31. Epilogue
The tour bus rolled down the highway, the faint vibration running beneath my feet. The soft glow of the TV screen flickered above me, and nearby, a handful of bandmates lounged, chatting and laughing.
I sat in the corner, my knees tucked up against my chest, scrolling through my phone, my attention focusing between that and the TV. That’s when a sudden news report filled the screen, the anchor’s urgent voice coming through.
Breaking News: Former President Jacob Martin Reported Missing.
My chest tightened as the anchor continued.
“Authorities confirm that Jacob Martin, the 48th President of the United States, has been reported missing. Martin was last seen at his lake house in Maryland earlier this week. While investigators have not released further details, sources suggest foul play has not been ruled out.”
The image on the screen shifted to a photo of Jake, smiling in that polished, practiced way that once captivated a nation. My stomach twisted, but not with fear. It was something far more thrilling.
Across the room, Charlie leaned against the kitchenette counter, laughing at something a bandmate had said. His ease was mesmerizing, his charm effortless, as if nothing in the world could touch him.
Then, the anchor’s words must have reached him; his eyes flicked to the screen, catching the headline. He lingered there for just a moment before his gaze shifted to me.
A slow grin spread across his face. It wasn’t the easy, charming smile he flashed for cameras or fans. It was darker, sharper, full of a knowledge we didn’t need to speak of aloud.
My heart pounded as adrenaline shot through me, spreading like fire.
He knew it.
Now I knew it.
And that unspoken understanding passed between us in the space of a single glance.
Charlie looked back to his bandmate, his laugh returning, casual and unbothered, like he hadn’t just confirmed what I had suspected all along.
I leaned back in my seat, my fingers resting lightly against my lips as I tried to calm my racing heart. The anchor’s voice droned on, speculating on Jake’s disappearance, but the words faded into the background.
I should have felt guilt. I should have felt fear or regret.
All I felt was exhilaration. Pride .
I glanced at Charlie again, watching the way his shoulders shook with laughter, the relaxed stance of his body, turning to glance at me every few moments, as if he was unable to help himself.
He did this—for me.
I let a small smile curl at the corner of my lips, a quiet acknowledgment of what we’d done and where it had brought us.
This was who we were now. This was who I was now.
And I wouldn’t change a thing.