Rock My Heart (Luminescent Juliet #4) (23 page)

Epilogue

~April~

Two Months Later

I’m going to puke.
Vomit. Blow chunks.

I once thought I’d never be nervous going on stage
as long as it was with an instrument.

I was wrong.

Within hours, I’m supposed to play with Luminescent
Juliet. Two songs. “
Ink
My Heart” with some added
guitar acrobatics, then one of the songs from
my
upcoming album. Justin is going to sing it with me. This seemed
like a great idea to introduce me to their fans, but now the prospect of
getting on stage is terrifying me. Since the concert is at Pine Knob, an
outdoor venue outside of Detroit, Allie and Riley commandeered the tour bus
while the guys were doing pre-interviews before the show.

Riley scrunches my curled hair, messy it up. “Ugh. I
wish Chloe could have come. I suck at this.”

Setting down an eyeliner pencil, Allie tilts her
head, looking at me in the tall mirror set on the table booth. “I think she
looks good. You don’t like it, April?”
 

I don’t really care what I look like at this point,
keeping my lunch inside my stomach is my main goal, but I force myself to
inspect their work. “Um, my hair is a little big.” More like a lot, as in huge.
“And the makeup is a bit dark.” I don’t even wear this much eyeliner in an
entire year.

Riley scrunches my hair more. “In front of thousands
of people you have to be a little bigger than life.”

She just had to say thousands, didn’t she? “Okay,
yeah, then I guess it looks good.” I wanted to keep my look toned down in order
to showcase the music, but nerves are throwing that plan out the window. And
ironically, with my jeans, combat boots, black tank, wild hair, and dark
makeup, I’m a bit of a throwback to the nineties grunge look, and that grunge
music has always been my inspiration for song writing.
 

The front door of the bus creaks open and Peyton
walks in. “They’re on in about twenty minutes.” She glances at me and frowns.
“You’re looking a little pale, April.”

“Yeah, I feel pale.” I take a deep breath. “I think
I…need a few minutes,” I say before rushing toward the little bathroom beyond
the bunks.

“You okay?” Riley yells.

“Yeah, just need a minute,” I repeat.

Inside the tiny bathroom, I lean over and try to get
my nerves under control, but fear continues to eat at my gut. I can do this. I
don’t want to do this. I have to do this.

For all the Rachels of the world.

My album releases in two weeks. Seventy percent of
the proceeds—I wanted to go ninety but my dad talked me into seventy so I could
have some capital for future marketing—are going to three different suicide
prevention organizations. This album isn’t about me, even the songs, a mix of
sad and hopeful and resilient, are about all those lonely people caught in the
dark. Going on stage with Luminescent Juliet could be a huge springboard for
the album and more awareness for the cause.

I stand up and draw in air.

I’m doing this even if I end up puking all the way
up the stairs to the stage.

 
Though I
force myself out of the bathroom, I pause in the long aisle of the bus.

Peyton, Allie, and Riley’s conversation floats to me
from the front. They’re discussing the next three days when we’ll all be
staying in a swanky hotel in downtown Detroit. They sound carefree and excited,
and though I’m going to the hotel with Gabe too, anxiety rocks my gut.

I begin to speculate if my acute anxiety is just
about going on stage. Or if it’s about the huge step I’m about to take compared
to the three women up front who all have their futures perfectly figured out.

I watch as Peyton lifts her camera to take a picture
of Allie laughing.

Just last month, Peyton took a job for an up and
coming magazine in Detroit that promotes the city. She’ll be reporting on the
music scene, but other topics too, like new businesses. Though she always
imagined working for a musical journal, she is beyond excited to be part of the
movement to rebuild Detroit. And Sam is ecstatic about her job too. They’re
looking for a townhouse to rent together. Other than touring, he wants to stay
in Michigan. From what I gather, he’s pretty close to his twin brother, and
because of his brother’s issues, he makes time every month to go home and visit
him in the thumb of Michigan.
 

Allie puts her hand out as if to stop Peyton from
taking the picture and the overhead light catches the shine of the diamond on
her ring finger.

