Chapter 13
SAME
Every song I've ever sung
Has been a love letter in disguise
Tonight I'm done with hiding
Some write their love in verses
Some paint it in the stars
But baby, my love was written
In color-coded charts
- The Wild Ones, "Love by Numbers"
T he thing about performing is that sometimes the lights are so bright you can't see the audience.
Sometimes that's a curse.
Tonight it was a blessing.
"You ready for this?" Justice asked as we waited in the wings. The roar of the crowd vibrated through my bones, but for once, my racing heart had nothing to do with stage fright.
"No." I adjusted my guitar strap. "But I'm doing it anyway."
"That's my boy." He clapped my shoulder. "For what it's worth, I haven't seen Faye all day."
My stomach twisted. "Thanks. That's... not super helpful."
He grinned. "She’ll be here. I know it."
"Places!" The stage manager called out.
This was it. No turning back.
We took our positions on the darkened stage—Justice center, me to his right, Felix and Radley creating our foundation. The same setup we'd had for years, except nothing felt the same.
Because tonight, I wasn't just Sam Dogg, lead guitarist of The Wild Ones.
Tonight, I was just a boy with a guitar, finally brave enough to tell the truth.
The lights hit. The crowd roared. And we played.
Song after song, building the energy, feeding off the audience's response. I played on autopilot, my mind already on the final number. On the words I'd written in margins and hotel rooms and quiet moments watching Faye work.
Finally, Justice stepped up to his mic. "You've been amazing tonight!"
The crowd roared their approval.
"But we've got one more song for you. Something new. Something..." his eyes found mine. "Something real."
My heart thundered as I stepped up to my own mic. This wasn't unusual—we often shared vocals.
"This one's called 'Maybe That's Enough,'" I said quietly. "And it's for the girl who's been running my world since high school."
I glanced at the wing hoping Faye would be there, only to see her spot empty.
Fuck.
The opening chords felt different under stadium lights. More exposed. More real.
Fuck. Here we go.
"Early morning coffee runs
Late night sound checks
You've got the world on your shoulders
And I've got you on my mind
The way you scrunch your nose at my jokes
How you know just when I need
A gentle word, a quiet moment
Maybe that's enough…”
I closed my eyes, letting the melody carry me. Letting years of quiet love pour into every note.
"Maybe it's enough to love you from the wings
While you orchestrate everything
Maybe it's enough to catch you when you fall
Though you never fall at all
Maybe it's enough to know your perfect pace
To match your steps in this dance we face
Maybe loving you in silence
Maybe that's enough.”
Justice's harmony wrapped around the chorus, supporting but never overshadowing. Radley and Felix joined in, adding to and building the song. The crowd swayed, phone lights creating a sea of stars.
But I wasn't singing for them. I was singing for the woman who had my heart wrapped in her fist.
“You count breaths between disasters
I count moments till you smile
You're arranging all our chaos
Into neat and perfect rows
And I'm collecting all these seconds
Like photographs I'll never show
Of how you look when you're unguarded
When your walls are running low.”
We shifted into the chorus, and I forced my eyes open, watching the sea of light dance before me in the cold winter air.
"Maybe it's enough to love you from the wings
While you orchestrate everything
Maybe it's enough to catch you when you fall
Though you never fall at all
Maybe it's enough to know your perfect pace
To match your steps in this dance we face
Maybe loving you in silence
Maybe that's enough.”
My voice waivered on the last line. Turned, ready to launch into the final chorus, and that's when I saw her.
Faye.
Standing in the wings where she always stood, but different. Her eyes were bright, her cheeks flushed, and in her hands... was that a laptop?
I turned directly toward her, singing to her, pouring myself into each word, each note, each breath.
“But what if it's not enough?
What if I'm tired of pretending?
What if every song I've written
Has been begging you to see
That maybe we could be
Everything we're just pretending….
Maybe it's not enough to watch you anymore
Maybe we could be something more
Maybe it's time to step out of the wings
And show you everything
Maybe loving you in silence
Was never enough at all
Maybe we could be something more
Maybe that'll be enough
But what if it's not enough?
What if I'm tired of pretending?
What if every song I've written
Has been begging you to see
That maybe we could be
Everything we're just pretending….
Maybe it's not enough to watch you anymore
Maybe we could be something more
Maybe that’ll be enough.”
The final note faded. The crowd erupted.
And I couldn't look away from Faye.
She didn't run.
She didn't hide.
She just stood there, watching me with a look I’d never seen before—a mix of nerves and something softer, something vulnerable.
That’s when I knew she’d been listening to every word, that she’d heard the confession woven through every line, every chord. My heart pounded as I took her in, every detail crystal clear against the darkened backdrop of the crowd.
There was something new in her eyes, something raw and unguarded, and it took me a moment to realize that she was looking at me like she saw me—really saw me. Her look sent a jolt of electricity through me, made my breath catch in a way I wasn’t prepared for. I’d laid myself bare tonight, letting her hear every hidden piece of my heart, and now… now, she was looking at me like she understood.
Like maybe she felt it too.
She held out her hand, a smile I'd never seen before—part nerves, part determined, all Faye.
I handed my guitar to a waiting tech and crossed to her, heart in my throat.
"Faye, I?—"
"Shut up." She grabbed my hand. "Come with me.”
Confused and hurting, I did exactly as she asked.