Chapter Twenty-Eight
Kayden
The concert venue is packed when we arrive, and I soak up the buzzing atmosphere.
I want to remember everything about tonight.
I can’t believe Caleb got me tickets for The Emberline.
Life has been so busy lately that I completely missed that they were playing in Colchester.
When I asked him how he knew, he smiled knowingly, then just said, ‘A boyfriend should know things like that, don’t you think? ’
A boyfriend? Make that boyfriend of the fucking year! He subscribed to their newsletter so he wouldn’t miss them coming to the East Coast. How fucking adorable is that?
“You want a drink, baby?” Caleb hums against my neck, his voice keeping me grounded, his body sheltering me from the roaring ocean of people surrounding us.
I didn’t even know my favorite band was this popular on the East Coast. It’s wild.
There are at least a couple of hundred people in the old warehouse that was turned into a concert venue a few years back.
The air is humid, heavy with anticipation, people talking and shouting all around us.
I tighten my grip on Caleb’s denim jacket. “Can I just have a Coke?”
“Sure. Just wait here, okay?” He clasps my chin in his warm hand, his eyes connecting with mine.
“I’ll be right back. I won’t lose you.” Then he kisses me tenderly for all the world to see that I am his and he is mine, and my heart instantly settles.
Caleb knows I’m not fond of too many people, and that I get easily overwhelmed, but he knows how to make me feel safe, too.
I let go of his jacket, and Caleb gives me a reassuring smile before snaking his way through the wall of people toward the bar.
I track him the entire time, my eyes not leaving his back.
His hair is longer now, brushing against the collar of his jacket, and he just looks so fucking fiiine.
I smooth my T-shirt across my chest. I ended up choosing the white one with ‘Born this Way’ written across the chest in trans colors that Emily got me for my twenty-second birthday.
The Born is light blue, the this is white, and the Way is pink.
I’m wearing it as much for Silas, the lead vocalist of The Emberline, as I am for myself.
I want him to see trans pride when he looks into the crowd.
I want him to feel as seen by me as I feel seen by him.
He writes all the lyrics himself with his boyfriend Jonah, who’s the bassist in the band.
They’re around my age, and they’ve been together since high school.
They’re very open about their relationship and the ups and downs of their journey together.
Jonah was there all the way, from when Silas was still known to the world as a girl, through his transitioning, until now, when they’re playing music together and advocating trans rights every chance they get.
They’re both activists, and I admire them so much.
Jonah is open about being pan and talks a lot in interviews about the prejudice and stigma that come with being pan.
The misconception that pan people are promiscuous or confused about their identity is bullshit.
Nothing is further from the truth, and Silas and Jonah are living, breathing proof of that.
“Here you go.” Caleb holds out my drink in front of me, the cup filled with ice just the way I love it.
“Thanks.” I lift onto my toes and press a quick kiss against Caleb’s scruffy chin.
In a way, this is our first date. It feels amazing being out in public like this, with my boyfriend, kissing him in front of the whole world.
Caleb pulls me close, and I feel his semi brushing up against me, sending waves of desire shooting through my body.
The way I react to him is insane. I’ve never felt anything like it.
It’s like we are constantly on the same wavelength.
Perhaps it’s because I’ve known Caleb my entire life and he’s always been this steady presence, or maybe it’s because we give each other space to be who we are.
Regardless of what it is, I’ve never been happier.
I kiss him deeper, dipping my tongue into his mouth as I grind against him.
Someone hoots behind me, while someone else yells, “Get a room, you guys!” not a trace of malice in their voices.
We break away from each other, panting and laughing, Caleb’s eyes swimming with want, the dark gray almost black.
We both take a long sip from our drinks, and then the lights dim around us, and the crowd goes wild.
Fuck, this is it. I hope they play my favorite song, Run Wild, Run Home.
The lyrics mean so much to me. They kept me grounded whenever I was threatening to spin out of control.
Some days I’d play the song on repeat, letting Silas’ words and voice float through me, a distant promise that I’d one day be free, run wild, and find my way home.
There were days and nights when it was so fucking hard to believe, to keep believing, but now I’m here, I’m home.
Caleb grabs my hand and pulls me with him as we make our way closer to the stage.
When we reach a spot with a clear view, Caleb locks his arms around me from behind, and I lean back against his chest. “Love you, K,” he murmurs into my hair, then directs his gaze back toward the stage while he sips his drink. Love you, my heart echoes.
I’ve watched tons of videos of The Emberline concerts, and they always start the same way, like, it’s kind of a ritual of theirs.
And true enough, after a few minutes of anticipation, the band’s drummer, Alex Wilder, comes running out onto the stage, his drumsticks raised into the air above his head as he taps them together, enticing the crowd to clap along.
He’s in his usual attire: a black tank top and black jeans, torn at the knees, his muscular drummer’s arms adorned with colorful tattoos, his long black hair reaching his shoulders.
He’s got piercings all over his face, in his eyebrows, his nose, his lips, and his cheeks.
He looks more like he belongs in a punk rock band instead of an indie folk band.
He shakes his long hair, and the crowd goes wild.
I catch myself jumping up and down, screaming his name too, my drink sloshing all over the place. “Alex! Alex! Alex!”
He pumps his arms in the air, screaming his last name back to us.
“Wilder! Wilder! Wilder!” Then he turns and runs back toward his drums, throwing himself on the small stool.
He starts tapping his drumsticks against the drums, the sound growing from a quiet rap into a louder and louder primal thump, thump, thump.
My heart beats along with it as I place my arm on top of Caleb’s, squeezing him tightly.
Then, the moment the crowd has been waiting for arrives.
Alex leans in, still beating his drums, his voice low and raspy as he yells, “Let’s fucking do this, beautiful people! ”
We all scream, and Caleb laughs against my neck. The rest of the band comes running out onto the stage, waving at the crowd. Silas Reed, Jonah Aimes, and their violinist Ren Wilder, Alex’s younger sister.
“I fucking love you guys!” I scream at the stage, bouncing up and down, and Caleb laughs, “I fucking love you, K.” I look up, our eyes meeting, and I kiss him quickly. Then I stick out my tongue at him teasingly. “You know you’re dead to me right now, right, babe?”
“I know, but as long as I get to take you home, you can ignore me all you want.”
“You always get to take me home.”
Something flashes in Caleb’s eyes, but I don’t have time to dwell on it, because Jonah strokes his guitar and the familiar notes of Weeping Hearts wash over me.
Time disappears, and there’s only Silas’ melancholic voice, Jonah’s haunting guitar, the deep thrum of Alex’s drums, and Ren’s wistful violin.
I sing and scream until my throat is raw and my voice comes out raspy.
Tears pool in my eyes and trail down my cheeks when some of the lyrics hit too close to home, but Caleb wipes them away with his thumb, catching me every time with his stoic, ever-present calm.
I feel so loved and so at home in myself, like I’m lit up from inside with power and strength, and it’s as close to a spiritual experience as I’ll ever get.
This, right here, my man’s arms locked around me, my favorite band in front of me, and my people all around me, this is my fucking church, this is where I belong.
Eventually, Silas removes his guitar and grabs the mic. I know what comes next. Some lucky son of a gun gets to choose a song. I just hope it’s my song, too, because they still haven’t played it. The air is thick with anticipation as the crowd holds its breath.
“What’s going on?” Caleb asks.
“Just wait.”