Epilogue

EPILOGUE

S ix months passed. Mia's debut album hit number three on the charts in the USA, while it hit number one in her native Spain, helped by two Spanish-language singles and a feature on a popular flamenco musician's album one month before the release. When the album hit the charts, her family opened bottles of wine to celebrate, only to drop one of them on the kitchen floor when Mia came bounding through the front door with Harper in tow, about to get some use out of her newly-learned Spanish.

A world tour was planned, kicking off with Mia headlining the Greenpeace stage at that year's Glastonbury Music Festival in the UK. Now, she was sitting in a dressing room running through vocal warmups with half an hour to go until her set. To tell the truth, she was terrified. Sitting in an ornate but surprisingly comfortable outfit, she ran through her scales until her voice was prepared for the stage. She had never performed for this many people before, and it would be the largest audience of the tour. Now, more than ever, she needed that mantra her grandmother had given her.

Your words are your weapon. Your words are your weapon. Your words are ? —

"Hello, sweetheart, anybody home?" yelled an enthusiastic Harper through the door. Rolling her eyes, Mia stood and opened the door to let her in. Harper's shoes were caked in mud and she was flushed from walking.

"Whose idea was it to host a music festival in a goddamned field , there's nothing but grass and mud for miles around and my boots are in shit. We've only been here for two days!" Harper shed her windbreaker and left it in the corner of the room.

"Baby, they don't exactly have deserts to hold festivals like in the US," Mia said as Harper snaked her arms around her waist. "You've come to England and not expected mud, that's like going to the Arctic and not expecting ice. Are you even listening to me?"

Harper was not listening, that was clear. She was taking in the details of Mia's costume, checking her out in a way that felt more than thorough. A hungry smile played on her lips.

"You know I love it when you call me baby," Harper crooned, pulling Mia close and pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"There's so many people out there, the energy is incredible," Mia said, smiling as Harper held her.

"It is. You're gonna kill it out there, I know you are."

"Thank you, baby."

Harper hummed contently at that before swooping down to kiss Mia on the lips. Mia felt like the luckiest woman in the world. Here she was, about to perform the biggest show of her life, and the only problem she had was her handsy girlfriend yelling about mud. Life was good.

The kiss deepened, and Harper walked forward, walking Mia back towards a makeup mirror with a counter. Mia sat up on the counter while Harper slotted herself between Mia's legs, taking the opportunity to grab Mia's waist. Mia groaned into her mouth, Harper's body flush to hers in a way that turned her on terribly. After months of having very little alone time, who could really blame them for being this eager?

She wrapped her legs around Harper's waist, making desperate, quiet noises against her. Harper laughed cruelly, taking Mia's chin in one of her hands.

"You getting antsy, sweetheart? It'll have to be quick if you really want it, you've gotta be side stage in about twenty-five minutes."

Mia nodded, looking up at Harper in a way she knew would drive her crazy when she said,

"I'm sure. You want to fuck me right here, yeah? Want me to look all fucked-out when I go on stage, so they know who was back here?"

Harper groaned and mouthed at Mia's neck, sucking and licking in a way that wasn't going to leave any marks but felt incredible, her hands wandering down to squeeze at Mia's thighs. Slowly, Harper made her way down Mia's chest, mouthing at her breasts, pulling them out of her shirt so she could tease them with her tongue until Mia started bucking her hips and begging because she knew Harper ate that right up.

"Te suplico, mi corazón, baby, please, I need your mouth on me, fuck ? — "

Harper had come up to kiss her, open-mouthed and sloppy as she worked her hands up Mia's legs, hiking her skirt up and snaking a hand between her thighs. Mia was pliant, widening her legs and groaning as Harper felt her up through her lace panties. She was on fire. She was in heaven.

"You're gonna wear these out on stage?"

Mia nodded, her breathing growing ragged as Harper teased her. She was a little mean, yes, and Mia loved it. She nodded again, grinding against Harper's hand.

