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I wanted to say more, to beg and plead, demand she come. Even if she wasn’t out there, someone would film it. It would be in the news, and the word would spread.
All those years of searching for her, believing she would come back, and I was left waiting for her again. I turned away from the stage, hearing Luc, Bevel, and Steve thanking the crowd as my platform descended. I waited for them at the bottom, the rush hitting me the moment my feet touched the floor.
Luc and Steve glared at me as they stepped off while Bevel pushed past me and grabbed his smokes from his assistant.
“Fuck me.” He groaned as he took his first drag.
Our adrenaline always surged as soon as the concert was over. You’d think we’d get used to it, but nothing can compare to having all those eyes on you, all those people screaming for you.
“You just had to do that, didn’t you?” Steve snarled.
Even though he was still angry at Cat, I thought he understood the most out of the three of them what it meant to fight for love. Liv and Steve had a passionate relationship, and they always put each other first. It was heart-warming to see, and it was what I wanted for me and Cat.
“It might be my last chance to see her,” I replied. “We’re leaving the UK in six weeks. I need to know if I still have a chance or if I’ve solidly fucked this up forever.”
“Yeah, but you didn’t have to announce it to the fans. They all know who you’re talking about. It’s not like it’s some big secret.”
The stagehands awkwardly moved around us, taking our guitars and Steve’s sticks, trying to act like nothing was happening. Our assistants were so used to it they handed us water and towels without batting an eye.
Steve took off, muttering angrily.
Our assistants were trying to herd us into the dressing rooms so we could change out of our sweaty clothes, but I wasn’t moving until Cat walked through the back curtain. I wanted to be the first thing she saw when she arrived. I’d told the security guards to let her through and made sure they knew who I was talking about. I didn’t care if my drying sweat was practically frozen. I’d stand here until the last person filed out of the stadium —and longer —to make sure I didn’t miss her.
Every night we’d had hundreds of fans pile up outside the back entrance hoping to get a glimpse of us. And Carl kept springing surprise meet-and-greets on us. Most of them had been awful, every fan wanting to ask about the drama between Cat and Bunny or flinging themselves at me and Luc. I’d specifically told Carl that tonight I was waiting for Cat. It didn’t matter how much money people were shelling out. My eyes were staying glued to that curtain.
I wanted to believe Cat would come running to me as soon as I’d left the stage, that she would burst in here and fling herself into my arms, kissing my face and digging her nails into my back as she told me how much she loved me. Instead, an hour passed, and soon they switched the lights off in the main arena. They’d wrapped me in a blanket when I started shivering.
I told myself it was just because the stadium was so full. She had to push past thousands of other fans to get to the back entrance, that was all.
I refused to be disappointed. Disappointment meant I’d given up. I couldn’t stop the worry gnawing away at me, my excitement dampening as the minutes stretched on. That familiar empty hole of despair widened again as the thought she wasn’t coming beat away at me.
She’d said no. She’d abandoned me, abandoned us. She’d given up. All of it, everything we went through together, all the struggle and the pain and the love, and she’d decided it wasn’t worth it. Or that I wasn’t worth it. What was it she had said? That I’d wasted her time.
I paced around under the god-awful fluorescent lights that were eating into my brain, my headache pounding. I was feeling sick, not just because of the pain but because I was alone. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe that woman wasn’t Cat, and Cat had decided she was done. She’d left me again, and I would sink back into the darkness and spend months drinking and writing kickass songs while my heart hopelessly tried to keep me alive.
I’d spent hours confessing my love to her on stage. Why wasn’t it enough? Why couldn’t she see how good this thing we had was? Why didn’t she want it?
My ears were still ringing, but I’d become so attuned to the security guards that I noticed the instant there was a change in their tone. I nearly gasped as they pulled back the curtain with a “This way, ma’am.”
Shit. It was really her. She’d come for me.
I clenched my hands around the blanket, forcing myself not to fall to the floor and cry out in relief as Cat stepped through the curtain. What little dignity I had left held me rooted to my spot ten feet away from her, letting her stare me down. I must have looked like a wreck. My makeup ran during the concert, my hair gel had given up hours ago, and the leather cape had forced my sweat to dry on my body. Whereas she flowed towards me like a marble sculpture made flesh, her face set in anger, all curves and grace. I’d been right about the brown jacket, but I’d missed the black jeans and brown heels.
“Max,” she growled at me.
I wanted to hold her so badly, take her and kiss her, and never let her go. She was here. She was actually here. Through it all, all the mess and confusion and all the shit we had been through, she was saying yes.
“Is this what you’ve been doing since I left? Singing songs about how badly you want to fuck me and how sorry you are?” A hint of a smile played on her lips.
I could have laughed. I was so captivated by her under these crappy lights and damp curtains that everything she said and did was lighting me on fire. My body was frozen, but heat coursed through me, my stupid heart pounding in hope.
“Do you really think that’s good enough?” She stared me down, tilting her chin back haughtily.
“You’re here, aren’t you?” I grinned.
She folded her arms, scoffing at me even though I had a point. Why else had she come if it wasn’t to tell me she loved me?
“Well, what am I supposed to say to that?” I could hear the amusement in her voice.
