41. epilogue
six months later the final night of 'the neverland tour'
“ Will someone call my sister so I can say my goodbyes? I can't handle this. Can you die from nerves? Is that a thing—”
“Will you relax?” Rory laughed, her eyes sparkling under the lowlights that flickered around the arena. “This is his final show. He knows the score by now. He’ll do great.”
"And I don't think you can die from nerves." Jess added before shrugging. "But I'm not a med student so if you die it's not my fault." Nerves fluttered in his eyes. "Don't die though. We like you too much."
I narrowed my eyes at him, my hands resting on my hunched knees. "If I do, you're not speaking at the wake."
"Aww." He mock puted, which pulled the smallest, tiniest smile out of me.
I could barely focus on any of their words, though. My heart was racing withthis awful mix of excitement and nerves, the kind that made it hard to stand still. It had been weeks—weeks since I’d seen him, really seen him. The texts, the calls, and the little updates he sent while on tour weren’t enough to calm the storm inside me. He was always busy, always on the move, and now... now he was finally here.
Finn, Rory, Daisy, Cora, and Jesse had all tried to talk me down, each onetaking turns throughout the day with their own version of “You’ll be fine,” but none of it worked. My mind was spinning too fast, bouncing between the nervous fluttering in my stomach and the pure thrill of knowing I’d be watching him, just moments from now, on stage, in his element.
I hadn’t seen him perform live yet—not since the album dropped. Iknew what to expect from the videos and stories I’d seen online, but being here, the energy in the room, the crowd buzzing—it was entirely different. My chest felt tight, but in the best way, like I was on the edge of something incredible. It wasn’t just his music I was excited for—it was seeing him again, being close to him after all this time.
I chewed my lip, practically bouncing on my high tops, my yellow dressswishing as I glanced toward the stage. I couldn’t help but grin, even though my heart was thumping so hard I could feel it in my ears.
Tonight was going to be everything. I could feel it.
“Here, eat this,” Finn said, handing me his bucket of popcorn thatwas already half gone. “Nervous snacking helps me before games.”
My hands grab the bucket and pull it to my chest. “Thank you,” Isigh, before diving in and scooping out a handful of salted— “Ew.” I cry, before narrowing my eyes at him. “Salted popcorn? What is wrong with you?”
Finn stuck his tongue out at me before snatching back the bucket, sending popcorn flying as it crashed into his chest. A chorus of laughter rippled through the group, and I couldn't help but join in, though the sound was tinged with a quiet ache in my chest. Summer was approaching fast, and with it came the reality that I wouldn't see these faces every day.
Daisy, Finn, and Jesse were heading back to Montana, and Cora hadplans in Montauk, spending the summer with her sister and new niece. It would just be Rory and me here in the city.
I cast a glance over at Rory, watching her smile fade just a little asshe gazed at Finn from the sidelines. After the year she'd had, happy days weaved between bouts of sadness, I silently promised myself I'd look after her this summer.
"Salted popcorn?" Cora sighed dramatically, shaking her head atFinn. "I think we need to call group court in session for this one."
Jesse barked a laugh, nudging Finn as he stepped closer into the circle. "Still on the salted phase?"
Finn shot him a middle finger, his smirk full of sarcasm. "Still on the walkman phase?"
Jesse put on a mock pout, rolling his eyes dramatically. "It's comfy. Sue me."
Finn raised his hands. "Whatever you say, Patrick Bateman."
"I prefer 'retro enthusiast,’ but you do you, man."
Daisy chimed in with a grin. "Hey, at least you're committed to the aesthetic."
Jesse winked. "Someone’s gotta keep it alive."
The banter circled around us, grounding me in our little corneredoff area right by the stage, but my thoughts kept drifting back to Tristan.
I thought about everything that had led up to tonight—about the conversations we'd had before we left, the talks about his future, what it all meant for us, and where his music was taking him.
“Cade just called me,” I remembered him saying, his voice thick with excitement. “He said I can stay on at Liberty, write throughout the year, and plan shows for the summer breaks. I get to stay, Gold’s. We’re gonna graduate together.”
That memory—his words, his smile—washed over me now, and just like that, the nerves I'd been carrying melted away, dripping off me like rain from an umbrella, lost to the shadows of the arena. For weeks, he’d waited on an answer from the label, wondering what would happen with the album, his position, his future. And in those weeks, I’d been there, by his side. I reassured him on the days when doubt clouded his mind, when his past took over and he felt the weight of what he’d done to get here pressing down on him.
He’d spent time with Nate after Thanksgiving, and it was Nate who referred him to his therapist, someone Tristan now saw once a week. And it helped. More than I’d thought it would, more than he had expected. I watched the change in him happen, slowly at first but then, all at once. He wasn’t hiding anymore; the things that haunted him were out in the world, and he was learning to live with them. Learning to be free from them.