"I'm gonna be thinking about your head between my legs the entire time, Harper. I'm all yours." It seemed like that was the final straw for Harper. She dropped to her knees and, pulling Mia's panties aside, began lapping into her hot wetness like she was her last meal on death row, and Mia couldn't help but feel smug about it. Using her hands to push Harper's braids out of her face, Mia bucked her hips involuntarily and groaned.

She was trying to be quiet, she really was, but when Harper took an opportunity to slowly circle her tongue around Mia's clit, she couldn't help but let out a moan. Things only got worse from there, with Harper taking every opportunity to coax more noise out of Mia. She was unbearably turned on, with Harper's enthusiasm spurring her on and the extra risk of being overheard giving her an adrenaline boost.

Eventually, after a particularly talented twist of the tongue on Harper's part, a roadie knocked at the door and they both froze. Harper, emerging from beneath the layers of Mia's skirt asked, "Who is it?"

"Sorry, Miss Nightingale, the crew heard yelling and thought something was wrong. Is everything alright?"

"Yes, everything is alright, thank you for checking in, I'm assisting Miss Cortés with her... vocal warmups."

Mia stifled a laugh, and Harper moved one of her hands so she could circle Mia's clit, slick with spit, with her thumb. Mia dropped her head onto Harper's shoulder, breath hitching, and she continued.

"It's a serious matter, you understand, and she would appreciate it if the crew avoided this area for another while. I assure you she will be out for her ten-minute call, it's just that making noises in a room on your own can be embarrassing so she invited me to join her, but she'd still rather not be overheard."

A moment passed.

"Understood, Ma'am, we'll see you two side stage."

Harper waited for a while, teasing Mia until she was sure the crew member had left, before saying, "You're gonna have to be a lot quieter that that, sweetheart, come here."

They kissed languidly as Harper pushed her fingers deeply into Mia, groaning quietly into each other's mouths. Mia would never get tired of being this close to Harper. As her fingers continued to fuck her through motions of deeply, slowly, fast, and hard, she felt her body tense. Mia's hands grabbing at Harper once more. "You're making me cum already," she whined before letting out a deep exhale and cumming intensly. Tightening around Harper's fingers. She could do it all day with her.

When she had finished, Harper kissed her sweetly and helped her to pull her outfit back together, hugging her tightly when the time came to leave.

Harper always said it first.

"I love you, I'm so proud of you."

Mia always said it back.

"I love you too. Thank you for being here."

They left the dressing room looking flushed but not too suspicious, making their way up the stairs to the side of the stage. The band were there, with Stefan and Taylor having their traditional pre-show good-luck kiss and Ricky doing his pre-show ritual of pretending to barf at them kissing. The four of them had formed a little unit, attracting a fanbase that had assembled en-masse for the festival. This was their first time playing anywhere in the UK, and it was at the country's biggest music festival.

Harper, standing a few feet away from the four as they wished each other luck, felt like the luckiest woman on the planet. She had managed to meet the person she was convinced was the great love of her life, and she had not only returned those feelings but she had also found a way of slotting her into a globe-trotting world tour so she never had to miss a moment. Their partnership was one of equals, and in that way they were incredibly lucky.

Mia turned to Harper before she walked on stage. The boys always went on first, and they got a big cheer, but they always played a little musical overture before Mia went out, to build up anticipation. So, the two of them had developed a little ritual of their own own—resting their foreheads against each other, they would take five deep breaths. This would give Mia enough time to say her mantra, while also steeling Harper for the roar of the crowd.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Five.

They straightened up, looking deeply into each other's eyes.

"Best of luck," Harper yelled over the noise.

"I don't need luck!" replied Mia, laughing before turning around and making her way onto the stage. The crowd roared for her, clapping and cheering, but when she raised her hands and brought them down again, the entire crowd went quiet. It was like magic. She looked around at the band, and side stage at Harper, and knew she was ready to start. She knew this was truly the life she had always dreamed of.