Chapter 36 Creed #2
He’s not flashy, but you don’t need to be when you’ve got the kind of presence he has. His eyes are locked on the crowd, the intensity in his expression making it clear he’s lost in the rhythm. You can feel him in the pit of your stomach with every strum.
Me? I’m driving the beat, the powerful pulse beneath it all. Every crash of the cymbals, every tap of the snare, it’s all falling into place. I don’t need to think about it. This is where I belong.
The song’s building, getting louder, heavier. I can feel the sweat on my skin, the tightness in my chest from the adrenaline. This is it. This is why we do this. The vibe, the noise, the eyes on us, it’s all here, in this moment. And I’m fucking alive in it.
Roman jumps into the crowd. The fans are reaching for him, pulling him into their energy, and he’s playing them, making them all part of the song. I can’t help the grin that tugs at my lips. This is what Wild Reverie does. This is why we made it so far.
The song hits its crescendo, and I feel it in my bones. Every hit, every note, every scream from the crowd. We’re not just playing music. We’re setting the stage on fire, igniting something they’ll remember long after we’re gone.
Roman’s pacing the stage, his arms raised in that signature gesture, conducting an orchestra of madness. I can hear the crowd’s cheers and screams blending with the music, and it’s all one big rush, one big moment that I can barely keep up with.
I glance to the side. Lola’s eyes are wide, her hands clasped in front of her, a grin plastered across her face. Sloane’s standing close to her, eyes locked on the stage, with that same quiet intensity that I’ve noticed in her before. But this time, there’s a spark—she’s seeing us in a new light.
And for a moment, it all comes together. The music. The crowd. The guys. Her. This moment, right here, right now, is all of us, carved into the air with nothing holding us back.
We’ve fucking owned it.
The lights flash out, leaving nothing but the echo of our last note, the tremor of the bass still vibrating in my bones.
And as the crowd goes wild, I meet Roman’s eyes. That grin of his is as wide as it’s ever been. Ezra’s nodding, that quiet satisfaction in his eyes.
We did it. We kicked ass.
The adrenaline is still pumping through my veins, but there’s this tightness in my chest, a feeling I can’t quite shake. The crowd’s roar is fading into the background, but the echo of it is trapped inside me, thrumming, buzzing.
I step off the stage, wiping sweat from my forehead, and the guys are already huddled together.
Roman’s got that damn smile plastered across his face, the one he always wears after a performance.
But this time, it feels different. There’s a certain electricity, something undeniable in the way we’re all looking at each other.
Sloane’s still standing by the side of the stage, her eyes locked on me for just a second before she quickly looks away. Her face is flushed from the heat, but she’s smiling, and it’s the kind of smile that makes my stomach flip.
Ezra’s looking at her too, and I can see the tension still hanging between them. I can feel it too, the shift. Something’s there. Something we’ve all been dancing around, trying not to acknowledge, but tonight, I think it’s impossible to ignore.
Roman slaps me on the back, grinning manically. “We nailed that shit, didn’t we?”
I nod, the words caught somewhere between my chest and my throat.
“Yeah. We did.”
But even as I say it, I know it’s more than just the performance. It’s everything. The way it felt to be on that stage, the way I felt when I saw Sloane watching us, the way everything just clicked tonight. It felt right.
The announcer’s voice crackles over the speakers, cutting through the last echoes of our performance.
“Ladies and gentlemen, give it up one more time for Wild Reverie!”
The crowd erupts, and the walls themselves start shaking.
But the competition isn’t over. Other bands are still going to perform, and we’re not the only ones hungry for that top spot.
As we make our way back to the side of the stage, I can hear the next band already warming up. Their sound is nothing like ours. Heavier, more industrial, almost mechanical in the way the bass thunders through the speakers.
The lead guitarist starts with a screech of feedback, like the amps themselves are being torn apart. There’s an energy to it that pulls at the edge of my nerves. I’m not sure what to make of it, but the crowd’s eating it up.
“Looks like they’re going for the ‘shock and awe’ tactic,” Roman comments, eyeing the band with a mixture of amusement and curiosity. “They’re not playing around.”
“They’re loud as hell,” I say, crossing my arms. “But they’re not us.”
