9. Chapter Nine

Chapter Nine

C andy

My hands are shaking so badly I can barely grip the neck of my guitar. The dressing room of this tiny Pittsburgh venue feels more like a cell, the walls closing in with each ragged breath I take.

"I can't do this," I whisper, my voice cracking. "What if they hate my new songs? What if they've all given up on me? What if I'm nothing without the glitter and the tiny, sparkly outfits and the five-piece backup band?"

Warm, strong hands close over mine, stopping their trembling. I look up into Courage's piercing blue eyes, finding an anchor in their steady gaze.

"Candy." His thumbs brush softly over my knuckles. "You've got this. Your songs are amazing, and your fans? They adore you. They're out there right now, waiting for you to blow them away. Listen. They're chanting your name."

Taking a shuddering breath, I try to let his words sink in. "But what if the new me isn't good enough? What if I've lost my touch, my spark?"

He shakes his head, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth, his upper fangs glinting in the low light. "Impossible. I've seen you pour your heart and soul into these songs. I've heard the raw emotion, the pure talent that shines through every note. Trust me, Candy. Trust yourself."

There's something in his eyes, a flicker of an emotion I can't quite name. For a moment, I think he might say more, might cross that invisible line we've been dancing around for weeks. But instead, he simply squeezes my hands once more and steps back.

"You're going to be incredible out there. I know it in my bones."

I nod, swallowing hard past the lump in my throat. "Thank you, Courage. Your support means a lot."

He inclines his head, that small smile still in place. "Anytime, rock star. Now go show them what Candy Wood is made of."

With a final deep breath, I step onto the stage, the glare of the spotlights momentarily blinding. The crowd cheers, a wall of sound that threatens to knock me backward. But as my eyes adjust, as I take in the sea of smiling faces, the handmade signs, and the t-shirts with my face and trademark pink hair plastered across them, something settles in my chest.

These are my people. They've stuck by me through thick and thin, through the ups and downs of a career that's been anything but easy. And tonight? Tonight, I'm going to give them everything I've got.

I step up to the mic, my fingers finding the strings of my guitar like old friends. "What's up, Pittsburgh?" I call out, grinning as the crowd roars in response. "I've got some new tunes for you as well as some old ones I've re-tooled just for this tour. Hang on to your hats. This is a side of Candy Wood you haven't heard before. These songs are straight from my heart to yours. You ready?"

Another cheer, louder this time. I close my eyes for a moment, letting the energy of the room flow through me. And then, with a deep breath and a silent prayer, I play.

The first few notes are shaky, my nerves getting the best of me. But as the melody takes shape, as the lyrics pour out of me like a confession, something shifts. The fear, the doubt, the constant second-guessing… it all falls away, leaving only the music and the pure, unadulterated joy of creation.

I lose myself in the songs, in the stories I'm telling. Tales of heartbreak and hope, of loss and redemption. Stories of a woman trying to find her way in a world that's always been quick to judge, to dismiss, to take advantage, to write her off.

But I'm not that woman anymore. With each chord, each soaring chorus, I feel new strength taking root in my bones. A new sense of purpose, of possibility.

As I launch into the final song, a ballad I wrote in the depths of my darkest days, I pour every ounce of myself into the performance. My voice cracks with emotion, my fingers tremble on the strings, but I don't hold back. I let it all out, laid bare and vulnerable.

When the last note fades away, the silence is thick, charged. For a moment, I'm terrified I've gone too far, exposed too much.

Then, the crowd erupts. The applause is thunderous, the cheers so loud the stage rumbles beneath my feet. I blink back tears, my heart so full it feels like it might burst.

I chance a glance at Courage in the wings, and the look on his face steals my breath. Pride, awe, and something deeper, something that causes a starburst of warmth to bloom in my chest.

"Thank you," I mouth, wanting to say so much more.

As I take my final bow, the stage lights glinting off the tears on my cheeks, a sense of peace settles over me. Knowing that no matter what comes next, no matter what battles I have to fight or demons I have to face, I can conquer them. Not only did I get through this concert in one piece, but I told Vince to go to hell. These are things I doubted I could do, but I triumphed.

I exit the stage to a chorus of cheers, my heart lighter than it's been in years. Courage is waiting for me, his arms already open.

I fall into his embrace, breathing in the scent of pine and musk. "Was it okay?" I mumble into his chest, suddenly shy.

His rumble of laughter vibrates through me, warm and deep. "Okay? Candy, you were incredible. You slayed them. Owned them. I've never seen anything like it."

I tilt my head back to look at him, my smile wobbly but genuine. "Yeah?"

"Hell yeah." He presses a kiss to my forehead, then springs a step back as he remembers he's my bodyguard and I'm his charge. "You're a fucking rockstar , Candy Wood. In every sense of the word."

I consider stretching up on my toes to capture his mouth in a kiss, but push that idea to the farthest recesses of my mind as I murmur, "I couldn't have done it without you."

"Bullshit." He steps away again. "That was all you, Candy. I'm just the lucky bastard who gets a front-row seat to your brilliance."

Laughing, I swat at his chest. "Flatterer. You just want in my pants."

His eyes flair wide in shock, then his grin turns wicked, his eyes flashing with heat. "Uh…" is his answer, but he doesn't deny it, and by the look in his eyes, he's imagining every filthy thing he'd like to do to me.

He straightens and looks around as though he's suddenly remembering we're in public.

"Do you need to sign autographs or something?" He's all business. "Or can I get you out of here before you're mobbed by your fans?"