35. Mateo
MATEO
I can’t believe tonight is our last show.
And everyone who matters to me is here tonight. Mia and the twins, all of our friends, Talia, and even Crew—who convinced Talia and me that tonight was a special enough night for him to stay up past his bedtime.
Emerson is somewhere out there in the crowd too.
And there’s not even an ounce of sadness in me.
For months, I’ve been dreading this night.
The end.
But here I am, welcoming it with open arms. Almost looking forward to it.
Because I learned in these last few months, it’s really not the end.
It’s the beginning of something so much better.
And the anticipation is almost overwhelming.
These last few months have taught me that it’s the small moments that matter. The ones that happen in day-to-day life. The ones that happen so naturally you almost don’t even notice them. The ones I have the rest of my life to look forward to.
It’s the small moments that mean something.
It’s Crew—and Emerson—who mean something.
Like when I came home the night of our Valentine’s Day show and found the two of them curled up in matching Halloween pajamas and a half-empty box of chocolates abandoned between them.
Crew had fallen asleep with chocolate all over his face and an arm slung over Emerson’s waist, like even in his sleep he didn’t want to let her go.
Like all those days in March where the three of us fell into our routine—the one I went to bed each night excited to wake up and do it all over again the next morning, even as domestic and refreshingly ordinary as it was.
Breakfast, soundcheck, Crew's endless questions, more games of Go Fish than any grown man should ever be forced to play, coming back to the bus or the hotel after a show and finding Crew fast asleep, usually with Emerson nearby.
Somewhere along the way, that became my favorite part of the day.
Along with the moments that got harder and harder to define, the little moments I started to look forward to more than I should.
The way Emerson would stand in front of me before a show and fix my hair, muttering something like “don’t mess up.” The way her fingers would linger for half a second longer than they needed to. The way she looked at me when she thought I wasn't paying attention.
We never acknowledged any of it.
Never talked about the way my eyes automatically searched for her in a room.
Never mentioned the way I would suddenly forget what I was saying halfway through a sentence whenever I stood too close.
Never corrected Theo, Silas, or Eddie when they yelled at us to stop flirting.
But we both noticed.
We haven’t crossed a line—not really.
I didn’t steal any more pairs of her underwear.
She didn’t send me any more videos to watch when I’m alone and left aching for her.
Because the dangerous part was never one of us crossing the line.
It was realizing neither of us seemed interested in finding it anymore.
And tonight, I plan on doing something about it, and I’m fucking terrified.
Because I’m falling in love with Emerson Hasting.
Crew and I have a special surprise tonight, and that’s exactly why I made sure a member of our stage crew had Emerson and her friends ushered to the front of the VIP section with my family and friends, an area sectioned off just for the people who matter most to me, Eddie, Theo, and Silas.
I’m not usually this nervous for a show, but I’ve also never gone on stage with the plan to basically confess to Emerson that I’m all in—whatever she wants that to mean.
I don’t want to say goodbye after this last show. I want to see where she and I can go from here—if she wants me.
I shake my hands out, bouncing on my toes as I tilt my head from side to side. The nerves are buzzing just under my skin, and I can’t sit still.
“Hey.” Eddie joins me in the wing. “I forgot to ask you how you managed to keep Crew’s rehearsals with us this week from Emerson?” Eddie asks, and it helps me focus on something other than how nervous I am.
With the special surprise I have planned tonight, I needed to make sure Crew felt comfortable on stage with me. And I had to do it without Emerson knowing.
“Talia kept her busy,” I tell Eddie.
Lucky for me, Emerson and Talia really hit it off, so I was able to enlist my ex-wife’s help to keep Emerson distracted while I brought Crew to a few rehearsals.
“How long is Talia in town?”
“She’s actually home for good,” I answer, happy to share the good news.
Talia worked her ass off getting trained at the Paris agency, and she really proved herself to the current owner in the months she was there. The transfer of ownership happened a few months earlier than they initially planned, and Crew is so happy to not only be home but be home with Talia.
Pepper, on the other hand, was not as happy to have Talia home.
Apparently, the stupid cat refused to go back to Talia’s, hiding under my bed when Talia tried to pick her up last week after she landed in Milwaukee.
She hates me yet refuses to leave my house.
“Do you think Crew is nervous to come on stage?” Eddie asks.
I shake my head, smiling as I remember the look on Crew’s face when I asked him if he wanted to help me surprise Emerson. “I don’t think the kid has ever been so excited for something.”
Eddie chuckles just as Silas and Theo come over to join us.
