The rumble of the crowd rolls through the guys and me as we stand in the wings of the stage, waiting for our introduction. The excitement is palpable, a unique mix of adrenaline and euphoria spawned by what is about to come. We’ve graced hundreds of stages worldwide the past decade, yet the excitement never weakens. But today. . . today exceeds all expectations. We walk onto this stage as bandmates, but we will leave as brothers.

I watch the men I’ve grown up alongside as they’re introduced one by one. Nick, the goofball who cried without shame for the unborn baby he loved the instant he knew of his existence. Slater, the tattooed bad boy who went to the depths of hell only to emerge out the other end stronger than ever. And Marcus, the Dom who sacrificed his own happiness to ensure the band was never subjected to a negative light. They’ve been with me from the very beginning, before Rise Up was even Rise Up. Our band’s name has served us well. We rose through the ashes to become the greatest musical prodigy you could ever imagine.

It didn’t come easy.

I lost both of my brothers in tragic circumstances. Slater worries every day that his wife will succumb to the same illness that shortened his sister’s life by eight decades. Nick is constantly on edge that his old life will wreak havoc on the dream he lives every day, and Marcus didn’t just face discrimination against his African American heritage, he tackled the naysayers who wrongly believe BDSM is an excuse to abuse the person you love.

But even with enough controversy to take down the most solid group, we walk away the strongest. We started in this industry as boys, but we leave as men.

The deafening chant of the crowd doubles when my name is called. The fame, the fortune, it wouldn’t have been possible without the people stomping their feet and clapping their hands. But do you know what? They’re not the only ones we must thank.

My wife—the light who drew me out of the darkness to repair my blackened soul when I was five seconds from drowning.

Jenni—the woman who showed Nick he deserves more than he could have ever fathomed.

Kylie—the country girl who tamed the wild boy by loving him as only she could.

And last, but not at all least, Cleo—an angel descended from heaven to show Marcus what I failed to do for years—he is worthy.

They deserve the credit as well. Without them, we wouldn’t be here. Our band had what it took to make it big, but it was those holding us up when we nearly fell that kept us from crumbling years ago.

And that is why we are here now. Saying our final goodbye.

After returning the exuberant slaps of my brothers, I stand behind the mic for the last time. I should be weighed down with guilt that we’ve unanimously decided to call it quits after a decade of glory. I should feel sorrow that after nearly twenty years of hard work, we want to lavish in our lifestyle instead of rebelling against it. I should feel bad that I’m retiring at the tender age of thirty-two. But instead of feeling any of those things, all I am feeling is freedom.

“We achieved greatness. We took the world by storm. But now it is time for us to return our thanks.”

My eyes drift to Emily. She is as shocked as the other wives when I began our press conference with news of Rise Up’s intention to step away from the limelight. They didn’t know about our plans; we kept them to ourselves, deciding to surprise our wives and families along with thousands of fans anticipating our next world tour announcement. They are indeed shocked, but they are also thrilled. This industry isn’t for the weak at heart. It syphons out the good and nourishes the greedy, but with the right people at the helm of our ship, we managed to avoid those things.

“Our wives have stood by our sides through thick and thin. It is time for us to return the favor. We want to support their dreams as well as they supported ours. We want to have their backs. We can’t do that at the same time as doing this.”

I wave my hand to the guys standing behind me. Their smiles reveal they are as relieved by our decision as I am. We’ve been in this industry for years, aging two for every six months we’ve spent in the spotlight. I initiated the idea of retiring, but they grasped my suggestion with two hands and ran with it, their eagerness as strong as mine.

“Although this is the end of an era, don’t misconstrue this as the end of Rise Up. Slater, Nick, Marcus and I will continue as we always have. We were brothers long before the fame, and we will be brothers long after the light fades. Keep us in your memories as you chase your own light, just make sure it is a fair fight. Find your brothers and unite, because without them, you’re in for one hell of a fight.”

I choke on my last two sentences, their double meaning wreaking havoc with my stomach. I wrote those lyrics after I was informed of the events that led to my brother’s suicide. For years, I was angry at Chris, believing he had left me to battle my demons on my own. Only after Ryan confessed what happened that day did I realize I was wrong. He shouldn’t have killed himself. He should have expressed his sorrow and given me the chance to redeem him from his unnecessary guilt. But even angry that he wrongly believed I’d be better off without him, I don’t blame him for what happened that day. I don’t even blame Ryan.

With the help of Emily, Jacob, and my band, I realized that Chris was hurting. He simply found a way to ease his pain. I’ll never agree with his decision, but I’ll never stop loving him either. His death inspires me to be a better man, because I’m not just living the dream—I’m living the life neither he or Michael got to live. It has been one fucked up ride, but I’d be lying if I said the good times haven’t outweighed the bad.

The wetness I’m striving to ignore in my eyes doubles when Slater bands his arm around my shoulder at the same time Marcus’s body heats my opposite side. Never one to step away from the limelight without adding his own dramatic flair, Nick jumps onto my back and ruffles my hair.

Although I have another two pages of speech prepared, I realize it isn’t needed. My bandmates’ response during my moment of need reveals everything I planned to say.

Just like Jacob, they are my brothers for eternity, as I am theirs.