Page 99 of Of Heartbreak and Harmony
When I got back to the tent last night, I lay awake for hours replaying the evening over and over in my head. I pretended to be asleep when the guys got back, but I didn’t actually fall asleep until much later. I’m regretting it now.
Just the thought of my night with Torren makes my pulse speed up and the soreness between my legs throb, and for the hundredth time since we got to the stage, I glance around the crowd for his familiar black baseball cap and mirrored aviator sunglasses. He’s not out there. Not yet. But that’s okay. He has to be more careful now that everyone knows he’s here. He said he’d come, so he’ll come.
“Dude, there’s like, a lot of people here,” Ezra says, and when I glance at him, he’s standing with his arms folded, staring out at the crowd. “Like more than I think we’ve ever played for.”
“Yeah, well, that’s what happens when you jump from playing divebars with a couple hundred capacity to music festivals with over a hundred thousand attendees,” I say, my voice breathy, betraying my lack of cool. “You get a much,muchlarger crowd.”
“What if they, like, hate us?”
I turn all my attention to Ezra. He’s looking a little queasy, so I put my hand on his back and rub gently.
“Ez. Aren’t you the one who’s always telling me how fucking amazing we are? And how it’s only a matter of time before we blow up and make it big?”
Ezra rolls his eyes and shrugs. “Yeah.”
I smack his arm. “Then stop saying dumb shit.”
Ezra barks out a laugh and gives me a light shove. “You’re right. You’re right.”
“I know.”
I catch Becket’s eye, and he squints at me before stalking my way. His movements are stiff and angry. I don’t want to go into this show with tension.
As soon as he’s within arm’s reach, he grabs my waist, pulls me toward him, and plants a kiss on my lips. I’m frozen in place, nervous to make a scene. Worried that I’ll fuck up the show. I don’t really kiss him back, but I don’t push him away. I let him kiss me until he steps back with a frustrated huff, and I heave a sigh of relief.
I force a smile. “You nervous?”
He shrugs. “I’ve been playing bass since I was fourteen, Callie. Been playing these songs for a year now. I could do this in my sleep.”
“Good. That’s good. Ezra is worried they’ll hate us.”
“Ezra is a moron.”
I force a laugh and try to ignore his clipped tone. How would I have handled this six months ago? Teased him and told him to stop being so moody, probably. Six days ago? I’d have wrapped my arms around him and kissed him back. But now? I’m just kind of...lost.
“Bro, stop being such a dick,” Ezra’s voice chimes in. “Torren King has the broody bassist market cornered, yeah? We don’t need another one.”
Becket snarls in Ezra’s direction, and I wince.
Awesome. This is exactly the opposite of how we should be going into the biggest show we’ve ever played. But what do I say? Play nice?Am I even allowed to say anything at all, given my activities the last few nights? My guilt battles with my excitement—I don’t want to hurt Becket, but I cannot get Torren out of my head. His hands, his eyes, his mouth. Everything.
Absently, my fingers brush over the hickey under my ear. I’ve covered it with makeup and braided my hair to the side, so it’s well hidden, but I can still feel it. I press my fingers against it slightly, just enough to feel the sting of pain, and I smile.
I’m so fucked.
I bite my tongue and go back to waiting quietly, pretending everything is fine.
When a festival worker tells us it’s time, we line up and climb the stairs to the stage. Ezra first, then Becket, Pike, and Rocky, then me. I’m not exactly the frontwoman—I kind of share the role of lead with Rocky—but the guys like having me come out last. Pike says I’m theinteresting one.
I step up behind my keyboard and wave to the crowd, surprised by the number of cheers and applause we get. I flash a smile to Rocky as he slips his guitar strap over his head and winks at me.
“Hey ArtFusion, how are you all doing this evening?” I say into my mic, then I laugh as a roar erupts from the crowd in response. I scan the fringes of the crowd briefly, but there’s no sign of Torren. I shove away the pang of disappointment and plow forward. “We’re Caveat Lover, and we’d like to play some songs for you, if that’s alright.”
I get more cheers and applause, so with a grin and a nod at my bandmates, I place my fingers on the keys and launch us into our first song.
“Thanks for hanging out with us, ArtFusion! We had a great time playing for you. It’s been an honor, and we hope to see you all in a bit for Heartless on the main stage!”
Rocky’s words mix with the shouts of approval from the crowd. The guys throw out their final waves, I blow a few goodbye kisses, and Ezra takes a bow, then we exit the stage in a haze of euphoria. I’m buzzing with excitement. The show was amazing. I’ve never felt this chargedafter a performance. This is beyond anything we’ve done before, and now that I know how it feels—playing on a level like this—I want more of it. I’m disappointed that Torren never showed, but even that can’t dampen my post-show high.
