"Wow," Gael said. "This is…"

"Yeah," Nathan responded numbly. "It sure is."

"Is this right?" Seth asked nervously. "I mean, the label didn't make a mistake, did they?"

I double checked the details on my phone. "This is the right one." I glanced up and scanned the concert venue we'd just pulled up in front of. The building was massive and towered over us. Dozens, maybe even hundreds, of people were already lined up around the venue and down the street. "This is where we're playing."

"Holy shit," Julian murmured.

" Don't freak out," Liam said encouragingly. "So what if it's bigger than you thought?"

"We've never played for an audience this size as headliners before," I said. "Ever."

"And by the end of the night, you can say you have," he said.

"I'm driving around back," Seth said. "We're not walking through the front entrance, that's for sure."

I made a call to our contact person at the venue as we approached the back entrance. A young skinny guy came out of a nondescript door followed by a couple beefy looking guys. Skinny kid unlocked a gate to the parking lot, and waved us through. Once we were parked, the buff guys came around to the back of the van and started unloading our equipment, lugging it into the building for us. With the back hatch open, we could hear chatter and cheering, the chanting of fans singing our songs at the top of their lungs as they waited.

"This is insane," Nathan said, shaking his head.

The guys started climbing out of the van. Liam unbuckled his seatbelt and hopped out. He held his hand out as I followed, helping me down.

I didn't have time to savor his warm hand encasing mine. My head was already whirling with excitement and dread and nerves. I'd known signing with a label was a big deal, but this was a significant level up from the bars and clubs we used to play at.

"We're doing final set up now," Skinny Guy said as he lead us into the building and through the maze of hallways. "We should be able to do sound checks soon. You can wait in the artist lounge." He nodded and pointed to a door, then left us.

We walked in. The six of us stood in the middle of the room, staring at each other. I took in the wide eyes and pale faces. Even my brother, usually so self-assured to the point of egomania, looked unsure of himself.

I pushed down my own worries and threw back my shoulders, standing tall.

"Okay, guys. This is it," I said. "All our hard work, all those sleepless nights and sore muscles and blistered fingers? This is where it got us. We're playing a massive concert hall with hundreds, thousands, of people dying to see us. No more playing for free drinks. No more dragging around our own equipment. We've made it. We're goddamn rock stars. And we're going to have the time of our lives out there."

Slowly, the uncertainty and fear faded from their expressions, replaced with excitement, triumph. I let a grin spread across my face, heart pounding in my chest.

"We made it," I repeated slowly, quietly, to myself.

"I could get used to having roadies carry my shit," Gael said.

"Where are the groupies waiting to give us blowjobs before the concert?" Nathan joked.

"Oh awesome, snacks!" Seth bounced to the nearest table and snatched up a couple bags of chips and chocolate bars. The others followed him, chowing down. The last thing those boys needed were sugar rushes, but I wasn't going to deny them the pleasure.

Liam was still standing near the door, his hands in his pockets. He looked at ease, expression calm, but there was a stiffness in the way he held himself.

"You're not going to eat?" I asked him.

"Not junk like that." He flicked his gaze from the guys to me. "That was a good pep talk. They really listen to you."

"Only sometimes," I said. Liam's shoulders were tense, hunched near his ears. "You okay?"

"Yeah," he said shortly.

I studied him. Thinking back to what I knew of Liam's old band, I had to wonder…

"You've never played a venue this big, either, have you?" I guessed. He pressed his lips together firmly, confirming my suspicions. "It's okay to be nervous," I continued.

"It's not nerves," he said. "There's just a lot of pressure, you know? I'm the new guy. Everyone's going to be judging me. Plus, it's been so long since I've been on stage. And even though we've practiced until our fingers bled, these songs are still new to me." Liam let out a heavy breath through his nose. "I guess it is nerves," he said reluctantly.

"You're going to be fantastic out there," I said. "You're going to fucking rock."

He gave me a weak smile. "Thanks, Cerise."

I placed a reassuring hand on his upper arm. His darkly inked skin was a tempting contrast against my own bare fingers, the hard muscles too firm to ignore. My fingertips tingled.

Even when I told myself I had to keep my distance, I found myself gravitating toward Liam. There was something about him. Whether he was being cocky or playful or vulnerable — something called to me. I wanted to ease his worries. Share in his antics. Bask in his confidence.

Shit. I was in so much trouble.

"You don't seem nervous at all," Liam noted.

I lowered my hand and took a step back. "I don't get nervous before performing."

Or, at least, I didn't usually. I loved being on stage. It felt like the one place where I could finally let go and be the person I wanted to be. The person I was supposed to be.

But Liam was right. This was a whole different dynamic, completely new circumstances.

It didn't matter. I couldn't let any of that show. My bandmates would take their cues from me.

Besides, when I'd given them that pep talk, I'd only been speaking the truth. We'd worked so hard for this. And we'd finally, finally, made it. I was going to enjoy the hell out of myself out there on that stage.

The door to the artist lounge opened. I heard the distant shouts of fans crying out for Cherry Lips. I expected to see one of the event staff coming in to let us know how much longer we had before going on.

But someone else was striding in. Someone I hadn't seen in a while.

Someone from my past. Someone from Harper's past.

Morris Edwards, drummer of hit rock band Feral Silence. My childhood friend. The man I'd relied on for half my life.

The man partly responsible for my fiancé's death.