Chapter 24
TWENTY-FOUR
The backstage area wasn’t as terrifying as Emmett had imagined it to be.
Probably because only a handful of acts were performing on opening night.
Show founder and crazy popular artist Anthony Kross was currently doing his set with the competing band Chasing Daydreams, which had won the popular vote online to play opening night.
They were good. Really good.
Another band was set to go on right after XYZ, but Emmett couldn’t remember their name. Two albums out, they were getting a ton of promotion for a third, and had a popular single set to break out any moment.
Once upon a time, such a thing had been Lincoln’s dream. Maybe it was still possible, maybe not. But Lincoln was going to get his moment to shine, no matter what. And Emmett was going to help him.
Dominic had been the sneaky one who’d cracked the plan.
He’d also been the one to convince Benji to fake a sore throat today, so that Emmett could sing.
All three of them had agreed that this was Emmett’s best chance to prove to Lincoln he was worth a second chance.
He had to prove that he could support Lincoln no matter what.
He had to show Lincoln how much he loved him.
Right after he threw up again.
Emmett made it to the trash can before he hurled, yacking up the final remnants of his dinner.
Not that there was a lot to come back up.
He’d been wound tight all day long, and he’d barely managed half of a turkey sandwich and a few pretzels from one of the booths.
Lincoln handed him a bottle of warm water, so he could slosh and spit.
“It isn’t too late to let Trey do this,” Lincoln said.
Not for the first time, either.
“I’m doing this.” Emmett straightened. His stomach was still squirrelly, but being close to Lincoln helped calm some of his nerves. He knew he wouldn’t be doing this with anyone else. “I promise you, Linc. I can do this. Do you believe me?”
“I believe that you believe it.”
Onstage, Kross wound down a frenetic—and somewhat edited—cover of “Down with the Sickness,” to a lot of audience appreciation.
The noise only reinforced how big a crowd was out there, but Emmett couldn’t focus on that.
All he could think about was the four guys going onstage with him in a few minutes.
Of singing a song that meant so much to him to a man he loved with his whole heart.
Nothing else mattered.
“Thank you, thank you!” Kross’s voice echoed through the various speakers.
“Up next, we have another special treat for you folks. We did online polls this spring, asking you all who you wanted to see from last year’s category winners, and the people have spoken.
While they aren’t performing together anymore, we did find three of the four original members of XYZ. ”
The name caused a slight frenzy of applause and cheers that made Dominic do a giddy little dance.
With Benji on the keyboard and Lincoln providing bass, he was playing his violin tonight—his first time ever with Lincoln and XYZ.
The pride Lincoln constantly shot Dominic’s way told Emmett without words that this was a big deal.
“Joining XYZ members Benji Moore, Lincoln West, and Dominic Bounds”—big cheers for Dominic—“is current Fading Daze percussionist Andy Compton”—a wolf whistle for Fading Daze—“and making his Unbound debut, Emilio Sharif Westmore.”
Emmett’s insides seized up and he stopped all forward motion.
Lincoln crashed into him from behind, and when their gazes met, Lincoln lifted his sunglasses.
Emmett saw the challenge in Lincoln’s eyes.
The challenge for Emmett to go out there and embrace not only the spotlight, but himself in it.
To take this final leg of his journey toward self-acceptance.
Lincoln dropped the glasses, then held out his hand.
Emmett took it, and they walked out onstage.
Into the heat of the stage lights, dimmed to levels that Lincoln could tolerate.
He ignored the sea of people in front of him, barely obscured by the lights all around them.
He went to the microphone stand near Lincoln’s chair, both of them nearly center stage.
Emmett kept his back to the audience while his bandmates for the night settled in.
Andy gave his drums and cymbals a few test taps, then nodded he was ready.
Benji gave a thumbs-up from behind his keyboard.
Dominic placed his chin on the shiny violin’s rest and touched the horsehair bow to strings.
Emmett turned to face Lincoln, whose entire face was lit up bright.