Roman laughs. “Who is? Let’s just focus on what we do best.”
It’s a sentiment I can get behind.
The next band up is completely different. A softer, more melodic vibe.
They’re a three-piece, with a female lead singer who’s got a voice that cuts through the air like silk. It’s not my style, but I can see why people like it. The crowd quiets down as they start to play, their sound almost ethereal as the guitar strums in light, cascading waves.
“Whoa. This is… a whole different world,” Lola remarks, clearly entranced by the singer’s voice. She leans in, her eyes wide, caught up in the beauty of it all. “I feel like I’m floating.”
Sloane’s eyes are focused on the stage too, but I catch the slight shake of her head. She’s not as moved by it. I can tell.
The music’s gentle, almost fragile, and it lacks the rawness we brought, but there’s a kind of magic in the way the singer carries her voice. It’s the kind of performance that makes you want to sit down and listen, not jump around and scream.
“I don’t think they’re gonna blow the roof off like you did,” Sloane says quietly, but her smile is genuine.
I laugh softly. “No. But I don’t think they’re trying to.”
The band’s finished, and the crowd gives them a decent round of applause, but it’s nothing compared to what we got.
The next band starts up immediately after, and it’s like the atmosphere shifts again, back to something faster, more aggressive.
They’re punk, pure and simple, with a wild energy that grabs the crowd by the throat.
The singer’s throwing himself around the stage, shouting out lyrics that barely make sense, but it’s got that raw energy that people crave.
The crowd’s bouncing, moshing, living for the moment. It’s infectious, and you can feel the entire venue start to vibrate with the movement.
Roman raises an eyebrow. “Okay, now that is more our speed. This is the kind of madness I can get behind.”
I nod, my foot tapping in time with the beat. “Yeah, they’re doing something right.”
Ezra’s watching them too, but I can tell he’s not impressed. His eyes are sharp, calculating. He knows what works, and this isn’t quite it for him. But still, you can see the gears turning in his head as he watches the audience. It’s like he’s mentally taking notes.
It’s clear the crowd is into it. The energy is through the roof, and the vibe onstage is only feeding it.
But by the time the last band finishes and the announcer steps back onto the stage, the energy’s reached a peak. The crowd is hyped, restless, waiting for the final verdict.
Placements are being announced, and I can feel the tension radiating off Ezra in waves.
Especially as we get to the end of the evening.
“And the winner of tonight’s competition is…”
The world slows down, the words drawing all of us closer by the minute.
“…Wild Reverie!”
The joy doesn’t hit me right away. I blink, still trying to process the words, and then the whole place explodes, the noise, the excitement, the lights flickering and flashing.
I hear Roman whoop, Ezra’s laugh following close behind. I’m suspended in time, I’m not even in the room anymore. Just floating, watching everything happen.
And then I’m pulled back into it, into the moment as Roman grabs me by the shoulders and spins me around. “We fucking did it, Creed! We won!”
I feel something sharp and wild cut through the tension in my chest. It’s a relief. It’s pride. It’s all of it crashing over me at once.
“We really did,” I manage to say, a little hoarse from the screaming, the music, the emotions.
The guys are all laughing now, loud and giddy, the sound of our victory mixing with the roars from the crowd. I can see Lola in the corner, jumping up and down, her excitement contagious.
Sloane’s eyes are shining, and when I catch her gaze again, everything falls away. The tension between us? Gone. Just like that.
“Are you seriously not going to come congratulate us?” Roman calls out to her, gesturing for her to join the celebration.
Sloane hesitates for a second, her smile softening into something more uncertain. Then, she moves toward us, her steps slow but purposeful. I can feel the shift when she gets close. Her eyes meet mine, and for a moment, everything else falls away.
“You guys were amazing,” she says, full of admiration. “You really killed it out there.”
“Yeah?” Roman asks, already bouncing on his feet. “Well, we couldn’t have done it without you in the crowd.”
Sloane’s cheeks flush, and she glances at Ezra. “I don’t know what I did, but I’m glad I’m here for it.”
Roman cuts through the moment, “Alright, alright, we’re all winners here, but I think we need some drinks to celebrate!”
Lola shouts, “Hell yeah! Let’s make this a night to remember.”