Wavelength

96

Sasha

The automatic doors slide open with a rush of cold air, pulling us back into the city.

Back toward dancing. Toward our heroes playing our favorite songs. Toward singing along and merging into the sound.

And I’m crying. I get to give all of my voice to the people who came back for me. Who surround me, who make me realize this time I’m not just trying to disappear, I’m coming home.

Together, we’re going to catch the noise we’ve been chasing down, and we’re going to scream for an encore.

Don’t turn on the houselights yet. Our show isn’t over.