Page 57 of Knot My Band: Part Two
June 19th
Istep into the spotlight, and Miami’s night sky stretches out above me—a dark canvas speckled with stars that can’t compete with the sea of neon below. The air buzzes with anticipation, thick with the aroma of excitement.
“Are you ready to rock, Miami?” Jack shouts, and they cheer in response.
My rose gold hair whips around my face, catching the glow of the stage lights as I strut closer to the edge.
I let my gaze sweep across the sea of faces. Each one lit up with that delicious expectation I’ve come to crave. They’re hungry for the music and the beat, and I’m here to serve them the night of their lives.
As I’m scanning, my eyes catch on Daniel. Standing off to the side, almost blending into the shadows, but not quite enough for me to miss him. The guys told me what he said earlier.
A familiar tug of emotional turmoil tries to claw its way up my throat, reminding me of old wounds and whispered promises in the dark. It’s a reflex, really. But then something shifts inside me, something bright and fierce. I have four alphas who loveme, and I love them. The pain Daniel has caused me isn’t worth remembering.
Taking a deep breath, the lingering scent of freedom mixed with sweat and sweet summer air, I let it out slowly. As I exhale, any last trace of Daniel’s hold on me evaporates into the night’s warmth. All I feel when I see him is indifference.
I can’t do it tonight when I’m lip-syncing, but going forward, the lyrics of those love songs will change just enough that it’s clear they’re no longer for him.
My fingers brush the mic stand, the cool metal grounding me as I lean in. I am ready to pour my soul into the night with everything but my voice. The crowd is a sea of eager faces.
We make it through most of our set, but the rhythm changes when I’m about to ‘sing’ the next song.
Jack, Dax, Aiden, and Chase don’t play the right song, but the four of them are in sync without me.
I’m momentarily stunned, caught between annoyance and curiosity. What are they doing?
“Change of plans, Miami!” Jack’s voice booms over the speakers, and I squint against the spotlight to see his arms spread wide as if embracing the crowd. “How do you feel about a change-up?”
The festival air crackles with anticipation; the audience roars their approval, thunderous applause vibrating through my boots’ soles. My heart races—what is he doing?
“Your energy is electric!” he continues, feeding off the crowd’s fervor. “And hey, if it’s cool with our omega extraordinaire, let’s shake things up!” His gaze finds mine, that impish charm in full swing. I’m clueless but game, tossing him a playful shrug.
I can feel Chase’s anticipation through our bond, and I know all my guys are in on this.
Just as the applause dies down, Dax steps into the light, and the night shifts. Where Jack is all spark and sizzle, Dax is midnight calm, a deep ocean of sincerity. The smile he usually reserves for quiet moments backstage now graces the sea of faces before us.
“Tonight,” Dax’s low thrum resonates deeper than usual. “We’ve got something special. A new song, fresh out of the heart—and it’s dedicated to someone who’s changed our lives.”
The cheers are immediate, but Dax raises a hand, asking for silence more effectively than any shushing could. The intensity in those hazel eyes is naked and unguarded, a side of him rarely seen by anyone but me.
“Oli,” he says, and it’s like he’s speaking directly to me, not the mass of people hanging onto his every word. “This one’s for you.”
I’m frozen, a statue with a rapidly beating heart. Dax, the man who once resisted my presence like it was an unwanted melody, is now here, under the blinding stage lights, laying bare a vulnerability that’s as beautiful as unexpected. The crowd senses the moment’s gravity and quiets down, ready to witness something truly intimate.
The first guitar strum makes me shudder, slicing through the thick air of anticipation. The alphas huddle around their instruments, a silent pact between them as they begin to play the new song. My heart’s drumming in sync with the beat, and confusion flutters in my belly like a caged bird. What is this?
When did they have time to practice this without me?
I stand there, the mic still gripped in my hand, as Dax’s voice breaks through the vibrant hum of the festival. It’s raw, laden with an emotion I’ve only seen glimpses of in quiet, unguarded moments between us. His hazel eyes lock onto mine, and it’s as if he’s reaching inside my chest, pulling at strings I didn’t know existed.
This is about us—about our stormy start, the resistance, and the tension that somehow entwined our fates. A sense of awe washes over me, drowning out the initial confusion. This is an apology, a confession, and a declaration, all woven into melody and verse.
Dax’s fingers move deftly on his bass, each note pulsating through the crowd, wrapping around us like a warm embrace. He’s always been the grumpy alpha with walls so high they could put skyscrapers to shame. But here he stands before everyone—his walls crumbling down, his voice spilling secrets and longing into the night air.
The vulnerability in his voice makes my own heart feel like it’s swelling, ready to burst from my chest. How did this grumpy, stubborn man with a soul wrapped in barbed wire write this for me?
Every syllable resonates in the space between us, an invisible thread drawing me closer to him, to the essence of who he is. The themes of regret, forgiveness, and love aren’t just lyrics—they’re our story. His admission wraps around us both, tangling us.
The fans use their phones to light up the crowd like a thousand stars.
