Page 58 of Knot My Band: Part Two
“Your smile, my dawn, you’re my new day. With you, I lose the grey,” Dax sings.
I can hardly breathe. The crowd fades away, and it’s just Dax and me, alone in a universe where music is the only language we need. He’s not just singing; he’s baring his soul on this stage, offering up his redemption in front of thousands. And damn if it isn’t the most romantic gesture I’ve ever experienced.
My heart swells, threatening to burst from my chest, love and appreciation for him—for all my alphas—mutating into something monumental, something fierce enough to roar over this festival’s noise.
“Through night, through day, we’ll find a way. With you, I’m here to stay.”
As the final chord strums its goodbye, a silence thick with emotion hovers for a heartbeat before the crowd erupts. Applause thunders, cheers soar, and there is a cacophony of adoration.
I stand there, awash in the glow of a thousand lights, anchored only by the intensity in Dax’s eyes.
I step forward, the stage beneath my boots solid and real—the only thing grounding me to this earth-shattering moment. I go to Dax’s mic, trying to look like I want to be close to him, but really, my microphone is off.
The guys have been handling all the talking for me, but I feel healed enough to say something.
“Hey, Miami!” My voice crackles through the speakers, sounding surprisingly calm despite the thunderous beat of my heart. “You guys mind if I say something real quick?” There’s a collective inhale from the crowd, and I swear you could hear a guitar pick drop.
“Tonight,” I start, the words tumbling out with an unscripted urgency, “tonight, I’ve felt love. Not just any love, but the kind that comes screaming down from the cosmos, crashing into you like a meteor shower.” I laugh, breathless, buoyed by their rapt attention. “And it wasn’t just because of the music or this insane energy y’all are giving us…”
I turn, sweeping my gaze over the sea of faces, each one lit up with expectation. It’s now or never. I let my eyes flit to where my alphas stand—a constellation of support—and that’s all it takes. “It’s because of them,” I say, pointing back at the band, my voice thick with emotion. “My alphas.”
A cheer cuts through the night, fierce and validating.
“They’re my melody, harmony, and rhythm section.” My laughter is shaky now, joy mingling with nerves as I bare mytruth. “They’ve got my back through every high note and every off-key moment. And I…” I swallow hard, the next words feeling as significant as a vow. “I freaking love them.”
The cheer that follows isn’t just loud; it’s monumental, a roar of approval that wraps around us like an embrace. “We love you, Oli!” someone shouts, and the sentiment is echoed, repeated, and amplified by thousands.
“Thank you,” I murmur, almost to myself. “For everything.”
Hearts aren’t meant to hold this much happiness, but somehow, mine’s managing. And as we bask in the glow of this shared moment, I know deep down that this—us, the music, the love—is just the beginning.
The alphas’ reactions are a symphony of emotion playing across their faces as they absorb the love pouring from the crowd. Jack’s eyes light up, mischief giving way to something softer, more tender. He winks at me, his grin saying he loves me back.
Dax’s hand finds mine, squeezing lightly, grounding me as the festival’s energy threatens to sweep me off my feet.
Aiden waves, and Chase sends love to strengthen our bond. I know I’m the luckiest omega in the world.
We dive back into our set, the music a living entity that wraps around us, enfolding us in its rhythm. The crowd’s energy is electric, and I ride the wave of their cheers, letting it fuel each move I make. My alphas are with me, note for note, beat for beat, a seamless union of sound and soul.
Mid-chorus, my gaze drifts offstage, where Daniel once stood—a shadow from my past now faded into the night. There’s no sting, no ache, just an indifferent void where his memory used to linger.
I only have room for my alpha’s love now.
Oli
OMEGA BUZZ GOSSIP COLUMN
HEAT RUMORS ARE SQUASHED BY OLI HART PERFORMING AT FESTIVAL- ANTI-OMEGA EXTREMISTS ONCE AGAIN LEFT LOOKING FOOLISH BY OLI HART
June 19th
The night air is electric with the buzzing energy of the music festival, but it’s nothing compared to the current zipping through my veins. I weave through the crowd, my alphas in tow, each of us fueled by a shared urgency that feels like it’s thrumming beneath our skin. Every step is quicker than the last; the anticipation of returning home for my heat makes my heart race double-time.
As we hustle toward the waiting car, I can feel their presence close, a protective circle of warmth and strength.
We pile in, a tangle of limbs and leather jackets, and I immediately find myself drawn to Dax.
I snuggle beside him, my body folding into his contours like two puzzle pieces clicking together. My head finds its favorite spot, nestled snugly on his shoulder, and I let out a contented sigh, breathing in his scent.
