1. Carter

Chapter one

Carter

(Rocktoberfest 11 months ago.)

Oh, hell no. The reflection in the mirror taunts me. I look like a guy in his early forties going through a midlife crisis, for shit's sake. Tugging on the hem of the band shirt, I try to read the logo. Do they make the script this hard to read on purpose? I eye the jagged letters, or at least I assume they're letters, before finally giving up. Doesn't matter. I probably wouldn't even know the band name even if I could read it.

My thick and wavy brown hair is a hot mess on top of my head. Sure, at first glance, I appear younger, but look carefully and you can see the random gray strands threaded here and there.

This isn't me.

I pull out my hair products so I can style this nest into something resembling my age—rather than a twenty-year-old punk who looks like he just rolled out of bed—when the bathroom door opens. My boyfriend, TJ, walks in. His red hair is tousled just so, and his outfit is similar to mine, only he looks comfortable in his clothes.

TJ gasps. "Oh my god. You look so fucking hot, babe. Damn, you need to dress like this every day."

I frown at TJ in the mirror before glancing back at my reflection. The band shirt clings to my chest in such a way that actually makes me look muscular for once, and the skinny jeans hug my thick thighs, but something about the whole ensemble looks… off. "I don't know, TJ. I don't look like me."

He smirks. "Right? You look even better." TJ places an arm around my waist, and I stiffen in his hold. It's been a while since TJ has given me one of his infamous backhanded compliments, and with it brings a slew of uncomfortable memories.

TJ and I have been dating on and off for the past five years. We've fallen into a routine of fighting and breaking up before one of us caves and contacts the other. The make-up sex that follows is usually fantastic. So are the first few weeks of us getting back together. But eventually, we start arguing before everything blows up again.

It's toxic, I know. But somehow, he always convinces me he's going to change.

This last time we got back together; TJ sat down with me and told me about his past. This was a first. I've been desperate to know him better, but he always kept me at arm's length. He opened up to me about his insecurities, and even informed me of my own flaws he found frustrating.

One of his biggest complaints, though, was my career. I work for a huge marketing firm in Southern California and rarely have time for myself, let alone a partner. Not when I've been working so damn hard to climb up the corporate ladder.

My biggest complaint? I wanted a stable relationship with a loving partner. I didn't want an open relationship. I wanted the stability of having someone to care for. I just wanted to spend more time together as a couple. It sounded like our wants were aligned.

This is my attempt at trying harder. Now that I feel secure in my job, I cut back on my hours and have made it a point to leave work at the same time every day—no matter what my workload looks like. We have dinner together every night and breakfast together before work. I even requested this vacation time and surprised TJ with sold-out tickets to Rocktoberfest just so he could see his favorite band, Arcade Lake.

"Come on, babe. We're going to be late. We gotta get on the road so we can get there early enough to set up our tent."

I freeze. "Tent?" What the hell?

TJ rolls his eyes. "Yeah. It's not like we can stay in this shitty hotel all trip. We have at least a four-hour drive ahead of us."

I wince. Fuck. This is what I get for not paying attention to our drive times. My boss called with an emergency with a client we can't afford to lose. So, I used some of that drive time to work while TJ happily blasted his music as he drove. A part of me wishes we spent the time talking, but TJ hates to talk on trips. Something about boring conversations ruining the road trip ambiance.

"Plus," he continues. "It's not like we can crawl into one of the band's tour vans. Unless…you want to be really adventurous?" He places his hand on my chest before sliding down to the bulge in my jeans. After a suggestive squeeze, he winks and walks back out of the room.

TJ might have been joking, but the comment burrows into my skin like a leech that won't let go. I don't share, ever . One of my closest friends is poly, and it works for them, but I'm a jealous guy. I want to be the only one spoiling my partner. I've always made sure my stance on that topic is very clear.

An unsettled, uncomfortable feeling churns in the pit of my stomach, but I try to shake it off. I won't let one comment ruin our night.

The drive to Black Rock City isn't as bad as I thought, but I'm shocked by the number of people setting up tents all around us.

The air is filled with laughter and chatter, and the sun's blazing rays make it feel more like a sweltering hundred degrees than a mere eighty-five. Plumes of weed or cigarette smoke drift by every so often, and I'm suddenly kicking myself for not asking questions about where we'd sleep.

That uncomfortable feeling continues to grow inside of me. TJ knows I hate camping because of my issues with my back, but not once did he mention we'd be staying outside. If I'd known, I would have preferred to bring a cot. Still, I bite back my remark and finish setting up our tent. I'm determined to not fight on this trip.

At one point, a cute blond guy approaches TJ. "Hey," he says with a sweet blush on his cheeks. The kid looks like he might be in college. He toes the line between looking sweet and sassy. Figuring the kid needed help with his tent or something, I continue to unpack while they chat.

"Are you TJ?"

A knowing smirk crosses TJ's lips. "Well, now. Aren't you gorgeous? And who are you?"

The blond's blush deepens before he bites his lip. "It's me, Kyler."

