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THIRTY-ONE

WESLEY

“Lana’s Mischief! Lana’s Mischief! Lana’s Mischief!” The crowd cheers loud enough to shake the stadium. My heart races, and my head swims from the adrenaline. I’m fucking pumped to be here.

This will be the last Lana’s Mischief concert, and I couldn’t be prouder of how it came together. We plan to perform most of our hit singles, as well as one song that was unreleased from our last unfinished album. It will be our last track as a group.

After my last trip to rehab, I knew I was done with making music and touring. My heart just wasn’t in it anymore. I will always love music and the opportunities it’s bought me, but I think it’s best that I hang up performing, leaving that to the new artists Mitch signs on to his label.

But before that, I wanted to make it up to the fans for the tour we cancelled before I went to rehab the first time. They’re in the front row, their tickets free of charge. We also met them yesterday in their own private meet and greet, and I personally apologized to them.

Now, we’re playing our last show in the stadium where I hit rock bottom and collapsed in my own vomit. It’s like coming full circle.

Mitch steps up beside me with a wide grin on his handsome face. “You ready for this?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

He nudges me. “It’s gonna be great. Don’t worry.”

I jump on the balls of my feet, shaking my arms out. My heart thumps hard against my ribs, but as soon as I walk on that stage, I’ll relax into the old routine of singing for the crowd.

A hand snakes around my side, and I melt into the touch, knowing it can only be Jaxon. I’d know his touch anywhere.

“You’re going to kill it,” he says in my ear before planting a sweet kiss on my cheek. “When we get home, I’ll show you just how well you did.”

Looking over at him, my heart spills over with love. God, he’s the best thing that ever happened to me.

Like he told me before I went to treatment the second time, he was there every step of the way.

He called, visited, and wrote me stupid letters that made me crack up and hold on to the fact that I’d be out of there and he’d be waiting for me.

And he was. Front and center when I was finally discharged.

Going back to rehab was hard as fuck. I felt like a fucking failure, like I was given a second chance, and I fucked it off because I was too weak to get to my feet and say no.

I made amends again before I came home, and now, I’m able to move forward with my recovery.

Zed hurries over, and Jaxon steps back so he can help me strap my guitar on.

“This is it,” he says to me, Mitch, and Kas, who walked up with him.

“Your last show.” He stops talking and clears his throat as he glances down at his feet.

After a few beats, he meets our gazes in turn and in a choked voice says, “It’s been an honor to be your manager. ”

I cuff him on the arm, making him chuckle. “We’re still friends, Zed. You just won’t have to keep us straight on the road anymore.”

“Thank all that’s holy,” he murmurs, and we all laugh as our backing music comes on.

I turn to Jaxon and hug him. When we pull free, I give him a long kiss, hoping to press every ounce of my love for him into it.

He sighs against my lips with a smile. “Break a leg, baby.”

With one more peck, I walk out on stage after Mitch and Kas to raucous applause.

I smile and wave, making the crowd cheer louder.

When I get to the mic, I lean in and say, “Thank you all for coming out. We’re honored to be here with you tonight, playing our last show.

” More cheers and applause sound while I strum my guitar along to the backing track.

“All proceeds tonight go to at-risk youth that end up on the streets. If you’d like to donate, check the back of your ticket for the link.

If you ordered tickets online, there’s a link in your confirmation email. ”

“You fucking rule, Ryder!” one fan yells.

“We love Lana’s Mischief!” someone else shouts.

“Fuck Tech!” yet another fan yells, and that makes me smile, if only slightly.

Right after news broke that I was back in rehab, Tech started looking for his fifteen minutes of fame.

He went on a talk show to peddle some tell-all book he had in the works, several chapters chronicling the night I overdosed in his hotel room.

He tried to paint himself in a light that said he attempted to get me to stop using, but I did the drugs I found in his room.

The woman that was there that night came forward with the real story, as well as a shaky video from that night, showing Tech not only giving me pills and pouring me shot after shot but also drawing a line of coke for me and practically shoving my face into it.

What little career he had after that fell apart.

I have no idea where he is now and I don’t care.

I have no desire to try to make amends with him this time around.

I’ve never pushed blame on him for what I did.

I chose to stay in that hotel room and get shitfaced and do enough drugs that I overdosed.

I’m an adult, and I could have said no or walked out of that room as soon as I saw it littered with all those bottles of booze.

I just didn’t want to. What I do blame him for is trying to expose me and play the good guy when he told me he wanted to ruin my sobriety.

I don’t address that comment shouted at me because I might agree and I’m trying to leave this stage with my tattered reputation intact.

“All right,” Kas says, “if you know the words, sing along. You ready, Ryder?”

“Oh yeah. Let’s go!” Then we jump right into “Prayers For Me”.

The crowd sings along, on perfect key to the song.

We roll from one track to the next, having fun and enjoying our final concert. I croon the lyrics, singing my heart out, wanting to remember my last show as the best one I’ve ever put on.

