Chapter 35 The Stage Beckons
THE STAGE BECKONS
LILY
Enzo is still kind of an asshole. That much is clear as the three of us stumble out of the cramped bathroom. His usual self, cocky smirk firmly in place as he glances over at me.
My hair’s a mess, and my face is flushed, but I’m not the least bit sorry. Enzo leans against the wall on the other side of the bathroom, arms crossed, his dark eyes twinkling with unspoken amusement as he watches me try to collect myself while I exit.
Jax follows close behind, looking a little too smug for my liking, shaking his head with a grin, as if we’ve just confirmed every suspicion he’s ever had about me. We walk as a silent group across the backstage and I feel lighter than I have in days.
“Look at you three,” Dylan’s voice cuts through the dressing room, dripping with teasing mockery as we enter. He’s sprawled across the small couch, one arm thrown over the back, grinning like a cat with cream. “Thought we’d have to send a search party out there to find you.”
“Shut up,” I shoot back, still trying to smooth my hair and keep my laughter at bay. “You’re just jealous no one wants to sneak off to a bathroom with you.”
Dylan winks, leaning forward with an exaggerated smirk. “You wouldn’t be saying that if you gave it a shot.”
Marcus looks up from tuning his guitar in the corner, giving us a nod like he’s the only sane one in this group. “We’re on in ten,” he announces, his tone calm but laced with authority.
It’s been weeks of city after city, venue after venue, and yet somehow, tonight feels different.
The energy’s sharper, more electric, vibrating under my skin like a live wire.
The familiar pre-show buzz hits me like a shot of caffeine.
The noise from outside grows louder, a low rumble shaking the walls of the venue.
My stomach twists—not in fear, but in that exhilarating way that always comes before watching the guys perform.
It’s amazing to see them in their element.
“You ready for tonight?” Jax’s voice pulls me from my thoughts. He’s standing just behind me, his green eyes softer than usual. He looks better these days—still a little rough around the edges, but there’s a light in his gaze that wasn’t there before.
“I think so,” I reply, fidgeting with the hem of my shirt. “Are you?”
He runs a hand through his messy hair and chuckles, his grin crooked. “As ready as I’ll ever be. But they’re gonna love you out there, Lily. You know that, right?”
“Stop it,” I mutter, pushing his arm playfully. “The people are here for you guys. I’m just the bonus feature.”
“You’re more than that,” he says, his voice steady, his smirk fading into something genuine. “Trust me.”
The lights backstage dim, signaling it’s time. The distant rumble of the fans grows louder, their anticipation rolling like thunder. Marcus strides onto the stage first, his guitar slicing through the noise with the opening riff. The crowd explodes, their screams shaking the walls.
Enzo follows, his bass slung low, his smirk a permanent fixture as he steps into the spotlight. Dylan is right behind him, twirling his drumsticks with a magician’s flair before settling behind his kit.
Jax bounces lightly on his heels, his nerves dissolving into the charged energy of the moment. He catches my eye, his grin wide and infectious. For a heartbeat, it’s just us, standing at the edge of something extraordinary.
“Alright,” he murmurs, his voice steady. “Time to give them a show.”
The band explodes into their first song; the music hitting me like a tidal wave. Jax’s voice cuts through the chaos, raw and magnetic, commanding the crowd effortlessly. The energy is electric, the chemistry between the guys palpable as they fall into a flawless rhythm.
They play through the first few songs seamlessly; the audience feeding off their energy, chanting and screaming along. Then it happens. We reach the part of the show that we’ve been talking about for weeks. Going back and forth until we finally were able to convince the label to let us try.
Jax turns toward me, his voice booming through the speakers. “Lily!” he calls, holding out a hand. “Get out here!”
Down below the stage, the audience goes wild.
They’re chanting my name before I’ve even stepped forward.
My heart pounds as I take a steadying breath, my feet carrying me into the spotlight.
The lights are debilitating at first, completely eliminating my vision, but then I see them—the thousands of fans, hands raised, voices screaming.
I take Jax’s hand, and together we dive into one of the new songs. One that we wrote together at The Ranch. The music pours out of me, every note, every lyric a piece of my soul laid bare. The crowd feels it too; I see it in the way they move, the way they scream the words back at the stage.
Marcus’s guitar slices through the air, Dylan’s drums thunder like a heartbeat, and Enzo’s bass line rumbles low and steady, tying it all together. It’s perfect chaos, and I’m part of it now.
When the song ends, a silence lingers over the venue until the very last notes fade away. Then the screaming starts back up with more enthusiasm than I ever expected. My chest heaves, my voice raw, but I can’t stop smiling.
“You guys are amazing!” I shout into the mic, waving at the sea of faces. “Thank you!”
Jax grins at me, his eyes sparkling under the stage lights. He leans into the mic, his voice teasing. “Told you they’d love you.”
I laugh, waving him off with a massive grin, and stepping back as the band takes over again. I retreat offstage, my heart racing, my chest full of something I can only describe as pride. I feel like I belong—here, with them, in the music.
The band finishes their set with explosive bang, leaving the crowd begging for more. Back in the dressing room, the air buzzes with post-show adrenaline.
“That was insane,” Dylan says, his grin wide as he collapses onto the couch.
Jax slings an arm around my shoulders, his touch light but meaningful. “You killed it out there, Lily. Told you.”
I laugh, shaking my head as I sink into the couch beside him. “It’s all you guys. I’m just lucky to be part of it. Thank you for letting me sing tonight.”
Marcus looks up from his guitar, his smile small but genuine. “We’re lucky to have you.”