Page 106 of Anything But Lonely

EMERSON

“Are they keeping their setlist the same for this last show?” Ava asks, leaning closer to me. We’re in Mateo’s special little VIP area, and the buzz of the crowd behind us threatens to drown out her voice, even when she’s standing right next to me. “Or are they changing it up?”

“I’m not sure,” I answer. “Mateo didn’t say anything to me about it, and I wasn’t at their soundcheck today since Crew was with Talia.”

“How was coffee with her the other day?” Rumi asks from my other side.

“Really good,” I answer, and it’s the truth. I didn’t know what to expect when I met Talia, and I was surprised how we instantly clicked.

Talia met me at Hey Honey’s yesterday, and it was a nice distraction from the disorientation after coming home. We chatted about tour and her photography agency, and she told me all about how Crew already has ideas for his Halloween costume—even though Halloween is five months away.

The silence of my apartment that greeted me when I got home the night before last was enough to send me down a pretty scary spiral. It was like being plucked out of the life I thought I knew and landing in an alternate universe. It took me a few hours to re-acclimate and remind myself that tour wasn’t real life… This was.

I’ve been able to keep myself busy these last two days, diving back into freelance work and working my first shift back at Hey Honey’s this morning before going to Rumi’s with Ava to get ready for tonight’s show.

But it feels like I’m floating through the hours, counting them down until I can stop pretending to have the energy to get through the day that I can’t seem to find.

My eyes wander the space around us, recognizing the owner of Lenny’s and his wife chatting with the Hey Honey’s owners. Talia is talking to Anderson as Jack stands next to him, who keeps looking at his watch, no doubt counting down the minutes until he can go home and see Evee.

Mateo’s sister, Mia, who I’ve only ever met in a professional capacity, started chatting with Ava and Rumi, and I can’t tell if I belong in the crowd, or if I’ve just become familiar with the loneliness that lingers even when I’m surrounded by people.

The lights around us begin to fade, and the crowd behind us cheers loud enough to have the entire venue shaking. The ground beneath my feet vibrates, the excitement and anticipation of this very last show completely overtaking the space.

I lift my hands over my head, clapping as I watch Eddie, Silas, and Theo walk on stage the same way they do every night. Watching it from the crowd feels weird after so many months being backstage, but I cup my hands around my mouth anyway, screaming as Eddie taps his drumsticks together three times and the music starts.

I can’t see Mateo backstage, but I know he’s opening and closing his fists, taking one last deep breath before he lets his shoulders drop just a few seconds before his cue.

Then, he’s walking on stage, heading directly for the microphone stand, grabbing the mic in one hand before he starts to sing.

I’ve heard this song a million times, during soundcheck, while dancing backstage with Crew, in my headphones just before I drift off to sleep, but somehow it still feels like the first time.

Mateo’s eyes are closed as he holds the microphone in both hands. His hair falls over his forehead, and I’m close enough to see the way the veins in his neck strain as he holds a note.

“How’s it feel being on this side of the stage?” Rumi asks over the music.

“Wrong,” I admit just as Theo’s riff cuts through the air, the crowd cheering as he points to a woman in the section in front of him, two little boys standing at her side.

We fall back into the music, the first song fading into the next, and I let myself drown in the music, watching Mateo as he puts every piece of his soul into each lyric he sings.

He truly does belong up there.

Crew cheers loudly in his stepdad’s arms, and Mateo waves at him as he walks along the stage, always making sure to sing to all corners of the venue, like he wants to make sure everyone here gets his attention.

He runs a hand through his sweat-slicked hair, breathing heavily as the second song ends, his eyes roaming the VIP section until they land on me.

His lips curve into a smirk, like he knows something I don’t.

I’m close enough to the stage to make out the details on his face—the ones I’ve come to know all too well. His long dark lashes, the specks of gold in his brown eyes, the way his tongue darts out to wet his lips before he introduces the band to the crowd, even though we all know who Theo, Silas, Eddie, and Mateo are.

“We are honored to end our farewell tour here where it all started,” Mateo says as they finish their second-to-last song, pausing for a moment as the crowd erupts in cheers at the mention of the end of the tour.

“We wish we had the right words to convey how truly thankful we are,” he continues, “for each and every one of you.” More cheers sound, and he has to keep pausing between phrases, a huge grin on his face as he holds a hand to his chest. “We wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you all.”

He looks around the venue until his eyes find mine again. He brings his microphone to his lips. “And even though this is our last show together,” he says, and it’s like he’s talking directly to me. “This isn’t the end.”

My breath catches, my heart lurching like it’s trying to jump out of my chest and to Mateo on stage.

This isn’t the end.