To my ears, the room fell eerily silent. The sound of the guys talking and eating became muted. The only thing I heard was the rapid pounding of my heartbeat.

It had been many months since I'd last seen Morris. We'd first reconnected, after being estranged for years, because of his girlfriend. She'd found the emotional wounds still festering from Harper's death and helped him through it. She'd tracked me down and encouraged a reunion.

Seeing Morris was confusing, painful, but I didn't begrudge her for it. I had missed him over the years. I didn't regret having him back in my life.

That didn't mean I wasn't conflicted over having him show up out of the blue like this.

With his short hair cut close to his scalp and his broad shoulders taking up most of the doorframe, Morris looked more bodyguard than rock star, but anyone who saw him behind a drum set would never doubt his true calling.

"Hey." The corner of Morris's lips tilted up an inch, as close to a grin as I'd ever seen on the stoic man.

"Hey." I returned his smile with a small one of my own.

I didn't really blame Morris for Harper's death. I knew it wasn't his fault. But seeing Morris again ripped open those still barely healed scars. It reminded me of everything I'd tried to put behind me. Everything I'd tried to forget.

Everything that had resurfaced since meeting Liam.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, not unkindly.

"Came to see your show." That tilt of his lips curved a fraction higher. His brown eyes held a note of pride.

"Thanks for coming, man," my brother said. "But you gotta know we're gonna make your band look like shit compared to us." He smirked, but his eyes flicked to me.

Gael knew what had happened. He'd been there. He'd seen the fallout. He knew how difficult this was for me.

"That's a long drive, just to come out for one show," I said.

"Wouldn't miss it," Morris said simply. He regarded me silently, then held out his arms.

With a moment of hesitation, I stepped forward, letting him embrace me with a squeeze. I wrapped my own arms around him. I was taller than average, especially with my heeled boots, but Morris was even more so. My top of my head didn’t even reach his chin.

His hand on my back was as comforting as it was heart wrenching. Old memories flashed though my mind. There was something missing. A second hand was supposed to be on my back next to his. The double embrace of the two men who meant so much to me. Harper, the love of my life, and Morris, the brother of my heart.

Tears pricked the back of my eyes. A vast emptiness in my chest gaped open. The void where Harper's hand was supposed to be both burned with regret and chilled with mourning.

I let go of Morris and stepped back. I hoped my glistening eyes didn't give me away. Despite his impassive expression, from the shine in Morris's own eyes, I knew he was just as affected.

"Who's this?" Liam asked from behind me.

Blinking back tears and clearing my throat, I made introductions. "Liam, this is Morris, an old friend."

Morris held out his hand to Liam, who eyed it suspiciously.

"Morris Edwards," the drummer said.

Recognition lit up in Liam's eyes. "Feral Silence?" he asked.

Morris nodded.

"And you know Cerise?" Liam asked.

"We go way back," he said.

Liam looked between me and Morris. The frown on his lips didn't ease. If anything, it deepened.

"You two are close," he said.

I examined Liam with a careful eye. The statement was almost accusing.

"Morris is a childhood friend," I explained. "We've known each other for more than half our lives."

Despite being a little annoyed at Liam's unfriendly demeanor, that small, insecure part inside me felt just a bit delighted at his possessiveness.

Liam Knight could have any girl he wanted, but he wanted me. And he couldn't hide his annoyance at seeing me hug another man.

That really shouldn't have pleased me as much as it did.

"You're new," Morris noted with a questioning tone, seemingly not noticing Liam's frown, or simply choosing to ignore it.

"I'm Cerise's new guitarist," Liam replied.

"He's filling in for me," I said. "Singing and playing at the same time was getting to be a bit much. We decided a temporary session guitarist would be a good idea for the tour."

Morris nodded. Way back with our old band, I hadn't played guitar while singing, either. "How've you been?"

"Working our asses off," I said. "I don't think we've ever rehearsed for a show as much as this one."

"It'll pay off," he reassured us. "It's hard work, but worth it."

"How's the band?"

"Doing great. Working on a new album. Kell's his usual annoying self. Insists on making half the album his solo songs." Morris's lips twitched upward. As much as he complained, I knew he had a soft spot for his obnoxious yet oddly charming lead singer.

"And Natalie?" I asked, referring to his girlfriend. "You two are good?"

Morris's eyes went soft, tender. "More than good." He pulled out his phone and tapped the screen before turning to show me. It was the sales page of a high end jewelry retailer, displaying a silver ring with an enormous rock.

