CHAPTER thirty-six
Cotton Candy Skies
Nashville, Tennessee
I look out to the crowd, brimming with anticipation, and I can’t help the smile that comes uninhibited.
This is the moment that we’ve been waiting for, working towards.
As soon as the fans started filtering in, the air felt nothing short of electric.
Merch is flying off the table, I hear the excited chirping about the new music and exclusive unplugged set.
The lights dim, beckoning a collective cheer from the crowd. Whoops, whistles, and yeahs ring out through the space.
Cody, Grady, and Jasper step out first, greeted by a roar so loud it rattles through my ribs. Cody adjusts his guitar strap, Grady lowers onto the suede stool with his bass in hand, Jasper twirls a drumstick once before settling behind his kit.
And then Elias walks out.
The sound that meets him is deafening. He pauses just shy of the mic, scanning the crowd with an expression I’ve only ever seen in unguarded moments—awe, disbelief, gratitude so sharp it borders on pain. For the briefest second, his eyes flick to me.
My heart stutters.
The music starts, Jasper setting a steady rhythm as Grady and Cody begin playing the melody of No Way Out. Elias closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and begins singing. The haunting words drift off his tongue so smoothly, filling the air with a fog of beautiful words laced with dark memories.
The crowd has fallen silent, wrapped in a trance, mesmerized by both the beauty and the pain.
I can see my family from across the venue, standing on the railing of the VIP section, my mom’s hand over her heart. Ashton’s eyes are fixed on the stage.
When the song ends, the crowd is silent for a few moments, all seeming to feel the same collective magic that was just released. Then they erupt with reverent fury, claps, shouts, and I can even see a few people crying.
The guys all smile in gratitude. Elias stands, dipping his head before saying, “Thank you.”
He pulls the mic from the stand and takes a few steps, the guys all watching him with pride. Elias doesn’t usually speak much during shows; he just gets lost in the music, in the performing.
“We are so grateful to have you all with us tonight. Thank you for taking the time out of your lives to be here.”
The crowd claps.
“This community is such a special place. As a person who always had trouble finding where I fit into the world… this is where I always felt accepted. Seen. Less alone… and I know I’m not the only one that feels that way.”
He pauses, placing a hand on his chest. “Thank you will never be enough.”
Elias nods as the crowd cheers and claps.
“Before we continue, I want to give thanks to our crew who made this happen…” There’s more cheering, but he waits it out, fingers flexing around the mic. He thanks Reign, then the band, then his gaze lands on me and stays there.
“And I want to thank our manager, my girlfriend, Ramona Hendrix. None of this would exist without her.” His words hit me square in the chest, stealing my breath.
“You made this happen, baby.”
The crowd cheers again, but I barely hear them. I press my fingers to my lips and gesture toward him. He mirrors it with a smile that’s just for me.
He steps back, ready to launch into the next song. Each one is so hauntingly beautiful, executed with such feeling, such meaning. This show is more stunning than I even imagined it could be.
Just when I think they are finished, Elias lifts the mic again.
“This last song is new,” he says, voice low. “No one’s heard it before.” The crowd erupts. I tilt my head, confused because they’d already debuted their new tracks tonight.
But then he looks at me.
“This one’s called Cotton Candy Skies.”
My lungs forget how to work.
The first notes bloom gently, unfamiliar, tender, but still with the visceral sound that makes Atlas Obsidian unique. It’s like a secret whispered in my ear. And as Elias begins to sing, he doesn’t look at the crowd; he looks at me. Only me.
My breath stalls. The foreign melody swirls around me like a welcome breeze on a summer day.
I was hollow when you found me
A shadow swallowed by a never-ending night
I’d forgotten what it felt like
To let anybody break inside
But you stood in all the silence
Never turning away
You saw beauty in my wreckage
Held me close when I had no words to say
You’re my flowers in the dark
Blooming right through my scars
You’re the first light of morning
You’re the night full of stars
You calm all my storms
When I look into your eyes
You turn my hurricanes
Into cotton candy skies
His voice trembles on the last four words. My hand flies to my mouth as tears break free, hot and unrelenting. Every lyric cuts straight through me. His pain, his gratitude, the love he’s never said aloud until now.
Every wall I tried to hide behind
You scaled it with care
Built a home inside my chaos
You are my answered prayer
If I could be anything for you
I’d be the shelter from the storm, I’d be the sun
But all I have is this broken voice
And a promise that everyday, I’ll be your only one
You’re my flowers in the dark
Blooming right through my scars
You’re the first light of morning
You’re the night full of stars
You calm all my storms
When I look into your eyes
You turn my hurricanes
Into cotton candy skies
You’re the calm after the fire
The hand I didn’t know to ask for
And when the smoke began to clear
You were still here
You were still here…
The last note dissolves into the rafters. For a moment, no one moves. No one breathes. And then the room erupts with applause, shouts, whistles, a roar that barely touches the quiet bubble forming around us.
Elias thanks the crowd, waves through the noise, but his eyes don’t leave mine. Not once. As he jumps down from the stage, people clap him on the shoulder, shake his hand, but he moves through them like they’re smoke.
And then he’s in front of me.
He cups my face and kisses me. It’s deep, it’s filled with everything he couldn’t say until now poured into this moment. I taste salt—my tears, his sweat, the rawness of what he just laid bare. The crowd cheers, but it all feels distant.
There’s only him. There’s only this moment. Only us.
He lifts me off the ground, and I cling to him, our bodies impossibly close. When we finally part, foreheads pressed together, he wipes the tears from my cheeks with trembling thumbs.
“You…” My voice cracks. “You wrote me a love song?”
His smile is wrecked and beautiful, caught between pride and vulnerability.
“Did I write a mean one?”
A matching choked laugh escapes both of us, tangled in the tears burning my eyes.
“It was perfect.”
The world around us erupts again—cheers, camera flashes, a chorus of awwws—but none of it touches me.
It’s just him. It’s always been him.
He holds my face, fingers trembling but sure.
“I love you, Ramona.” His voice doesn’t waver this time; it’s steady, certain, like an anchor in the chaos. “I’ve loved you for so long.”
The sob rips through me before I can stop it—unpolished and real. I cradle his face in my palms, our breaths mingling in the charged space between us.
“I love you too,” I whisper, every syllable soaked in truth. “Every part of you. Even the ones you think aren’t worth loving.”