Daryl, along with four other hired guns stood next to the elevated table in the extra-large tent at Zilker Park where my press event was being held. The other bands had already completed their sets, leaving only my performance. The main event.

With less than a half hour before my show was scheduled to begin, my stomach churned. A quick glance in my direction and Taryn assessed my nerves. My inner turmoil. And thats why she was running the show and not Elise. Taryn knew me, all my tells.

She gave me a soft smile, then tipped forward to speak into her microphone. “We’ve got to get a move on, y’all. Last question.”

Shifting my focus to a friendly face in the front row, I gave Ash Devonshire from the Austin Statesman the nod. He winked at me, a smile hitching one corner of his lips as he pushed to his feet.

And for the hundredth time today, tears stung the back of my eyes. But nobody could see them behind my oversized sunglasses.

Yeah, I was in full rock star mode. Clad in painted-on jeans, a barely there blouse, and sky-high boots, I looked nothing like myself. Which was only fitting. Because today, I was Belle Grayson. And I had a job to do. Something I should’ve done long ago. Not just for me, or Miles, but for the fans. Seventy-five thousand strong right outside the tent. Plus a million seven streaming live on Pay-Per-View. And the untold number who’d watch from the comfort of their homes when HBO aired the taped special next month.

All-in-all, this concert was slated to be the highest grossing event of the year, or the last ten years if the projections were on point.

“It’s good to see you, Belle,” said Ash.

I gave him a genuine smile, my first of the day. “Hey, Ash. Good to see you too.”

Shifting his feet, he glanced down at the prearranged question. “Will this show signal your permanent return to the stage?”

His smile wilted just a bit in preparation for my answer, which he already knew. Ash had been covering Damaged since the beginning. So it was only right he’d be here at the end.

Clearing my throat, I took Miles's hand under the table. “Today marks my official retirement.” Ignoring the shouts from the reporters who jumped to their feet to ask a follow up question, I tipped forward and smiled. “Sorry y’all. It’s been an awesome ride. But it ends here.”

Where it began.

Taryn fussed with the ties on my blouse.

“Make sure to reinforce those,” I said, peering out of the curtain at the sea of people. “There’s barely any fabric there as it is. One slip and the whole planet is going to see my goodies.”

Deep in conversation with his boys some five feet away, I saw Logan snap to attention. Pale blue eyes, iridescent in the ambient light, shifted my way. Looking me over from tip to toe with a feral gaze, his tongue slid over his bottom lip. Still, he made no move to approach. Partly because of the camera crew shadowing my every move. But mostly because today, I wasn’t his. Not completely. Today I belonged to all the girls in the crowd with purple and blue streaks in their hair. And to all the members of the bands who’d performed in tribute to who I once was. Today … I belonged to Rhenn, Paige, and Miles.

But tonight, and every moment after, I’d be his.

I smiled, and he smiled back.

“You’ve got six feeds going live to the satellite locations,” Taryn said in a shaky voice. “The screens to the right and left of the stage will pan in from time to time to give you crowd reaction.”

I swept a lock of chestnut hair out of her face. “And where will you be?”

Chase was going to take in the show with Logan and the guys. But I wasn’t sure about Taryn.

She pointed to a large group on the opposite side of the stage. Dylan was there, along with Beckett, and all the other members of the Big Three.

“It’s only right,” she said. “Full circle and all that.”

A shadow appeared at the back of the stage. Miles. Though I barely noticed his limp, he was self-conscious about it, so he’d arranged to take his place behind the kit before the announcement was made.

Taryn sucked in a breath. “That’s my cue. I’m heading to the other side.”

As she took a step, I grabbed her arm, pulling her into my embrace. “I love you, T-Rex. Thank you for everything.”

And I meant all of it. From kindergarten to now. And whatever would come in the future.

She hung on for a long moment before breaking our connection. “I love you back.”

And then she was gone. And I was alone. Seventy-five thousand people, and I was by myself, staring out at three X’s on the stage.

A single spotlight pierced the darkness, and then Dylan was there, in front of the microphone. It took a good few minutes of cajoling for the audience to settle enough for him to speak.

“I’m Dylan,” he shouted when he got the chance. “And I’d like y’all to help me welcome the original Sixth Street band, Damaged!”

The stage shook as the audience roared, and instinctively, I took a step back.

But then Rhenn’s voice drifted through the massive speakers, and the world went quiet. So still. Everyone hanging onto the edge of their seats.

“You know, we’re just a little old band from Austin. We never expected all of this.” A beam of light shot from the rafters, and his hologram appeared. So handsome, with his long dark hair and his favorite guitar hanging low on his hip.

And then Paige’s voice, gentle as a breeze. “We love coming out to play for y’all. Isn’t that right, Belle?” Another flicker from the heavens and she was there too. Bright smile and long, red hair flowing in the non-existent breeze.

The sound and lighting crew had spliced together pieces from old interviews and shows to make this an interactive experience. And it was, because the sight of them mere feet away brought a torrent of tears I could hardly contain. But I did. And one last time, I stepped into the light of the Sixth Street Legacy.

To say goodbye.

An hour and a half into the performance, Tori stepped up to the organ. It was the first time she’d ventured very far from her mark. Since I knew what was coming, I inched closer to the stage. Just far enough for her to see me if she looked.

I’m here, baby.

And for the first time since she’d emerged into the spotlight, her gaze swung my way.

I nodded, lending whatever silent encouragement I could.

Tori nodded back and then took a deep breath, resting her fingers on the keys. I’d played in front of some monster crowds in my life. Watched from the wings as some of the biggest bands in the world performed in front of audiences of nearly a hundred thousand. But I’d never heard anything like the collective roar that rose up when Tori played the opening bars for “Free Bird,” the old Lynyrd Skynyrd standard that was eerily appropriate for this show.

A second later, the stage went dark, but for the two holograms. And then the rest of the instruments fell away, and the song morphed in an acoustic version with only Rhenn and Paige on guitar.

Overcome by the weight of the moment, the audience grew so quiet, you’d never know there were seventy-five thousand people in attendance. Except for the sea of lights that went on and on for as far as the eye could see.

What they failed to notice was my girl, gliding toward the curtain with her head down. She walked straight into my arms, and nobody knew. It was as if she’d left Belle on the stage, and only Victoria remained. And that was fine with me.

Tucking her to my side, I headed for the private lot where my Mustang waited, our bags in the trunk. She didn’t even flinch when the crowd erupted behind us.

“Where are you taking me?” she asked, as if the thought had just occurred to her.

I kissed her temple. “I don’t know. Where do you want to go?”

I knew, and my GPS was already programed. But still, I waited for the words.

She peered up at me. “How does Nashville sound?”

And I smiled. “Like heaven.”