Page 52 of Unfinished Noise

Jamie couldn’t help smirking.

Spencer breathed a sigh of relief.

Farlan shot Jamie a quick, apologetic glance. “Sorry he bothered you guys.” He handed the shirt to Spencer.

Jamie shrugged. “He does that.”

Billy glared at him, but Jamie didn’t flinch. He held Billy’s stare, disgust plain on his face.

Farlan grabbed Billy’s wrist. “Come on. You’re done here.”

Billy tried to protest, but Farlan was already pulling him down the hallway, muttering, “You’re impossible,” under his breath.

Spencer closed the door, leaning his forehead against it for a second.

Jamie stepped closer. “You okay?”

Spencer turned, eyes softening. “Better now.”

Jamie slid his arms around Spencer’s waist, grounding him. “He’s ridiculous.”

Spencer kissed Jamie’s temple. “Yeah. But you’re not.”

Jamie felt the tension drain from his shoulders. “Good. Because I’m not going anywhere.”

Spencer smiled, warm and real. “I know.”

Chapter Twenty

Jamie

Spencer found a private corner backstage before the show, tugging Jamie close by the front of his matching shirt. It wasn’t a dramatic moment—just a soft pause in the noise, Spencer’s forehead resting against Jamie’s for a breath. No words, only the steady warmth of Spencer’s hands on his waist and the thud of music vibrating through the walls.

Jamie let himself sink into it, the calm before the chaos, the kind of closeness that made everything outside the two of them fade. Spencer kissed him once—quick, grounding—and then squeezed his hip.

“Go sit with Alfie,” Spencer murmured. “I’ll see you out there.”

Jamie nodded, chest warm, and slipped out to the main room.

He and Alfie found a small table near the front, close enough to see everything but far enough not to get swallowed by the crowd. The server came by, and they ordered ridiculous fruity drinks—bright colors, sugar dusted on the rim, the over-the-top presentation that made Alfie snort and Jamie grin. It fit the moment: loud lights, loud music, and the two of them tucked into their own little bubble before the show kicked off.

The lights dimmed. Jamie’s breath caught. And then Spencer strutted onto the stage.

The crowd exploded—cheers, screams, hands in the air—and the impact hit Jamie like a sudden jolt under his ribs. His breath caught, his throat tightening as if the air had thickened around him. Seeing Spencer like that—confident, electric, wearing the outfit that matched his own—sent a rush of warmth up his neck. He blinked fast, trying to steady himself, trying not to let the emotion spill over in front of everyone.

Spencer grabbed the mic, smirking at the crowd. “Thanks for coming out tonight,” he said, voice smooth and loud over the speakers. “Means the world to us.”

Then his eyes flicked to the front tables.

“And a special thank you to my lover sitting right up front.”

Jamie froze.

Alfie’s head whipped toward him.

Jamie stared back at him, eyes wide, heart thudding so hard it felt like it shook the table. His cheeks burned, his chest tightened, and he couldn’t stop the tiny, stunned laugh from slipping out.

Alfie leaned in, eyes wide, breathing as if he’d witnessed a car crash and a wedding proposal concurrently. “Jamie… he said that onstage. In front of everyone.”