He smiled in a way that Emmett had never seen, with an excitement he wanted to bottle up and keep forever.
Used to being the center of attention, Lincoln altered the angle on his own mike and said, “How is everybody tonight?,” on a rising shout meant to stir a reaction.
And it did. Cheers erupted to Emmett’s left, a thundering noise that sent his pulse racing and made his hands sweaty. His chest spasmed once, but Lincoln’s proximity helped.
“I need to give a big shout-out to all of the fans who voted to see XYZ perform this year,” Lincoln continued. “A few months ago, I never imagined I’d be on a stage like this again, much less performing for you guys with two of my best friends on the planet. So thank you and enjoy!”
Andy waited for some of the applause to die down before he began tapping out the beat.
Lincoln joined in first, Benji a moment later.
Emmett closed his eyes, angled slightly more toward the audience, and with his heart in his throat and his soul flayed open, he sang.
He sang the words with power and love, accompanied by Dominic’s gorgeous strings, pouring everything he had into the lyrics.
He’d played “The Sound of Silence” dozens of times with Lincoln, but never like this.
Never with such a swelling intensity. Never with a climax that made him want to weep for its beauty.
Never with so many accompanying voices that sounded like the whispers of angels.
Every single thing about those moments was perfect.
The final notes petered out beneath the thunder of claps and screams and whistles, and Emmett blinked against tears as he opened his eyes. And then his entire world was Lincoln—holding him, hugging him, kissing him soundly in front of the band, the audience, and Allah Himself.
And Emmett kissed him back. With love and passion and gratitude and so many other things swirling inside, a vortex of emotions that tried to swallow him whole.
“Ladies and gentlemen, XYZ!”
Kross’s announcement barely made it through to Emmett’s hazy brain. He vaguely registered being led backstage, a seemingly endless amount of hugs and back slaps and kisses on the cheek, and a lot of people talking. He simply rode wave after wave of happy while it lasted.
Lincoln found him again, and Emmett clung tight, pressing his face into Lincoln’s neck, inhaling familiar scents of sweat and cologne. “I am so fucking proud of you,” Lincoln said. “Fuck.”
“Me too. Proud of you too.”
“I’m sorry I doubted you.”
“You had every right to doubt me.” Emmett raised his head, surprised to see Lincoln’s sunglasses perched on the top of his head. Unsurprised to see his blue eyes glistening. “I just hope you don’t anymore.”
“I don’t. I don’t doubt your sincerity or your feelings for me, or that you pursued me with only the best of intentions. I promise.”
“Good. Thank you.”
“You did good, Em. Thank you for being patient with me through all of this.”
“Slow and steady wins the race, right?”
“This time it sure as hell did.”
“Come on you two,” Dominic said. He invaded their embrace and wrapped an arm around each of their necks. “You can make out later. Right now, we celebrate a fucking job well done!”
“I’m down for that,” Lincoln said. “Em?”
“Sure.” He angled to look Lincoln in the eyes again. “How’s your head? For real?”
“Adrenaline’s making me a little dizzy, but no sign of a headache.”
“First sign, you take a pill and go lay down. Don’t ignore it. Bravado and a migraine will not get you laid later.”
“Yes, sir.”
Dominic laughed, then smooched Lincoln’s cheek. “Finally, someone to keep your ass in check. He’s a keeper, my friend.”
“I know,” Lincoln said. “It just took me a little longer to see it.”
Emmett’s chest swelled to bursting with pride and love and peace.
Pride in the music that he and Lincoln had created together.
Love for the man who’d claimed his heart and forgiven him for keeping a terrible secret.
And peace for himself. Hearing his birth name called over the speakers tonight had terrified him as much as it had thrilled him.
His name didn’t matter. The thing that mattered most was the man he grew into and lived as—he was the man who had proved himself to Lincoln, and who would spend the rest of his life loving him.
He no longer walked alone in restless dreams. He’d disturbed the silence surrounding his life, and in its place created beautiful music.
Emmett couldn’t imagine it any other way.
