Page 2 of Fame & Rhythm

We all nod.

“Okay, parents, and the rest of you un-cool people, we’re Staked, and we’re about to rock your socks off. This is our new track, “Don’t Mess With The Best.” ”

Chad counts us in, and the moment I hit the first chord, everything else disappears.

We’ve been playing together for years, and it shows. The sound flows easily between us, the vibration of my guitar running straight through my body. Music does that… it pulls me under and quiets everything else.

I lean back into Aston, our usual rhythm, back to back. We always play better like this. Feeling him there, steady and solid, grounds me.

Laughter and cheers echo around us, but I barely hear it.

I pull back and catch his eye. He grins, and it hits me like it always does—bright, easy, impossible not to return.

Aston gets me.

He always has.

We’re only a few months apart in age, but it feels like we’ve grown up on the same wavelength. Ella’s a year younger, same as Chad, and Caleb—well, Caleb’s older, but he never makes it weird. He just fits.

The song builds, and I lose myself in it completely. The notes, the rhythm, the energy, it all wraps around me until nothing else exists.

Just the music.

Just us.

We finish, and I high-five Aston. That same spark snaps between our palms, quick and sharp, like always.

He smiles again.

I glance at Caleb, and he nods.

Good. Because I’m not done yet.

We launch straight into the next song. Ella leans into Caleb as he sings to her, while Aston and I fall into our usual rhythm, playing off each other like we always do.

He’s my anchor when I’m up here.

My constant.

We wrap the set, and I’m breathless, sweaty, completely wired. When I get like this, nothing else matters. The world narrows down to sound, movement, connection…

… and Aston.

Applause pulls me back, and I glance around the room.

Anna and Johnny.

Macy and Uncle Hux.

Sia and Dingo.

But two people are missing.

The two I was hoping to see most.

I scan the room, searching for Mum and Dad while everyone else is being congratulated by their parents.

Ella slips an arm around my shoulders. “It’s okay. They probably heard us from upstairs,” she says quietly.