Page 38 of Pretty When It Burns (When The Lights Go Down #1)

Chapter thirty-five

"Bad Nature" - Nerv

Mia

Grayson makes it through the whole show by himself. I’d been waiting for his anxiety to take over, for him to motion for me to join him, but he never did. He’d been electric onstage, like something had snapped into place the second the lights hit him.

The vibe backstage is just as intense. Jake is practically levitating with pride, ranting in half-sentences about the crowd’s energy and the syndication. He’s so amped up he even breaks his clipboard.

“Okay,” he mutters, holding both pieces in stunned silence. “That was my favorite one.”

Rylee has taken my place out in the crowd to take photos at the recommendation of the tour team—something about being concerned for my safety outside of the backstage area and the media booth.

Because of that, Johanna and I have been stationed side-stage the entire time, jumping around like teenagers, screaming the lyrics and gripping each other’s arms whenever the crowd loses their minds.

It’s like magic, and easily the best show of the tour.

When the final note rings out and the crowd roars one last time, a tap on my shoulder takes my attention away from the moment.

“Miss Alexander, you’re needed at the media booth,” one of the stage managers tells me.

“It can’t wait?” I ask with exasperation, wanting nothing more than to bask in the post-show glow with Grayson and catch him coming off stage.

“Something about someone missing a key shot?” he insists. “I’m sorry—they said it was urgent.”

I sigh and hand Johanna my headset, ready to rip the head off of whichever stupid intern thought that now is the best time to play tag team with the media crew.

I want to see Grayson’s face, the one he saves for after the lights cut out and the adrenaline is fading.

I want to tell him how proud of him I am.

How I’ve never seen him so magnetic and so completely himself.

But I don’t get that moment.

By the time I reached the media booth, whatever issue there was had been resolved.

The headlining band’s team is already setting up and my crew is nowhere to be found.

Furious, I turn around and storm back through the chaos backstage.

I hate that I’m not the first person he sees coming down from the show. I’d promised him I would be.

I focus on regaining my composure as if I hadn’t just been ready to deck an unsuspecting intern and finally make it back to the dressing room door.

“Hey, rockstar! I—”

There’s nothing that could’ve prepared me for what I see when I come through the door.

Grayson looks shattered. He sits on the couch, elbows on his knees and head in his hands, his phone on the floor between his legs like it had burned him. He doesn’t even look up at the sound of my voice.

“Gray?” I ask carefully.

I’m scared to come near him.

Scared to touch him.

He looks up, blinking a few times as if it takes him a second to register that I’m here. When his eyes finally meet mine, I know. I know before he even says anything.

“Mia,” he says, and his voice… God, his voice.

It cracks me wide open.

“I missed the call,” he mutters. “I was on stage, and I fucking missed it.”

I cross the room in an instant and pull him into my arms, shutting the door behind me with one hand. No one else needs to see this.

“She’s gone,” I whisper, needing to hear the words come off of my lips for both of us.

His body folds into mine and his hands grip the back of my shirt like he’s clinging to me for dear life. He sobs into my shoulder—violent, heart-wrenching sounds I’ve never heard him make before.

I don’t know what else to do. I move us back onto the couch, guiding him down so I can hold him tighter.

My fingers run slow, steady lines across his back, and I just let him cry.

There’s nothing to fix. No magic thing I can say.

I know that—even though I still wish there was.

So I just keep holding him while his world caves in.

Then the door bursts open.

Johanna stumbles through it like the floor’s been ripped out from under her. Her makeup is ruined, her eyes bloodshot, and her body shakes as she sinks down on the floor beside the couch on Grayson’s other side. She clings to him, trying to find something solid to hold on to.

We stay this way for a long time. Long enough for the roar of the crowd to fade, for the next set to start, for the whole world to keep spinning even though ours has stopped.

Eventually, Grayson stands. Quiet. Composed, in the terrifying way that grief sometimes makes you when it’s completely taking you over.

“I need to get out of here,” he says hollowly.

“Okay,” I reply, trying to keep my voice steady as I stand and begin gathering our things. “Okay, we’ll go tell Jake what happened and we’ll get on the first flight—”

“What do you mean we?”

The words hit me like a slap. It comes so suddenly that I almost don’t register what he said.

“You’re not coming.”

“What?” I ask, my breath catching. “What are you talking about?”

He won’t look at me.

“We—Johanna and I—need to take care of this,” he says, his voice flat, like he’s already made the decision and doesn’t want to explain it. “You should stay here.”

It’s cruel. It’s not Grayson. Not my Grayson.

My heart stumbles. I have to be in the middle of a nightmare. This isn’t really happening—is it?

“Gray,” I plead, trying to step closer and close the growing distance between us. “I want to be there. For you. For both of you. Why—?”

“I can’t fucking do this with you there,” he yells, his voice exploding around us. “I can’t think. I can’t feel anything except the weight of you watching me, waiting to fix me. I don’t want you to fix me, Mia.”

The words knock the air right out of my lungs. Slice me right open.

I know it’s the grief talking. I know he’s spiraling in the worst way. I know he isn’t himself.

But it doesn’t stop the way my body reels from the sudden impact. It doesn’t stop it from feeling like everything’s on fire.

Dark and dangerous, he continues. “I need space. I need to do this without you.”

I nod. Because what else is there to do?

My throat burns and my eyes sting, but I don’t let the tears fall. He doesn’t get to see me fall apart.

He doesn’t say goodbye. Instead, he gathers his jacket, his sister, and every piece of himself that I love without another word.

As the door shuts behind him, he doesn’t look back. Then I realize—I don’t know if he ever will.