Nash leans against the wall, bass cradled in his arms, the casualness of his posture somehow promises a lightness to our practice today. “You know, I thought you’d be here sooner. You were lucky I didn’t start without you. Almost decided to take up the microphone.” He grins, and the sparkle in his eyes sends a rush of warmth through my veins.
“One note out of your mouth and everyone in the room would’ve scrambled to pull the plug,” Blake teases.
I roll my eyes but can’t suppress the smile tugging at my lips. For a moment, it feels like the heaviness of everything lifts.
“Darius!” Nash calls out, shifting his attention as Darius enters the room, guitar slung low. His presence bursts in like a windstorm, lively and magnetic, and I’m instantly drawn to him. “Raina’s here—don’t keep her waiting!”
“Now, why would I do that?” Darius shoots back, his voice smooth like honey, playful. He doesn’t just plug in his guitar; he turns it into an extension of himself, every chord he strums rich with passion. “Got your wishes and your dreams, Raina? Let’s make them true today.”
Before I can respond, Blake crosses the room wearing his usual shy expression but glancing up through his glasses, with a spark of determination. “Everyone ready to make an epic track?” he asks, and something tight in my chest loosens.
The air hums with hope as I glance between my bandmates, their confidence brewing something deep within me. But before I’m able to absorb it, I catch sight of Tristan leaning against the doorframe. There’s a moment—just a heartbeat—where everything stops. The world around me blurs out of focus, and all I can see is him.
As if sensing the shift in my attention, he beckons me over with a tilt of his head, his demeanor becoming more serious. “Hey,” he rasps, voice low. “Before we get started, I wanted to ask you something. What role do you see me playing in theband? I mean, if you want me to stay? I want to know what you want, Lexi. I’m prepared to support you in any way you want me.”
My lips part with surprise. I never imagined a scenario where he wouldn’t be here. “Of course I want you.” I swallow, not having said anything out loud in a while. It feels weird that I’ll have to get used to talking again.
Some of the worry melts from his face, and before I can think better of it, I reach out a reassuring hand for his. He was always supposed to be by my side on this journey, so how could I start over without him? I need him now more than ever.
“I can’t practice for another few weeks,” he murmurs, then glances across the room. “Plus, you have Darius playing now. I don’t want to take anyone’s spot. It’s my fault I had to be replaced in the first place.”
He pinpoints my dilemma right away without me needing to say anything. I need them both, and I’m not sure what the answer is here. Right as I open my mouth to respond, Darius jumps in with that same casual confidence. “Once Tristan gets his ribs healed, I’d love to take a crack at the keys.”
His lighthearted nature blends perfectly with the potential surrounding us, and somehow, the solution ignites a flicker of determination deep inside me. It gives me a moment to imagine our future, to envision the art we could create together.
“You would step—“ My throat catches, and I cut off, hating the limitations of my voice. I have to remind myself that I’ve made progress, but the healing won’t all happen in one day.
“Would I step back?” Dare finishes for me. “Yeah, I would. It’s what’s best for the band. I don’t need lead guitar.”
“You sure?” Tris asks him. “You deserve to keep it.”
“We’re a team, and it’s clear you were meant to play standing next to her on stage. Singing with her. It doesn’t take a StormChaser to see that.” Dare smiles, and it makes my heart pound in my chest, and of course he has to add a wink to it.
“Don’t lie! We all saw your shirt, D. We know you’re a secret Storm Chaser,” Nash calls out.
“Never said I wasn’t,” Dare throws back, a sparkle in his eyes. It’s one of the first times things have felt completely comfortable between the guys. Throwing jokes around and acceptance of where everyone stands in the group.
“Thanks, man,” Tristan says quietly, nudging the back of his hand to Dare’s arm, making sure he hears him. Dare takes his hand, and they bump chests in one of those bro greetings.
My British bandmate steps in front of me, his thumb and forefinger lifting my chin until we’re staring at each other. “Don’t forget me on the stage, yeah?”
I slowly shake my head, my eyes transfixed on him. Somehow this feels intimate, yet we’re in front of the other guys. Dare has never been shy about wanting me, that’s for sure.
His thumb swipes along my bottom lip, his gaze darting there before meeting mine again. “Good.” I almost sway where I stand when he steps away. I could’ve sworn he was about to kiss me.
And I find I’m left disappointed.
Taking a moment to compose myself, I finally clap my hands together and circle a finger in the air in alet’s get things startedmotion.
The guys jump into motion of finishing getting ready, the sounds surrounding me as I close my eyes and envision what I want for this writing session. Taking a deep breath, I can’t help but think it feels like we are exactly where we need to be—ready to practice, ready to push forward, all of us together.
As the setup continues, each member takes their place in a well-rehearsed dance of coordination. The weight of my uncertainty lingers but is softened by the laughter and musicdrifting through the room, infusing me with energy I didn’t think possible.
I look at Keaton, Nash, Darius, Blake, and finally at Tristan, my breath steadying with every beat of the drum, every chord played. Today we’ll create, we’ll be whole for the first time since my attack.
“Let’s work on something raw today. No pop polish,” Nash reads out loud from where I wrote it on the whiteboard. He pumps his arm in the air. “Woot! Let’s get ready to rock, baby!”
I erase the words and tap my lips with the capped marker, staring at the empty space. My breath is steady, but my heart pounds like a drum in the thick silence. The blank surface taunts me, promising a world of possibilities if I can only channel the messy chaos swirling in my mind.
