I was hiding out from everyone before the show.

The back of The Imperial wasn’t fancy like the rest of the club. Away from its patrons, this space was dominated by a giant dumpster and two plastic patio chairs reserved for employees who were on break. One chair sat empty, while a pretty, blonde sat in the other. I recognized her as a bartender. She kept taking drags off her lit cigarette and giving me shy looks.

I refused to sit but leaned up against the brick wall of the building. I went through our set list in my mind. We’d start with a cover, and then sneak in an original. Then we’d play a few more well-known songs before going into a stretch of originals again. Matt had even convinced me to play my song again.

Tap, tap, tap.

I didn’t see the point in arguing considering everyone in River Valley had seen the video of me singing it last week. Hell, half of Boise had probably seen it by now. So since Chasing Sunsets wasn’t playing tonight, I had to assume the massive crowd inside was here to see us live.

It should have been exciting to know we were gaining traction, getting popular, but I couldn’t get Michelle’s face out of my mind. The last time I’d seen her was the day she walked out of the bookstore. We hadn’t worked any more shifts together after that, and soon after, the place had shut down permanently.

The girl out back with me kept trying to strike up a conversation much to my frustration. I'd found out her name was Mila, that she went to BSU, and her major was liberal arts. She had a lot of questions, but I kept all my answers short. There was no way she was so dense to realize I wasn't interested.

I looked down at my phone to see how much longer before we went on. I even debated watching the opening act.

Mila was opening her mouth to say something else when the back door flung open. It startled me as it hit against the outside wall. Matt was standing in the doorway, breathing heavily. “Michelle! Stage. Now.”

“What?”

He grabbed my arm and pulled, but I dug in my heels. “Dude,” Matt said, urgency lacing his every word. “Michelle just walked up on stage. You need to come right now.”

“Michelle?”

“That's what I said. Let's go.” Matt yanked my arm again, and this time I followed.

As soon as we got to the central area of the bar, I saw why he was so worked up. Michelle, my Michelle, was on stage. She had a gorgeous Taylor guitar slung across her chest and was standing in front of the microphone. A single spotlight shone down on her figure as she spoke into the mic.

“I know we’re all very excited to see Rainier and the Go-Aways.” The crowd cheered in response, and I wanted to shush them all. I didn’t want to miss a single word that came from her mouth. “I’m a pretty big fan myself. Especially of that hauntingly beautiful one they played last week." More cheers. "In fact, I was so touched by it, I decided I wanted to give it a go tonight.”

Some people continued to cheer for her, but it seemed like most people in the crowd were confused. I was confused. Michelle could barely play the three notes I taught her. How did she expect to play my song?

Michelle took a deep breath and hit the first note on the guitar. And the next. And then the next. It wasn’t perfect, and she played the chords rather than the individual notes. Even so, it was clear she’d learned our song.

A rush of jealousy hit me when I pictured another guy teaching her how to play. She wasn't supposed to be with another guy. We were meant to be together.

I knew that now.

The guy standing next to me pulled out his phone and started recording her. I wanted to slap the stupid thing from his hand but focused on Michelle instead.

Her voice was beautiful and made up for any inexperience on the guitar.

When she finished singing, the crowd began cheering. Those cheers became a collective gasp when she pulled the guitar over her head and, in a move more epic than any mic drop, lifted the guitar and dropped it. She raised her brows at the audience, the picture of cool indifference, before walking off the stage.

Everyone started moving then. Some people were standing on their toes trying to see where she went. Others were rushing the stage to check on her guitar. The people next to me did neither. They stood rooted to the same spot. I tried to push past the guy who had been recording Michelle’s performance, but he refused to budge.

I started to move as soon as I found a small break in the crowd, but a hand on my shoulder stopped me. I turned around hoping it would be Michelle, only to be disappointed when I turned to see Matt.

“What was that?” he yelled over the noise in the room.

“I have no idea, but I have to find her.”

“No way, man. I know it’s still early, but after that stunt, we need to go on now.”

“Matt.” I tugged away. “I can’t.”

“Rainier, playing on that stage is the whole reason we’re here. If you can’t commit to the band, you can’t commit to the girl. Don’t do this now. Please.”

Tap, tap, tap.

I looked around the club one last time to try to find Michelle before following Matt to the stage.