And I’d never been prouder of anyone in my life.
“Here,” Daisy laughs and breaks free as she barges through herbrother and Jess, a takeout soda cup and a bag of Red Vines in her hand. “It’ll get your sugar up.” She takes a breath. “Can’t have you fainting in front of your boyfriend now, can we?”
Boyfriend. The word hit differently, especially knowing they had noidea. None of them did. Tristan and I had never told anyone about us. We didn’t need to. After months of figuring out that there had always been something between us, quietly simmering beneath the secrets, we decided there was no point in unearthing everything that we’d buried. To them, we were just, and had always been, us.
I moaned dramatically as I took the soda from Daisy, slipping thestraw between my lips. “They should erect statues in your honor,” I sighed, the rush of sugar hitting my system instantly.
My eyes rolled back in mock bliss, and Daisy chuckled, nudging my arm. “I’ll take it in white marble and nothing else.”
“Deal.” I took another long sip, grateful for the distraction, but mymind was still buzzing with anticipation, waiting for the moment I’d finally see him again.
“Woah, oh, oh… curtain movement.” Cora buzzed in the middle of thegroup. “I see curtain movement.”
I barely had a moment to process what Cora had said before thearena plunged into darkness, a sudden hush falling over the crowd, followed by a wave of deafening screams. My own voice was lost in the sea of excitement, my heart thundering as I called out, anticipation coursing through me.
Then, a single spotlight sliced through the fog, illuminating the rich maroon velvet curtain. His name appeared in elegant calligraphy, casting a shadow against the backdrop. My heart swelled, full of so much pride, so much longing, and every other emotion I'd tucked away in the time we'd been apart.
It all came rushing back at once. The nights I'd spent listening to his music, the times we’d shared, and the way it felt to be near him—all of it crackled in the air between me and that stage, filling me with a longing so fierce I almost couldn’t breathe.
And just as I was questioning what that sharp pang in my hearttruly meant, the curtains slowly parted. There he was—like a dark angel, stepping into the spotlight. Just him, and a microphone stand, dressed head to toe in black, as if he’d stepped straight out of my dreams and onto the stage.
“Good evening, New York,” Tristan's voice rang out, rich and velvety, sending a shiver that rippled down my spine. “It’s been a while.”
The roar of the crowd was like nothing I’d ever heard before. I spun in place, trying to soak it all in—the lights, the people, the electrified buzz that pulsed through the arena. And then I caught sight of our friends—his friends—each one glowing with pride, their expressions reflecting exactly what I felt. We were all his people, his family, in our own way.
“Now,” Tristan’s voice broke through again, and the crowd fell into a hush as if they were hanging on his every word. “Normally, I’d kick things off with ‘Neverland,’ but tonight’s a little different. Tonight’s special.”
My heart skipped a beat, thudding in my chest as his eyes swept over the crowd, searching... until they found mine. In that split second, the world fell away. The smile that curved on his lips wasn’t just for the crowd—it was for me, and it felt like being wrapped in warmth, in a love I never quite believed I could have.
He didn’t break his gaze as he spoke. “There’s a song on the album I’ve been holding back,” he said softly, “because I didn’t want to sing it until the person who inspired it was in the room.”
I felt the air leave my lungs, my friends stirring beside me with wide-eyed glances, but I was too far gone, too caught in the moment to respond.
“That boy is so down bad,” Daisy murmured, but her voice was distant, almost like background noise.
Tristan smiled, soft but full of meaning, and spoke again. “She was the first to hear it, on a rainy afternoon back in November, and she didn’t even know how much I was falling for her.”
My heart stopped, and my breath caught.
He looked straight at me, his expression tender. “So, Marigold,” he said, his voice warm with affection, “this one’s for you.”
With a flick of his fingers, he adjusted the strap of his guitar, the same acoustic one he’d taught me to play. His fingers danced over the strings, and just before the first note filled the air, he looked up once more, locking eyes with me again.
“This is Star Girl .”
I’d raced ahead of the others as we made our way backstage, my heart pounding with every step. I couldn’t wait. Not for a second. I needed to see him—just a moment alone before the chaos of congratulations and the crowd of faces would pull him away.
I weaved between stage crew and familiar faces from the band, barely noticing any of them. Then I saw him. Tristan. Standing just behind the curtain, waiting, bathed in the glow of the stage lights. The face I’d dreamt about for weeks, the one that grounded me every time.
I stopped in my tracks, taking him in. This was his element—the way he seemed to shine brighter after every song, like he was made for this. But tonight, after he finished that song, the one he’d written for me under the tree, there was an extra glow around him, and I couldn’t help but feel it radiating from me, too.
