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He’s right. The entire arena is wired with cameras, catching every reaction, every intimate moment. I should be paying attention to the show and to the presenters announcing the first round of awards. Instead, I’m hyperaware of Lila’s perfume, the way her hand feels in mine, and the slight nervous energy radiating off her.
“And the award for Song of the Year goes to...” There’s that dramatic pause they all do. “Kendrick Wild for ‘Another Night, Another Tear’ performed by Pixie Cane!”
Kendrick faces the crowd as she stands in front of the microphone. She’s composed but glowing. “This song came from a place of raw honesty,” she says, clutching the golden award. “And I couldn’t have written it without my rock, my heart, my everything—Cass.”
The camera cuts to Cass, and he’s not even trying to hide his emotions. He smiles wider, his eyes glowing with that intense, unshakable devotion he always has for her.
“And to our beautiful daughter Cassidy, who teaches me daily what love really means.” Kendrick blows a kiss toward the camera for Cassidy, who she knows is watching from home.
Kendrick continues, turning to where Pixie is standing near the edge of the stage. “Pixie, thank you for taking this song and making it so much more than I ever imagined. Your voice, your artistry—it brought these lyrics to life in a way only you can.”
Pixie grins and rushes onto the stage, pulling Kendrick into a tight hug before taking the mic.
“This woman is a freaking wizard,” Pixie says, flipping her pink-streaked hair over her shoulder. “Seriously, Kendrick, I’d be honored to sing anything you write. You just say the word.”
The crowd cheers, and Cass stands. I catch the moment he reaches for Kendrick’s hand as she steps down, her fingers sliding effortlessly into his.
It’s so damn easy for them.
Like breathing.
I glance at Lila out of the corner of my eye.
She’s still clapping, still smiling, as she watches Kendrick return to her seat.
I want that with her.
More than I’ve ever wanted anything.
The night moves on, the awards rolling out oneby one.
The tension ramps up when the category for Album of the Year is next. The host is back, and I feel the energy in our section shift.
“Album of the Year nominees are...”
Lila’s grip on my hand tightens as they play clips from each nominated album. When they get to ours, “Living Wild,” the screen fills with footage from our stadium tour, the crowds singing along to every word.
“And the Award goes to...”
I hold my breath, feeling the same tension from the rest of the band. We’ve won before, but this album was different. More personal. More real.
“Wild Band for ‘Living Wild’!”
The roar is deafening. We’re all on our feet, hugging, laughing. Cass pulls Kendrick into a passionate kiss before we head to the stage. I steal one last look at Lila, and the pride shining in her eyes makes my heart stutter.
The weight of the award in my hands feels familiar but no less thrilling. Cass takes the lead at the microphone, thanking our producers, our team, and our families. When he gets to Kendrick and Cassidy, his voice roughens with emotion.
Nate thanks the fans, always the diplomatic one. Vince makes everyone laugh with a quick quip about finally having something heavy enough to use as a doorstop.
When it’s my turn, I find Lila in the crowd. She’s glowing, clapping, and looking at me like I’ve hung the moon. And suddenly, I know exactly what to say.
“Damn,” I breathe out, adjusting the mic. The crowd laughs, but my chest tightens with something deeper than nerves. Gratitude.
“Sometimes the best music comes from unexpected places,” I say, scanning the room, my gaze instinctively locking on Lila. She’s watching me with those warm hazel eyes that somehow ground me, even in a moment this big. “Like when you’re sharing pancakes at midnight, and you’re hungry for something more than just food.”
The audience probably thinks I’m being metaphorical, but Lila’s hand flies to her mouth, her eyes shining.
“This album,” I continue, clearing my throat, “was a labor of love. And, honestly, a little bit of chaos. We wrote these songs on the road, in dressing rooms, and in hotel rooms at three in the morning. We lived them before we ever recordedthem. And to see them resonate with so many people? That’s the real award.”