My mouth widened into an O. "Things are that serious?"

He nodded. "Just waiting for the right time."

"Good for you," I said, even as my heart broke a little. Morris deserved to find happiness, but it didn't make the situation hurt any less.

Morris was getting the chance to marry the love of his life. A chance I never got.

There was a knock on the door before it opened. Through the open door we could now hear the screaming of the audience, loud and frenzied.

"Five minutes," the skinny kid popped his head in to say.

"Fans are going crazy," Morris said to the others. "You ready?"

"More than ready," Gael boasted. "We're going to blow the roof off."

The rest of the band joined in with nods of affirmation.

"We've got this," I said, aiming for bold and self-assured. The shaky note in my voice was so slight, I didn't think anyone noticed.

"You'll be great out there," Morris said quietly. "I know it."

His words calmed me. Filled me with determination.

"Of course we will," I replied with a smirk. "We're Cherry Lips. We're going to take the world by storm."

"Better get going, then," he said.

"Going to wish me good luck?" I asked.

Morris smiled. "You don't need it."

The band made our way to the curtain backstage. We barely had enough time to grab our instruments from the crew before the lights went down and we were given our cue. We made a circle and, with clenched hands, did a six-way fist bump, our usual ritual.

"Alright, guys," I said. I looked at each of them in turn. No hint of nerves. Just fiery resolve, an eagerness, a familiar hunger burning in their eyes. "Let's put on the show of our lives."

We took our places. I was center stage. Gael and Julian were on my left. Liam and Nathan were on my right. Seth was positioned behind us. The lights were still down. I ran through our set list in my head, preparing myself.

I had caved when it came to the set list. Liam had been on to something when he talked about switching opening and closing songs. Starting with Nineteen set the tone of the concert.

It wasn't just a rock show. We weren't just playing music. We were wringing emotions from the audience. We were enchanting them, seducing them.

In those moments on stage, the audience was our lover. We gave ourselves to them and asked them to give themselves to us in return.

It wasn't just a rock show.

It was a torrid love affair.

How fitting, then, our choice of opening song.

It was one of the earliest Cherry Lips song I'd ever written about my first, and only, true love.

The lights went up, blinding me. The crowd roared. Seth hit his drumsticks. Julian smashed his fingers down on the keys with a thundering crash. Nathan and Liam shredded their fingers across their fret boards. Gael joined in with bass, a familiar heavy beat thrumming through my body.

My hand squeezed around the microphone.

Ending the concert with Nineteen was easy. I was hyped up, running on adrenaline, basking in the glory of an enraptured audience — the past was a distant memory. It had no power to hurt me. I lived fully in the present.

But Morris had just walked back into my life and stirred up unwanted thoughts, unwanted feelings. All my old grief hit me with full force.

My throat closed up. My mouth went dry. My hands trembled.

I couldn't do this.

The concert had already started and I was so close to crying, tears were already stinging my eyes.

Shit. I had to pull myself together or I was going to blow this whole thing.

The song had a long intro. I kept my head bowed, long hair covering my face, gripping the microphone with both hands. It was a typical lead singer pose, as if I was a tiger lying in wait, waiting for the right moment to let loose with my claws and jump on my prey.

I caught movement through the curtain of my hair. Liam was sidling up next to me. It seemed as if his fingers both lovingly stroked and frantically tore at the strings of his guitar.

I lifted my head a fraction, meeting his eyes. The spotlights hit them, making them glow. Despite the cocky smirk on his face, his eyes glimmering with concern. Concern, but also reassurance.

He mouthed five words.

You're a fucking rock star.

A slow smile crossed my face.

I often felt vulnerable around Liam. He knocked me off balance. I had shown him too much of myself. I'd revealed more than I'd cared to.

But there were these other times. Times like this when he looked at me, so sure in my talent, so confident. He looked at me like he had complete faith in me. Like he was in awe of me.

I didn't feel vulnerable in these moments. I felt strong. Powerful.

Liam tilted his chin smugly and jerked it toward the audience, as if to say, what are you waiting for?

He was right. What the hell was I waiting for?

I shoved aside thoughts of grief and pain and heartbreak. I lifted my head high and looked out at the cheering crowd.

I inhaled deeply, getting ready to let loose with familiar lyrics, passionate and full of fervor.

I'm not going to let grief stop me, I thought to myself. This is my moment.

I'm going to burn like the sun.