Lincoln thrust once more, not bothering to censor his cry as his climax tore down his spine and pumped out through his dick. Beneath him, Emmett jacked himself to completion, their eyes never losing contact, the ankles resting on Lincoln’s shoulders trembling as he closed in on his own orgasm.
“Come on, babe,” Lincoln said. “Come for me.”
Emmett made a desperate, needy sound. Lincoln bent to bite his nipple, and Emmett yelled.
He tightened around Lincoln’s cock, and Lincoln bit harder.
Warmth splashed his chin. Emmett shook and thrashed beneath him, loud and alive and so fucking wanton.
Neither of them cared if they were heard outside the camper.
They’d all negotiated private time to celebrate.
Well, not Bobby or Benji, but if they came back from the big party with a groupie to fuck, they’d be added to the schedule.
He eased Emmett down from his high with soft kisses on his chest and throat.
Boneless legs flopped to the bed on either side of Lincoln’s knees, so Lincoln pulled out.
He dumped the condom on the floor, then tugged Emmett into an embrace that was all sweaty limbs, heaving chests, and panting breaths.
He inhaled the heady smell of sex, stupidly grateful to have won the coin toss to go first. Not only because he’d been desperate to fuck Emmett again after their mind-blowing performance, but because it was only them in the room. Their sweat and semen and musk.
Room spray only did so much in an enclosed space.
“I’m missed this,” Emmett said. “Missed you. So much.”
“Me too.” He ran his fingers through Emmett’s damp hair. “I can’t believe I almost pushed you away.”
“I’m so grateful you gave me a second chance.”
“Well, you were persistent about it, and thank fuck for that.”
Emmett nuzzled his throat. “Something this special doesn’t go down without a fight. I couldn’t lose anyone else I loved.” He raised his head, his eyes dancing with an odd mix of amusement and concern. “And in the interest of keeping your trust, I need to confess to something.”
Lincoln fought back a flash of panic. “Okay.”
“Benji faked his sore throat so I could step in and sing tonight, but it was totally Dominic’s idea first, and they both really wanted us to get back together so you’d stop being miserable.”
He started laughing at the earnest, word-vomit way Emmett admitted what he’d kind of suspected, especially after Benji went straight to the Bacardi tent with them post-performance and started downing mixed drinks.
“That doesn’t surprise me at all. Sometimes I think Dom knows me better than I know myself. ”
“He knew the best way for me to show you I love you and can be trusted again.”
“I still can’t believe you did that for me. Sang for me.”
Emmett kissed the tip of his nose. “I did it for us. So there would be an us.”
“And you were amazing, by the way. I’d be surprised if you didn’t get a call or ten from some agent, manager, or band in need of a front man. You’ll be beating down offers with a stick.”
“Not after being introduced as Emilio Sharif Westmore.”
“Times are changing. There are people out there who don’t care if you’re Emilio, Emmett, or The Big E from the Sea.”
Emmett started laughing. “The Big E from the Sea. I like that. You should call me that from now on.”
“Not a chance. I like Em just fine. He’s a pretty fantastic guy.”
“You’re pretty amazing yourself. Seriously, though. Now that performing at Unbound has been achieved, what’s next? What do we work for now?”
Lincoln hadn’t been able to imagine his life past tonight’s performance.
It had consumed him for the last two months, and now he had the rest of the summer open.
And after summer, the fall, and then the winter.
His entire life was like an empty sheet of music paper, waiting for someone to lay down the arrangement.
Endless possibilities lay ahead. Notes, chords, lyrics, beats, all up to him.
Up to them.
“Let’s talk about it tomorrow,” Lincoln said. “We have plenty of time to figure it all out.”
“Okay.” Emmett rested his head on Lincoln’s chest, directly over his heart. “I love you.”
“Love you back, babe.”
He did. So much.
Their future was still waiting to be composed, but with Emmett by his side, Lincoln knew the music they created together would be perfect.
Thank you for accompanying me on Emmett and Lincoln’s journey!