After finishing our song, I look at my bandmates, and both of them give me a thumbs-up and a smile.

I grin back before I turn to the mic. “What do you all think about us performing my favorite song?” Their cheers give me my answer.

“Since it’s our last show, I figured it’s only right that we perform the song that started our careers, “In the Stars”. ”

The backing music is turned off, and the three of us play a pure version of “In the Stars”.

As I sing, I look toward the backstage and see Jaxon smiling widely at me, his hands clasped and resting under his chin.

I keep eye contact with him while I sing, remembering the first time he heard it. We were so young back then.

In our next life, we could be more…

So much more than what we are…

So for now, baby, look for me in the stars…

When the last note fades out, the crowd goes fucking wild, stomping their feet and yelling at the top of their lungs.

Behind me, Mitch and Kas keep playing, giving me time to try to catch my breath.

“Before we go, I want to play one last song for you guys. One I wrote for my husband.” It takes only a moment for the crowd to understand what I said, but as soon as they do, they cheer and scream.

“Yeah, I got married last month to the man I’ve been in love with since I was fourteen.

Can you believe he wanted to marry a crazy fucker like me?

” The crowd screams yes, which makes me smile.

“This song is called “Inside Moments” . ”

After strumming my guitar, we break into an upbeat song about my life with Jaxon. It has us jumping around the stage and the crowd in a frenzy.

Inside the moments we share…

Nothing will ever compare to…

The love you give me…

And the burden you bear being…

My inside moment…

I look backstage at Jaxon, who’s rocking out, playing air guitar. My husband has no rhythm and two left feet, but I love dancing with him anyway. It’s one of our inside moments.

The song ends, and I smile up at the camera circling overhead, my face clear on the jumbotron. I’m happy with the way my career is ending. I was afraid no one would attend, since our last concert was such a fucking disaster because of me.

But people showed up for us, giving us their love and appreciation for what we do. It means the world to me, and I’ll keep it with me until the day I die.

Tearing my eyes away from the camera overhead, I look out at the crowd, sweeping my gaze so everyone feels seen.

Then my eyes snag on a familiar face, staring at me with so much hate I can feel it from dozens of feet away.

Tech.

Before I can react, he raises his arm, and something metallic flashes.

“Gun!” someone yells, then there’s chaos, people pushing and shoving to get out of the way. A loud bang sounds, and I fall to the ground, groaning in pain.

I lower my hand to my chest, feeling wetness there. My vision flickers, but my hand is bright red when I bring it up to my face.

Fuck, he shot me.

“Wesley!” Jaxon yells as he rushes over to me and presses his hand over my wound. “Wesley, oh my god, baby! Stay with me, please!”

I grunt when he pulls his shirt off and pushes it against where the blinding pain is radiating. God, it fucking hurts, the agony searing through me. My heart hammers erratically, skipping a beat here and there before it kicks up and thumps harder.

Other people crowd around me, but I only have eyes for Jaxon, clinging to those gray orbs as tears spill over. “Please, Wes. Stay…look at me! Stay with me.”

“I’m okay,” I grunt through the pain.

I reach up to touch Jaxon’s face, regretting that I’m getting blood on him but needing to feel his skin under my fingers. “I’m okay. It doesn’t hurt that bad.”

Hot tears drip on my face. I hate that he’s crying. My vision wavers, and I realize I’m crying too. I wipe at my face with a heavy hand, wanting to keep looking at Jaxon. My sight needs to be clear so I don’t miss anything.

“I’m going to be fine, baby,” I whisper, though I try to project my voice so he can hear me over the commotion. “Kiss me, please.”

Weeping in earnest, he bends down and presses his lips against mine. I can taste his anguish, and it sears something inside me. But feeling his kiss brings such a profound peace that it’s startling.

Resting his forehead to mine, he says, “Stay with me, Wes.”

“I’m here, baby. I’m okay,” I repeat.

Someone picks up my head and puts something soft under me, and I relax, sighing as wetness drips from my mouth. I fight to lift my hand to wipe it away, but it’ s like I have no control over my limbs, and they don’t listen to my commands.

“I can’t do this without you,” he sobs, holding the shirt harder against my chest. “I can’t live without you.”

“You don’t have to. I’m gonna be okay.” The lie is heavy on my tongue. My vision dims and the pain starts to fade. My limbs are heavy, and all I want to do is sleep. I’m so fucking tired.

I force my eyes open so I can peer up at Jaxon, so I can see him until I can’t anymore. “I love you, Jaxon Morgan. You’re the love of my life.”

“I love you too, Wesley. You’ve always been it for me. I’ll never find…”

All sound dims as I look into his beautiful gray eyes, watching his lips move but unable to make out the words. Then my vision flickers, darkness closing around the edges. The whole time, I stare at my Jaxon, hoping he knows I’ll be okay. That he’ll be okay.

It’s not so bad now. It doesn’t hurt so much anymore.

In fact, it doesn’t hurt at all.