Chapter Thirty-Nine #2
And the sound tears through me so hard it steals the breath from my lungs.
My eyes fill instantly, and before I can stop it, tears slide down my face. I wipe at them roughly, realizing I haven’t even called the taxi yet because I’ve been too busy trying not to collapse emotionally.
I take a shaky breath and force myself to move.
Because if I stand here any longer, I’m going to turn around and never leave at all.
***
I’ve met the guys from the other backing band, Recoil. They seem decent enough so far. Their lead singer, Danger, definitely has that typical frontman energy, though. Cocky as hell, he knows he’s attractive, and carries himself like the room should naturally revolve around him.
But annoyingly? He’s actually talented enough to back it up.
We spent a little while talking music earlier, and I’ll admit the guy has some genuinely solid ideas. Recoil’s sound is strong too. Not Staked or 12GAUGE-Slayed-level, obviously, but definitely far above average.
The problem is… he spent most of the rehearsal openly flirting with Ella.
And Chad noticed.
Actually, noticed is probably putting it mildly, considering Chad spent half the afternoon glaring at Danger like he was planning several different ways to bury his body in Wembley Stadium.
The second Danger walked away, Chad leaned over to me and muttered that he seemed like ‘a complete dickhead,’ which honestly makes me think this tour could end up very interesting where those three are concerned.
Hopefully, it all blows over quickly, though, because the last thing we need on our first major world tour is relationship drama exploding backstage.
Everyone’s hyped tonight. The atmosphere behind the scenes is wild.
After leaving Indi this morning, I was in a pretty dark mood. And then things somehow got worse when she messaged, saying there’d been an emergency at the hospital and she wouldn’t make it to Wembley tonight after all.
That one hurt.
Not only did I have to leave her behind, but the one final thing I’d been clinging to all day was knowing she’d still be here tonight, somewhere in the crowd.
And now she won’t be.
Still, once I got to the venue and the band finished yelling at me for being late, things slowly started improving.
Music always settles something inside me.
I’ve messaged Indi a few times throughout the day just to check on her, because hearing her cry after I left this morning completely wrecked me.
I know she tried so hard to hold herself together while I was there, but saying goodbye hurt her as badly as it hurt me.
The difference is I’ll have distractions constantly—music, fans, interviews, performances, chaos. Meanwhile, her life will continue normally… except without me in it every day. I hate that thought more than anything.
I hate knowing I’m not there beside her. That when she gets home exhausted after a shift, it’ll just be an empty apartment instead of me waiting for her.
At least she has Kenzi.
Thank God for Kenzi, honestly.
I’m standing side-stage while Recoil finishes their set, and my nerves are absolutely shot.
It’s Wembley-fucking-Stadium.
Actual Wembley.
I’ve dreamed about this place since I was a kid watching Dad and Colt perform here. And now I’m about to walk out there myself.
The rest of the band is nearby doing warm-ups while I try to shake some of the nervous tension out of my body. I don’t usually get this anxious before performing, but tonight is different. Everything about tonight feels bigger somehow.
My pocket suddenly vibrates, and I pull out my cell.
Indi calling.
Relief crashes through me so fast I nearly laugh.
This is exactly what I needed.
“Indi,” I answer.
She giggles softly down the line. “Yep, still me.”
Just hearing her voice settles me.
“Hey,” she says. “It sounds loud there. You having fun?”
“Yeah,” I admit, smiling despite myself. “Just wish you were here.”
God, I wish she were here.
“How come you’re calling?” I ask. “I thought you were working.”
“I am.” She lowers her voice. “I escaped to the cafeteria.”
I laugh quietly.
“I just wanted to wish you luck before your first Wembley show,” she says softly. “Couldn’t let you go onstage without giving you my good luck vibes first.”
“Well, thank you, baby. That means a lot.” I glance around backstage. “You sure you won’t get caught?”
“Oh, definitely. Which is why this call probably can’t last long.”
I grin. “Well, thanks for risking your nursing career for me.”
“You’re welcome.” I can practically hear her smiling. “Now go make Wembley fall in love with you.”
“I needed to hear your voice,” I admit. “I was nervous as hell before you called.”
“You? Nervous?” she teases. “The Caleb McCormack-Slade?”
“Shocking, I know.”
“Well, don’t be nervous. You belong there. But I should go before somebody notices I’ve vanished.”
“Okay, but thanks for calling.”
“And Caleb?”
“Yeah?”
“If I could’ve been there tonight, I absolutely would have.”
I close my eyes briefly. “I know, baby.”
There’s a small pause before she speaks again. “Now go show Colter Slade what real rockstars look like.”
I burst out laughing. “I’m absolutely telling him you said that.”
“Oh God, please don’t.” She laughs too. “He’ll never look at me the same way again.”
I grin like an idiot backstage while people move around us, preparing for the show. “Have a good shift,” I tell her.
“You too. Go have fun.”
Chad suddenly appears beside me, twirling his drumsticks between his fingers.
“Okay, baby,” I say quickly. “We’re up.”
“Knock ‘em dead, rockstar.”
“Always.”
“Bye, Caleb.”
“Bye, sweetheart.” I end the call, smiling like a complete fool, and shove my phone back into my pocket.
“We gotta do the pep talk thing,” Chad says seriously.
I snort. “Right. The highly masculine emotional support circle.”
“Exactly.”
I walk over with him toward Aston while the crowd roars out beyond the stage. The energy from Wembley is unreal, even from backstage.
“Okay guys,” I call out loudly. “Huddle up.”
Annie immediately moves toward us while Ella lingers, watching Danger finish the final song with Recoil. He’s working the crowd hard, full rockstar swagger and arrogance, and judging by the way Chad folds his arms and scowls beside me, he definitely notices Ella watching.
Annie notices, too, apparently because she sighs dramatically before grabbing Ella by the wrist and physically dragging her over toward us.
“Right,” Aston says while we all form a circle together for the very first show of our first world tour. “Let’s do this properly.”