Page 61 of Saving the Rockstar

I thought back to the late-night conversations we had shared, the moments when Jared had opened up about the struggles of his childhood, the pain of growing up in a household plagued by constant fighting and resentment. He had told me about his father's infidelity, about the way the man had walked out on their family and never looked back, leaving Jared and his sister to pick up the pieces of their shattered lives.

But through it all, Jared's mother had been his rock, his unwavering source of love and support. She had worked tirelessly to provide for her children, to give them the stability and security that their father had so callously ripped away. And though their relationship had been strained at times, tested by the trials and tribulations of life, Jared had never lost sight of the deep, abiding love he held for the woman who had raised him, who had shaped him into the man he was today.

I thought of the pride in his voice when he had spoken of his sister's wedding, the way his eyes had shone with joy as hedescribed walking her down the aisle in their father's absence. I remembered the way he had teared up when showing me pictures of his newborn niece, the way his fingers had traced the tiny, perfect features of her face with a reverence that bordered on awe.

And now, faced with the prospect of losing the woman who had been the center of his world for so long, I could see the fear and the helplessness that threatened to consume him.

Without a second thought, I pulled him into my arms, my hands running soothing circles over his back as he buried his face in the crook of my neck, his tears soaking into the fabric of my shirt.

"You need to be with your family. They need you right now, more than ever."

He pulled back slightly, his eyes searching mine with desperation.

"But what about the tour?" he asked, his voice small and uncertain. "What about you? I can't just leave you, not now, not like this."

I shook my head, my hands coming up to cup his face, my thumbs brushing away the tears that still clung to his lashes.

"Jared, listen to me," I said, my voice firm but gentle. "There is nothing in this world more important than family. And right now, your family needs you more than I do. I love you so much, and I will be here waiting for you when you get back."

With a shaky nod, he leaned in and pressed his lips to mine, the kiss soft and sweet.

"I love you too," he whispered, his forehead resting against mine. "And I promise, I will come back to you."

I smiled through my tears, my fingers tracing the lines of his face, committing every detail to memory.

"I know you will," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "Because you and me? We're forever. No matter what life throws our way, no matter how far apart we may be, our love is stronger than any distance, any obstacle."

When we returned to the airport, he pulled me into a tight embrace that spoke of all the love and the longing in his heart. We stayed like that for a long moment, our bodies molded together as if we were trying to memorize every curve and angle, every beat of each other's hearts.

Finally, reluctantly, Jared pulled away, his hand finding mine and giving it a final, gentle squeeze. And then, with one last kiss and a whispered goodbye, he was gone, his tall frame disappearing into the chaos of the airport terminal, his bag slung over his shoulder.

The first few days without Jared were a blur of soundchecks, interviews, and endless hours on the road. I threw myself into the music, into the rush of adrenaline that came with every screaming crowd and every pounding bassline, trying to lose myself in the chaos and the noise, to drown out the ache of missing him that seemed to throb like a physical pain in my chest.

But I couldn't shake the feeling of emptiness, the sense that something vital was missing, a piece of myself that had been ripped away and left behind on the other side of the world.

It was a relief, then, to have Mason by my side, his steady presence and quick wit a welcome distraction from my own thoughts. He had stepped into Jared's role without hesitation, his keen eyes and sharp instincts a constant source of comfort and security.

But it was his interactions with Dylan that truly brought a smile to my face, their playful conversations and subtle flirtation a much-needed source of levity in the midst of all the stress.

It started from the moment Dylan learned of Mason's new role as my temporary bodyguard, his eyes widening with a mixture of surprise and delight as he bounced on the balls of his feet, his energy practically vibrating off him in waves.

"Well, well, well," he said, his voice dripping with mischief. "If it isn't the man of the hour himself. The big, bad bodyguard, here to keep us all safe and sound."

Mason rolled his eyes, his arms crossing over his chest in a gesture of mock annoyance.

"It's a job, Dylan," he said, his voice flat and unimpressed. "Not a coronation. And I'm hardly big or bad. I'm just here to make sure you idiots don't get yourselves killed or kidnapped by some crazed fan."

Dylan grinned, his eyes sparkling with a challenge.

"Oh, I don't know about that," he said, his voice dropping to a purr. "I think you're plenty big where it counts. And as for bad, let's just say I have a feeling you could be very bad if you wanted to be."

Mason's eyebrows shot up, his mouth falling open in a moment of stunned silence. But then, just as quickly, he recovered, his lips twitching with the barest hint of a smirk.

"Careful, now," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "You keep talking like that, and I might just have to show you exactly how bad I can be."

Dylan's grin widened, his tongue darting out to wet his lips in a gesture that was pure, unabashed flirtation.

"Don’t threaten me with a good time," he said, his voice breathy and eager.

---