I cleared my throat softly. In an instant, his body turned, and the wide smile I loved stretched across his face as he closed the distance between us. I barely had time to breathe before his arms wrapped around me, pulling me close. His familiar scent—amber and warmth—washed over me, and just like that, I was home.
“Hello, Sunshine,” he murmured into the crown of my head, and all I could do was hold him tighter. His arms lifted me effortlessly, my feet leaving the ground as he spun us in a slow circle, lost together in the moment.
“Hello, Rockstar,” I whispered into his ear, wishing I could pause time right here. I wanted us to catch up, to soak in every second without the world rushing back in.
He set me down far too soon, his hands sliding down my arms before he pulled back just enough to take me in, his eyes searching mine, tracing the lines of my face like he was memorizing me all over again. “I missed you,” he said, his voice rough with emotion. “I missed you too fucking much.”
“Join the club,” I replied, wrapping my arms around his waist again, not even pretending to resist the pull to be close to him. I wasn’t ready to let go, not even for a second.
But right then, I heard the familiar cackles of our friends.
“Heyyy!!” Finn’s voice rang out as he rounded the corner, a grin plastered on his face. I reluctantly let my arms slip from Tristan, stepping back just in time for Finn to swoop in and pull Tristan into a bear hug. Jesse wasn’t far behind, jogging up with his own wide smile, and soon the three of them were in a tangled pile of laughter and camaraderie.
I stood back, watching the scene unfold, feeling nothing but pure happiness. It was like everything had come full circle—for Tristan, for all of them. They’d bonded in ways I hadn’t expected, just like I had with the girls. It made my heart swell, knowing that this group had become its own little family, in the best possible way.
I stepped back, finding Rory a few paces behind us, pulling her phone from her pocket and lifting it to her ear, while Cora and Daisy reached for me, nestling me beside them, their warmth and laughter wrapping around me like a blanket.
“Tristan, sweetheart,” Cora called from next to me, as the guys finally broke free from their huddle. “Don’t forget who was there for you when those Grammy nominations roll in. Plenty of room for us at those tables, you know.”
Daisy grinned. “Yeah, and not to pressure you or anything, but being in the same room as Taylor Swift would probably solve all my life’s problems. No big deal.”
Tristan smirked, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Something clicked as I looked around—a quiet realisation that took root in my chest. I was truly, undeniably happy. And the more that settled in, the more I understood just how much I hated my life before this. Before Liberty Grove. Before Tristan, before these people, this family we’d formed.
I knew this was just the beginning. That there were three more years ahead of us, filled with life, chaos, laughter, and whatever else the universe decided to throw our way. And I was ready—ready to embrace it all, daring the world to come at us with everything it had.
As I settled into Tristan’s side, his arm curling around me while he caught up with Finn and Jess, something felt off. A strange emptiness hovered around us, like we weren’t all here. I scanned the room, searching for what was missing, and that’s when I saw her.
Rory.
She stood there, frozen, her face pale as a ghost, silent tears carving paths down her cheeks. The world around me faded, my heart stopping as her eyes found mine, filled with something far worse than sadness—something broken, something I felt in my very soul.
Something had happened.
I slipped from Tristan’s hold, the warmth of his arm vanishing as cold panic settled in my bones. My steps quickened, turning into a sprint as Rory’s phone slipped from her trembling hands and clattered to the floor. She followed, slumping into a heap, her body drained of all strength.
“Rory?” I breathed her name, my voice shaking with fear as I dropped to my knees beside her, grasping her hands. They were shaking so violently it made my stomach twist. “Talk to me, Ror,” I begged, eyes locked on her tear-soaked face.
I turned, ready to shout for help, but I didn’t have to. The others were already rushing toward us, their faces mirroring the terror I felt.
Cora knelt behind Rory, her hands gentle on her back. “What happened?” she asked, voice steady but filled with concern.
But Rory’s sobs only grew louder, choking out any words she might’ve tried to say. The longer she cried without telling us, the harder it became to breathe, the tighter the knot in my chest pulled.
“Hey, hey, hey, Rory?” Finn’s voice cut through the tension as he fell between us, soft and gentle, not frantic like the rest of us. It was as if he knew the storm that was about to hit, and somehow, he was bracing for it. "Look at me."
Rory’s swollen eyes lifted slowly, locking onto his, and in that single second, the dam inside her burst. A fresh wave of tears poured down her face, each drop heavier than the last. The world around us fell into a suffocating silence, like even the air had stopped, waiting, preparing itself for what was coming.
“It’s my dad,” she finally choked out, her voice shattered and barely audible over the sound of her own sobs. Her entire body collapsed into Finn’s chest.
Another broken sob escaped her, muffled against his shoulder, as the words she should have never spoken spilled from her lips. “He’s dead.”
And in that moment, the world broke with her.