“Can you assholes believe it?” Silas says, slinging his arm over my shoulder.
“Our last show,” Theo says on a sigh.
“It doesn’t feel real.” Eddie crosses his arms over his chest as he peeks out into the crowd—no doubt trying to spot Mia and his daughters.
“It’s hard to believe how far we’ve come,” Theo adds, doing the same with his wife and two sons.
Backstage feels like it’s missing something with Emerson and Crew out in the crowd, but it’s fitting for this last show to just be me and the guys.
Saying goodbye to what we spent so many years working towards, and what we’ve accomplished together, felt like a day that would never come, yet here we are.
“Remember when we thought we made it when Emmett let us perform at Lenny’s every week?
” Silas laughs, and the floodgate of memories from our early days opens wide.
Nights playing in the corner of the dive bar because the owner was a friend of mine and Eddie’s, and his wife convinced him to build a makeshift stage in the back corner.
“It’s almost like we should be performing there instead of at this place.
” Theo looks up, and the rest of us follow suit.
The high ceilings of the venue, the huge stage lights, the entire place feeling too big to even take it all in.
“It’s our last show, and it still doesn’t feel real that we can fill a space this massive. ”
We all nod in agreement, silence falling over us.
“Five minutes, fellas,” our stage manager says, a sad smile on her face as she adjusts her headset before moving on to finish making sure everything is all set to go.
There’s a different kind of buzz in the atmosphere for this show—there’s the usual anticipation and excitement among the bands and the crew, but there’s also a quiet recognition that this journey is winding down, a sense of finality in the air.
“Can’t wait to watch you guys kick ass out there for one last time.” Liam’s voice chimes in, followed by similar sentiments from the other Sugarcoated Lies band members.
Silas claps Liam on the shoulder. “We’re really proud of you guys.”
Theo, Eddie, and I nod in agreement.
“We can’t thank you all enough for giving us this chance,” Liam says.
Sugarcoated Lies worked like hell this entire tour, jumping at the opportunity that ended up being exactly what they needed. They officially signed with a record company back in the spring, and it sounds like they’ll be headlining their own tour in the near future.
And selfishly, it’s kept Liam busy enough to not come looking for Emerson.
“Thank this guy.” Eddie points to me. “He saw something in you guys and really vouched for you. He’s always had an eye for the bands that have what it takes.”
Liam reaches out his hand, and I take it in mine. “Thank you, Mateo. You changed our lives.” The other Sugarcoated Lies guys add similar sentiments, each shaking my hand as they do.
Pride blooms in my chest, the same way it does when I’m on stage watching the people in the crowd take what they need from our songs for themselves when we perform.
Bands like Liam’s understand the power their songs have, and I’m just happy our fans will still have that to turn to even though Cross My Heart isn’t touring anymore.
“I know you’re going to be busy saving people from burning buildings and shit,” Silas says once Sugarcoated Lies heads back to their greenroom, leaving the four of us with a few minutes before our cue.
My volunteer firefighter training starts when we get back home, and, ever since I told the guys, Silas loves to bring it up whenever he can—he might think he’s teasing me, but he just sounds jealous. “But Eddie’s right.”
“Right about what?” I ask.
“You know what to look for in bands trying to find their big break,” Silas clarifies.
I shrug my shoulders. “Someone gave us our shot. Might as well help another band get theirs.”
“You don’t have to stop with Liam’s band,” Theo adds. “We know you’re set on training to volunteer at the fire station now that we’re back home, but it would be a shame if you left music for good.”
I shake my head, my palm going to the back of my neck, rubbing the skin as if it will make the heat building there go away. “All I’ve ever done is sing the songs Eddie writes and that you guys play.”
“Is that what you think?” Eddie asks, and my gaze shoots to him. “You are these songs, Mateo. Sure, I write the lyrics, but you’re the one who makes the words mean something. You see the lyrics not for what they are but for what they can be. It’s what you did for Cross My Heart.”
“And what you did for Sugarcoated Lies,” Theo agrees, nodding his head. “Without you, we wouldn’t be what we are.”
“Guys—” my voice cracks, emotion clogging my throat.
“Just think about it,” Silas says, allowing me a moment to gather myself. “Maybe you can just keep an eye on the Milwaukee local band scene. I’m sure there are four idiots trying to make it big.”
I huff out a laugh, opening my arms to the three idiots I got to share this dream come true with. We wrap each other in a group hug, just as the stage manager says it’s time.
And it is.
For the very last time.