to me joining. Hell, you even tried to convince everyone else I wasn’t a fit. If you didn’t hate me, then why would you do that?”