Chapter 5
KATE
GLIMMER SWITCH
“It ain't the diamonds or the dress that makes the woman strong/It’s the nights she kept on fightin' when the world swore she was wrong.” Kate Riggs
My skin is still buzzing, and it’s not from nerves. Those were burned out under the lights, somewhere between my third song and the moment I realized the crowd was with me, I mean really with me.
It’s the kind of high no drug could touch. I’m on fire and floating all at once. It’s surreal.
Backstage is chaos in the best way, with makeup cases cracked open, sequins glinting under industrial lights, and voices overlapping in messy celebration. And in the center of it all—me. Kate Riggs. The girl, they said, would never play outside of bowling alleys and dive bars.
Tonight, I’m the opener who just owned the damn stage. And it feels fantastic, surreal even.
Shay is shimmying out of her black bodysuit like we’re in a race. “We have one hour before the clubs hit capacity,” she says, tugging a glitter mesh top over her head. “And you, my superstar friend, are not waiting in line tonight.”
I laugh and catch my reflection in the mirror.
My eyeliner is smudged. I have sweat-glossed skin, and there’s a halo of post-show chaos around my head—and still, I’ve never looked more like myself.
I peel off my dress, swapping it for a slinky red mini dress that Shay practically threw at me before we left the hotel.
She whistles. “Hot. Some man is gonna faint.”
I roll my eyes, but my smile’s too big to hide. “Well, you’re hot. You might get lucky.”
“Doesn’t matter,” she says. “I’m okay the way things are.”
But in my heart, there’s a hole that’s never been filled.
Tonight, I give myself a pass. I can be carefree and wild.
I’ve earned a hall pass. I might have a one-night stand.
I’m long overdue, and I’d love to be with someone even if it’s only for a night.
We’re in Vegas, what could go wrong? Besides, what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.
Shay throws an arm around me as we swipe on lipstick in the mirror. “You did it,” she says, softer now. “You’re really doing it. You’re making your dreams come true. I’m so proud of you.”
I nod, my throat tight with something fierce and grateful. “I’m just getting started.”
But inside, I’m nervous that this might be it. What if I peaked, and I’m going to slide back into that double-wide? What if I wake up tomorrow and this turned out to be just a dream?
We link arms and push out into the hallway. Rose spots me instantly, and that grin spreads across her face like gasoline meeting a spark.
“Let’s burn the town down,” she says, dispelling my fears. I need a night off from worrying, second-guessing every song I sang, and thinking I’m not enough. Because tonight? The city’s ours.
Tonight, Wade is just a ghost on a barstool, a reminder of what I’m running from.
I’m still wearing my boots. I bought my favorite designer ones with the paycheck from my first gig last year.
They’re vintage cowboy—distressed tan leather with stitching like flames licking up the sides.
I’ve scuffed them just enough to say I’ve danced til dawn in these, but they’re still polished sufficiently to catch the light. I slide them on and stand tall.
Country, but cool. Sweet, but savage. Like if Dolly had a dangerous streak.
Shay gives an approving nod. “You look like trouble wrapped in killer red.”
“Good,” I say, running a hand through my hair. “I’m in the mood to start some trouble.”