Yup
.
Allie has her life figured out too. This coming November her and Justin are
tying the knot. He proposed when the four of us went to St. Louis to catch
Luminescent’s fourth concert of the tour. Though they’re having a destination
wedding in Miami, they just bought a house not even five miles from the
university. More than having her tattoo shop and working on opening an art
studio, Allie doesn’t want to move away because of her son. And Justin seems
more than fine with that.

Riley steps in and wraps her arm around Allie’s
shoulders, smiling and gesturing for Peyton to take a picture.

This August, Riley is heading to L.A. Romeo will be
flying out to meet her during a four day break. They’ll be looking for an
apartment near Chapman University, which specializes in performance
degrees—including music. Riley always imagined going to school out of state and
since Romeo wants to continue working on the business end of things for the
band in L.A., this is her perfect opportunity.

The camera flashes.

But I’m not sure what’s happening with me. Other than
the album release, I have a few small gigs lined up through my dad, and that
might be it. Or if things go well, I could be touring as an opening act. But
everything is up in the air. And though Gabe and I spent as much time as
possible together before the tour, we’ve never discussed the future in depth
together. We’ve been too busy, him with practice and then touring, me with
writing and then recording. Now I’m about to take a big step into the unknown,
while just months ago, when I planned to be a counselor, I had everything
perfectly mapped out.

“April,” Riley yells down the hall before noticing
me. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good,” I say, tugging my guitar case off
a bunk and forcing a smile. “Let’s get going.”

We head out of the bus and toward the back of the
stage, passing other busses and rows of equipment semis. After Peyton shows her
pass, we go through a line of security to find the guys standing on the side of
the stage. A few feet from a crowd of backstage pass holders, Gabe leads the
rest of the band in a vocal warm up, probably since he doesn’t do
much
backup vocals. Gabe finally drops his hands and the
rest of the guys breathe freely again.

We wait behind the backstage fans, but Sam notices
us, giving us a quick wave. He then adjusts the strap of his bass and turns
toward the stage. They must be going on any second.

However, noticing us too, Gabe comes around the
crowd. His eyes roam over me. “You look like a ghost,” he says, his mouth
tight.

I swallow down a trillion nerves. “I’ll be okay.”

His arms come around me. “You know you don’t have to
do this,” he says against my massive hair. “You can just skip it and start with
a smaller venue.”

One hand on his back and the other holding my case,
I draw in a deep gulp of air, while also drawing in the strength his arms
provide. Almost immediately, the sensation of calm and safe flow through me,
and nearly all of my anxiety fades away. Home, just like Gabe felt, I feel it
in his arms too. I slowly realize no matter what happens, no matter where
this
path I’m on goes, I’ll always have this.

I step back, shaking my head. “I’m fine. I’m going
to do this. Plus, it’s the last item on the list.”

He stares at me, worry lining his mouth.

Their loud intro music sounds.

“Gabe!” Romeo yells from the stage stairs.

“Really,” I say, smiling and giving him a light push
toward the stage. “Go. I’ll see you in seven songs.”

He leans down and gives me a quick kiss. “For luck.”

And then he’s gone and the crowd is cheering.

Camera around her neck, Peyton goes around the front
of the stage to take pictures. After handing off my case to a stagehand, Riley,
Allie, and I join the backstage crowd on the side.

During thunderous applause, Luminescent Juliet start
the new song I heard at the Whiskey a Go
Go
, and then
their set is in full swing. I dance. I clap. I watch the band—mostly the
drummer. I let the music flow over me song after song
like
I haven’t allowed in years.

Too soon, Justin is announcing that they have a special
treat for the night. Riley pushes me toward the stage. My nerves bubble up, but
when the stagehand delivers my guitar, I pull the strap around me and grasp the
neck tight. And then I’m taking my first step up toward the stage. At the top
of the stairs, I meet Gabe’s gaze over a cymbal. His smile is wide and
reassuring. My smile back is just as wide.

Then I step out onto the stage and into the
spotlight.

Thanks so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed! Please consider
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Haus

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Snow,
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