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That set list still had covers, but now we only had eight of them—and I knew that number would dwindle the longer we played together. The remaining songs were originals.

Denver. Just the idea scared the shit out of me.

I’d been there a few times for school field trips and when my grandparents took mom and me to the Museum of Nature and Science and when one of my mom’s cousins got married.

Then another time, mom and I picked up my grandparents from DIA, but I was still a stranger to the state capital.

I was just glad I didn’t have to drive. Nopal, Dalton, and the highway between were enough for me.

In fact, Zack was the only one who wound up having to drive, because his mom let him borrow her SUV and hook up a U-Haul trailer to the back of it.

So in the very back of the vehicle, we had small stuff, but the majority of instruments and other equipment were in the trailer.

And his sweet mother, worried about us driving back home after playing a show till one in the morning, offered to pay for a motel room for us, but my mom wasn’t hearing it.

If I couldn’t come home after the show, then maybe I shouldn’t be playing in a band.

Fortunately, the guys understood. But on the way there, Zack said, “Just wait’ll you’re eighteen, Dani. Then she can’t tell you shit.”

“You’re not eighteen yet, Zack. How can you be so sure?”

“Just two more days, babe.”

Babe? Had I misheard that?

I must have. “Yeah, well, enjoy it.”

“I’ve been thinking about it. The one thing missing is being able to purchase my own damn alcohol.”

“That doesn’t seem to have stopped you.”

His shrug told me all I needed to know. We’d been driving for over two hours, had already gone through Pueblo and Colorado Springs and other small towns along the way, and were less than an hour from the venue.

It was just off the beaten path, according to Zack, in a busy neighborhood not far from bustling downtown.

Braden, in the seat behind me, said, “Dudes, I promise you it’s not anything to get excited about. I had to register for the Selective Service.”

Cy, sitting behind Zack, spoke for the first time in over an hour on the trip. “Yeah, I’m not sure how I feel about that.”

“You’re already eighteen, aren’t you?”

I turned around to see Cy’s answer to Braden’s question, and his nod told me all I needed to know. That also let me know I was the youngest of our group—not by much, but enough.

“I don’t know if you guys looked up the venue, but it’s pretty popular. It promotes itself as underground, but they’re not really. What’s cool is they feature established bands but also welcome newcomers like us.”

“Established bands?” Braden asked. “Like who?”

“Like Saving Abel, just last night.”

“Oh, shit.”

“I also don’t know if I told you guys, but we’re just the openers. There’s another popular Colorado metal band called Pretty Little Lies who have a pretty big following, so we’re gonna get some major exposure tonight.”

“This’ll be our big break.”

Zack shook his head. “Not even close. We don’t have enough original material—but we’ll get our name out there, you know? Get seen.”

“True.”

I couldn’t really see Braden behind me, but I looked at Cy and smiled before turning back around to face the front. The poor guy. Cy was so damn good at his job but I was discovering he was shy—and so performing for hundreds of people wasn’t his idea of a good time.

But he was a good sport.

What I found the funniest was how damned arrogant he was when it came to his playing. I would have thought he’d be eager to show off his skills.

Twenty minutes later, we were entering the Denver Metro area.

I was struck by a lot of things but the first was the enormity.

To the north, lights stretched as far as my eyes could see.

And we were surrounded by cars, the number of which had been growing steadily since Castle Rock, on four lanes going one way.

But none of this seemed to faze Zack, and the excitement radiated off him like heat from an oven.

His energy told us this was fucking real.

Surrounded by frenetic yet controlled energy and lights and connection, I began feeling the excitement Zack had. Gone were my nerves. I was ready to entertain people, to make music better than we ever had before.

Guided by the maps program on his phone, Zack finally turned off the freeway, but the streets were no less crowded—just driving a little more slowly.

As much as the city intimidated me, my nerves tingled and my eyes widened at the sights.

Homes, followed by restaurants and shops, banks and apartment buildings, offices and high rises that packed every square inch, and there were vehicles everywhere—crammed in parking spaces and lining the lanes of the streets.

After several miles, though, those gave way to a more industrial neighborhood.

