Page 10

Naomi’s face shifts, a familiar softness creeping through.

“I nearly had a cardiac arrest on the spot. Full heart palpitations. I thought I was going to pass out and land face-first in his lap.”

Naomi lets out a wheeze. “Please tell me you didn’t.”

“Sadly, no,” I mutter. “Would’ve been a fun way to go, though.”

Naomi snorts so hard she chokes on air. “And now you’re about to walk into a sold-out venue,” she says, “and watch him on stage. After all these years.”

“Apparently so,” I mutter. “Because the universe is determined to be that bitch.”

She grins. “She really is.”

“What am I going to do?” I whisper.

Naomi shrugs, but her grip tightens gently on my hand. “Don’t know. But we’re not leaving.”

I nod. But my stomach is a blender on high. Because even now, even with panic twisting every nerve in my body, there’s something else underneath it.

A flutter. Light and hopeful. Like possibility.

And I hate myself for feeling it.

For the first time in years, it feels like I’m standing at the edge of something. But I can’t tell if it’s a cliff or a bridge.

When we finally reach the doors, the bouncer gives us a once-over, barely glancing at our tickets before waving us inside. Naomi blows him a kiss just to be cheeky, and I can’t help but laugh.

The moment we step through, the heat hits like a wall. It’s thick and humid, steeped in sweat, smoke, and anticipation. It smells like sticky beer mats, hairspray, and the perfume that clings to your clothes for days.

The crowd pulses with warm energy, moving like one massive, swaying organism. Someone brushes against my arm, another shoulder bumps against mine, and I instinctively draw closer to Naomi.

Inside, the world blurs. Lights strobe and flicker across the sea of heads. All pinks, violets, and a sharp, electric blue slice through the haze. The bass thrums up through the floor, into my boots, and settles deep in my chest. My pulse catches it—syncs with it.

Naomi leans in, shouting over the music. “God, it hasn’t changed at all, has it?”

She’s right. The place still has that same rough-around-the-edges charm.

All exposed brick and scaffolding, the bar lit up in pink neon, condensation streaking every surface.

It’s packed, but intimate in the way only a good venue can be.

Like the walls themselves know they’re holding something alive.

Naomi laughs, tugging me by the wrist toward the bar like a woman on a mission.

“First round’s on me,” I say, raising my voice over the noise.

The bar is hectic—sticky floors, plastic cups stacked in haphazard towers, and bartenders moving in sync with one another. Everything smells like citrus spirits and too many spilled J?gerbombs.

“Two cheeky Vimtos,” Naomi says without missing a beat.

The bartender nods and starts pouring. I tap my card against the reader, expecting that satisfying beep.

Nothing.

He glances at the machine, frowns. “Could you try chip and PIN?”

With a polite smile, I insert my card and slowly punch in my PIN.

Declined.

I freeze for half a second, heat blooming in my cheeks.

Naomi clocks it.

“Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten your pin,” she says with a grin, nudging me like it’s all a joke. Light. Casual.

“I haven’t,” I murmur. “It’s just being weird. I think I’ve got my other card somewhere.”

She doesn’t wait. Just taps her card with a mock sigh. “Next one’s yours.”

The machine chirps its approval and the drinks are ours.

I slip my phone from my bag as Naomi disappears toward the toilets and open my banking app, frowning as the login screen flashes up. I enter my details.

Error.

Incorrect username or password.

I try again. Slower this time. Same result. My throat tightens. The screen blurs slightly under the pulsing red light of the bar.

I find David’s name in my contacts and hit call.

The noise swells around me—glass clinking, someone shouting a lyric at the top of their lungs, the bartender slamming shots onto the counter. I press a finger to my free ear and slip toward the edge of the room, near a side wall where the crowd thins just enough to breathe.

He answers on the third ring, voice warm and low in my ear. “Hey, Ellie. Everything okay?”

“David, hey—sorry, I know it’s late. I just—something weird happened. I’m at the bar and my card just got declined.” I shift further into the shadowed alcove near the fire door.

There’s a pause, then his voice, smooth and steady. “Declined? That’s odd.”

“Yeah. And now I can’t log into the app either. Keeps saying my details are wrong, but I haven’t changed anything.”

He makes a thoughtful sound, the kind he always makes when he’s halfway through solving something.

“Ah, yeah. That’ll be the tech stuff. I was on the phone to the bank this morning—total nightmare.

They’re having issues with the app again.

System upgrades or maintenance, something boring like that. ”

I blink, watching a group of girls in glittery tops pose for a selfie near the toilets. “Right. I thought maybe?—”

“Ellie, come on. Everything’s fine. I checked it all earlier. Just one of those glitches. Happens all the time.”

I exhale slowly, a little of the tension leaving my shoulders. “Okay.”

“Don’t need to stress yourself out over something stupid like this. You’ve got enough on your plate.”

I nod, even though he can’t see me. The music swells again, a bass drop shaking the walls.

“I promise, everything’s fine babe. If it helps, maybe just uninstall the app for now? While they’re sorting the bugs out. It’s only going to keep stressing you out if you keep trying to log in.”

I chew on the inside of my cheek. “Yeah… maybe.”

“Do it for your own peace of mind, okay? I’ll keep an eye on everything from my end.”

My thumb hovers over the app. Still unsure. Still a little off-kilter.

“You trust me, don’t you?”

“Of course I do, David.”

“Then let me take care of it,” he says, voice soft again. Reassuring.

“Okay,” I murmur.

“I love you, Ellie. You know that, yeah?”

A beat catches in my throat. “I love you too.”

“Go have fun.”

The call ends with a soft click.

I stare at my phone a moment longer, the music from the bar washing back in. Lights flash. Laughter rises.

Naomi appears at my side, cheeks flushed from the heat, hair slightly mussed like she’s already had words with a broken hand dryer.

“You alright?” she asks, not loudly—but I hear it.

“Yeah,” I say, offering a quick smile. “Just cleared up the bank thing with David. Apparently it’s technical issues. App’s playing up.”

She nods slowly, not quite convinced, but not about to push. “That’s annoying. Everything sorted now?”

“Yeah. All good.” I take a long sip of my drink. Too sweet. Too strong. Just what I need.

We drift away from the bar, plastic cups in hand, weaving through the crush of people until we find a spot near the back wall—just far enough from the stage to breathe, but close enough to feel the energy ripple through the room.

Naomi’s already scanning the crowd, eyes bright. “Alright, then. Let’s find someone beautiful for me to flirt with before I forget how.”

I try to let the night pull me under. Let the music and the noise fill in the gaps. But it’s like my body knows something I haven’t said out loud.

He’s here. Somewhere in this building. Breathing the same air.

The thought hits like static in my blood.

I close my eyes and tip my head back, letting the thrum of the bass settle under my skin. Around me, the room is all movement—glasses clinking, someone laughing too loudly, strobe lights painting the ceiling. It should be enough to drown it all out.

But it isn’t.

I’m not thinking about the drink in my hand or the music filling the room. I’m thinking about a guy with wild hair and a voice that cracked something open in me once.

I shouldn’t care. I shouldn’t want to see him.

But I do.

It’s like the universe is whispering. Nudging me in some direction I can’t quite place.

And as Naomi leans in to tell me something about the guy from the queue who definitely winked at her, I already know—I’m not going to be able to look away when he steps on that stage.

Because a part of me is still listening for him.

And some foolish, buried part of me is already leaning in.