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Maybe the only option is to stop this before it goes any further.
***
“Micah.”
My eyes flew open.
Sax was kneeling in front of me, a smirk on his face. “You fell asleep? In a storage closet?”
“I was tired,” I said, my voice defensive. “What time is it?” I asked.
“You’re on in ten. The guys had no idea where you were and you weren’t answering your phone.”
Shit. I struggled to my feet and stretched my arms, yawning.
He ran his fingers over my face. “You have sleep lines from your jacket,” he chuckled.
My hands shot to my face and I groaned. I felt so unprepared for this show.
“Hey, it’s okay. Go to the bathroom. I’ll let the guys know you’re on your way.” He wrapped his arms around me, tilting my face up to meet his. I sighed as his lips crushed against mine.
God, he makes me feel special.
I sprinted to the left entrance of the stage where the guys were waiting. Harry handed me my mic. I smiled as I took it, just as we were announced. The crowd erupted into a round of cheers as we ran out onto the stage.
“You like making things interesting, don’t you?” Harry joked in my ear. I narrowed my eyes at him and he laughed.
The second I began to sing, everything was better. It was like the last few hours of worrying hadn’t even happened. Up there, I was invincible. Nothing could touch me. Everything was under control, safe. That’s what music was for me: it was an escape, where no matter how bad things got in my life, music would take away the pain.
Five songs and two encores later, we were done. My head was buzzing. Singing gave me the biggest high—better than any drug possibly could. I ran just off stage, soaking up the thunderous applause. I couldn’t put into words how magical that feeling was.
All my anxiety from before had dissipated. Or maybe it was still there, hiding behind the thrill of performing. Either way, I forced myself to enjoy the moment. I could worry about everything tomorrow.
We made our way over to the bar, the crowds of people still cheering for us. It was a surreal feeling.
Harry threw his arm around my shoulder, earning him a glare from Sax. If he noticed, he didn’t show it. “I could fucking kiss you, M. You rocked it. You were so freaking amazing up there. It’s like you force everyone to listen. It’s like you cast a fucking spell, doesn’t she, Sax?”
“She does,” Sax murmured, a smile twitching on his lips.
“We’re a million times better with you in the band,” Harry continued. “I feel like we have a real shot at something now that we have you. You complete us.”
“Who the fuck are you, Jerry McGuire?” Sax snorted, rolling his eyes.
“No, I’m serious, dude. She makes us.”
I giggled. “Are you drunk, Harry? Because you sound drunk.”
“No, I’ve had like one beer. I’m just excited. You fucking excite me,” he said. I squealed as he lifted me into a big bear hug.
This was so unlike Harry, but I couldn’t help but laugh.
Unlike Sax. He wasn’t laughing.
Far from it. He sat down at the bar, glaring at Harry.
Harry put me down and walked up to the bar, drumming his hands on the counter. “Give us a round of shots,” he ordered the guy behind the bar.
“Nah, none for me,” muttered Sax.
