The first time I set foot on the stage of an arena, I was terrified.

But the same thing that scared the shit out of me then became the thing that made me invincible.

The audience. Every pair of eyes trained on you, every person invested in what you’re about to do for them, create with them, makes you stronger.

Being onstage in front of twenty thousand people is like being immortal.

I don’t care what you’re guilty of. All of it melts away for a few hours here, under the lights.

Each night I’m Icarus, flying into the sun.

Too high to see that every move I make brings me closer to my own destruction.

At least that’s how it’s always been.

Tonight, I feel her eyes on me from the booth.

Though I can’t see her, as the curtain rises and we break into our opening number, I pretend I can.

She’s judging me.

She deserves to.

We blaze through the set list. Each song gets all of me because holding something back would be a bigger crime.

At the end, I turn to Mace and mutter in his ear.

His eyes widen. “Seriously?”

He goes to Kyle, who locks eyes with me, but I’m already turning back to my mic stand.

You’re standing on the edge of a cliff, looking down into the abyss, and you’re twice afraid.

Once for the knowledge that you could fall.

And once for the knowledge that the choice of whether to stay or whether to jump is yours.

The arena’s silent as I wrap my hands around the mic, and for the first time in a long time, I’m exposed.

“There are moments that define us, for better and for worse. This song reminds me of the darkest time in my life. A time I wanted to leave behind. But the reason I’m playing it is a bright one.” I swallow. “A hopeful one.”

Cries start up, but I ignore them as I do something I haven’t done in ten years.

I play “Inside.”

And it’s not for my band, or the fans.

It’s for her.

I told Cross I would do the extra two months of shows because I’ve been dealing with the fallout from Grace and Annie for years. I may not be able to make up for that, but for the first time, I have hope that I can.

Especially if she’s here.

The crowd deafens me as we finish the number and leave the stage.

Mace calls after me, but I ignore him, winding through the backstage corridors to my dressing room.

There’s a girl in there, and for a split second, I imagine she’s Haley.

She can’t be. She’s taller with blond hair. Plus she’s dressed up.

“Jax.”

“Who are—”

“Serena. Haley’s friend.”

I notice the backstage pass swinging around her neck. “Right. Where’s Haley?”

“She left.”

My eyes fall closed. “Left for where?”

When she doesn’t answer, I glare at her.

“You can’t scare me with that look. I’m going to tell you because I think you guys should talk but not because you look like you’ll kill me if I don’t.” She takes a breath. “She’s going to Nashville. Tonight.”

I spin on my heel and stalk down the hall.