We drove past liquor stores and bars, warehouses and large stores, with the occasional antique or book shop.

The buildings didn’t seem rundown, but this part of the city had a different vibe—gritty and lower income.

Maybe it was the billboards that hunkered over the buildings here and there or all the tall wrought-iron fences in the spaces between structures or the bars on some of the windows.

It felt like Nopal compared to Dalton.

When we arrived at the address, Zack struggled to find a parking place, driving around the block. There were cars all over, and I knew they weren’t there for the doggie daycare next door or the dry cleaners on the other side.

That meant they were here for the music.

Zack parked about a block away, but he had to be careful with that stupid trailer behind us.

Then he turned off the map app on his phone and made a call.

“Hey, this is Zack Ryan with Once Upon a Riot. We’re here but I’m not sure where to park.

” In just half a minute, he was driving the SUV again, turning around the block before making a left and driving down an alley.

“Sketchy as fuck,” Braden said.

“Not even, my man.” As Zack made his way down the dark alley, he slowed when a guy stepped out from a doorway, waving his hand. When we got close, Zack pushed a button to roll down my window on the passenger side. “Harry?”

“Hi, Zack. Hey, guys.” The middle-aged man glanced in the car at all of us, but I doubted he could see much.

“You can unload here. We have a holding area inside so get it unloaded and set up. And see right there?” He pointed several yards down the alley to the right.

“That’s our makeshift parking lot if you can fit in there.

Pretty Little Lies should be able to get in next to you, but you might be stuck there until they’re done. ”

“Sounds good. Thanks.” Zack opened his door and hopped out. “I wanna see them anyway. You guys good with that?”

“Hell, yeah!”

I was game for anything—so long as I didn’t have to do much afterward. Even though I was getting better and better and less fatigued the more I played, my arms still felt like lead after playing for an hour straight.

“You never know when we’ll make some good friends and connections that’ll come in handy later.” Zack had a plan, a vision, and I trusted him, as did our bandmates.

We unloaded everything, placing it temporarily in the holding area Harry told us about, and then Braden went with Zack to park the car.

Zack wanted some eyes on the outside to guide him in if he needed it.

Meanwhile, Harry started showing Cy and me the way to the stage.

“Oh, I need your hands, please.” I gave Cy a look, hoping maybe he knew what the hell the guy was talking about—but he was as clueless as I.

Harry took out a black Sharpie. “I knew you kids were young but you’re even younger than I thought.

” On the top of my hand, he drew a big X .

“This lets my staff know that you’re okay to be here but too young to drink.

You can have as many nonalcoholic drinks as you want, though, on the house. ”

Zack was going to be disappointed by the no-drinking rule—but I knew playing in this place would cheer him right up.

I hadn’t been in all the way yet, but I already knew this venue was dedicated to music, whereas the other two places we’d played were for drinking.

Music was just a nice addition when it happened but it wasn’t the main attraction like it seemed to be here.

Soon, we were hauling everything toward the stage: pieces of the drum kit, amps, and other equipment I hadn’t seen before.

I could hear a couple of cheers and see people moving toward the low stage as we did our thing, and I allowed myself to look out past our little area.

The place was huge, especially compared to the two places we’d played before.

I had no idea how many people would fit here, but there weren’t many bodies in the building yet.

It looked to be about half the size of a basketball court in depth from the area past the stage to the front.

The entrance was to the left, the bar to the right.

It wasn’t so dim in there that I couldn’t make out the red brick walls and wooden floors.

Zack plugged in some cables while Braden helped me set up the drums. I didn’t know where Cy was at the moment, but Zack approached us after a few moments and said, “What’d I tell ya?”

Braden stood up, his excitement impossible to contain. “This makes me feel like we’re already legit rock stars, dude. You kick ass!”

“This is just the beginning.”

Soon, we were all backstage waiting for the show to begin. We had over half an hour, and we peeked out once in a while to see the steady flow of bodies filling the venue. The vibe couldn’t be ignored.

This was gonna be huge.

Zack was doing a few vocal warmups, something I hadn’t heard him do before, and Cy was sipping at a glass of water—but he didn’t look so good. “You okay, Cy?”