TJ's eyes drop and I don't miss the sultry look my boyfriend gives Kyler. TJ places his hand on the small of Kyler's back and guides him several feet away. I sigh. I always knew there was a chance I'd run into one of TJ's hookups, but seeing him flirt right in front of me solidifies the strange feeling from earlier. I just hope he'll let the kid down easy and tell him he's off the market.

When I finally finish getting everything situated, I glance around, only to notice TJ and Kyler are nowhere in sight. My phone vibrates just as I pull it out. I'm expecting it to be a text from my boyfriend, but instead, it's an instant messenger notification.

ZeeShredz: Help! I'm surrounded by a bunch of middle-aged moms who want to eat me alive.

My lips twitch as I fight a smile. Plopping myself on the air mattress in front of me, I message Zee back.

Carter32: Well, that's just rude. Why did you even bring up their ages? Aren't you middle-aged too?

ZeeShredz: *Gasp* You take that back! I'm thirty-six. Hardly over the hill.

ZeeShredz is one of my closest friends. But let's ignore the tiny, insignificant fact that we've never actually met in person.

Yet.

We started chatting online a few years ago when my cousin started a GoFundMe Campaign to turn his manga, Chibicos, into an anime. The amount of attention and support my cousin got blew up fast, and Zee was one of his biggest supporters.

Zee donated a good chunk of change, explaining that not only was he a huge fan, but how his story touched Zee's heart. Now that Zee was in a better place financially, he wanted to help another person the way someone helped him. Zee insisted on no real names and no strings attached.

To this day, my cousin and I have never met the man who helped launch his career, but in the process, I've gained a best friend. Our conversations started off focusing on Chibicos and eventually veered off course to music, hobbies, family drama, and life.

Carter32: You? Surrounded by women? Sounds like a normal day.

Zee might have been able to keep his name out of our conversations, but I still knew the guy. He works in the music industry and absolutely loves it. Sometimes, he has trouble sleeping, and when his mind is too busy, his favorite pastime is writing lyrics in his notebook. He has a love for classic rock, is quite comical, and is extremely smart. Zee also has a secret love for anime and manga. Hence how we met.

And of course, I can't forget that he's a ladies' man. He's constantly telling me about the glamorous dates he has with movie stars and supermodels.

ZeeShredz: Haha. Not like this. The way some of these women are eyeing the musicians around us, it's as if all they see are dollar signs. A few of them even admitted to hating rock music.

Carter32: Oh, your poor heart. How will you ever survive?

ZeeShredz: You tease me, but what if someone told you they didn't like progressive metal?

I grin and shake my head.

Carter32: I'm pretty sure I don't like progressive metal. Not if it's all that screaming crap everyone listens to.

After a long pause, the three dots appear on my screen, showing me that Zee is typing. They disappear. They reappear. Disappear. Oh shit. I chuckle. I've rendered Zee speechless.

ZeeShredz: …

Barking out a laugh, I sit up on the mattress and message him back an angel emoji.

After a few minutes of silence, I get up and text TJ, asking where he is.

TJ: Ah, jeez. Sorry, babe. Thought I told you. Come meet us by the main stage. Rumor has it Arcade Lake might sneak in a performance somewhere today. Kyler and I are trying to find out any info.

Right, because I know where the main stage is.

Sighing, I pull up the map that was emailed to us with our tickets and try to zoom in. Finally, I give up and decide to just ask someone once I get closer to the music area. I make my way through the crowd with ease, but the longer I walk around, the denser the crowd gets. Today is the first day of the music festival and is supposedly the most laid-back. I can't even imagine what it will be like by the time the headliners perform on Saturday night.

At one point, I end up by the merch area and ask one of the guys behind the table where the main stage is. He points in the opposite direction. With a bit of annoyance, I make my way through the crowd again. Whoever decided to plan an outdoor music festival in the middle of the desert is just plain cruel.

Carter: I'm by the music area. Which stage is the main stage?

TJ: God, babe. That was over thirty minutes ago. I thought you weren't coming. We're by the merch now.

I'm half tempted to throw my phone on the ground and stomp on it. Too pissed off and hurt, I don't bother replying. Instead, I stand still for a moment, wondering if I should just head back to the tent. Am I overreacting? The point was to spend time with TJ, but he makes it really fucking difficult when he ditches me.

The sound of an electric guitar strumming fills the air as the crowd erupts in cheers. Several girls squeal and take off toward the stage, leaving a clear path to the food trucks up ahead. Empty benches and tables are scattered in various places and call to me like a beacon.

"Fuck it," I mumble to myself. "I deserve a gyro."

"That's funny. I was just thinking the same thing."

Great. Someone is here to witness me talking to myself. Is it too late to blame it on the desert heat?

A guy in a loose white shirt stands next to me. The majority of his shirt is cut on the sides, showing off a well-sculpted body and a torso lined with tattoos. Unable to stop myself, my gaze travels the tall, lean length of his body, up to his perfectly styled, medium golden-brown hair, and back down to his plush lips that are curled into a sensual smirk.

I'm completely transfixed by his good looks. The man doesn't scream rock star, no. He oozes rock god, with all those tats and the coal lining his striking brown eyes.

I clear my throat. "I'm sorry. What was that?" I have no idea what he even said to me.

He chuckles, a low rumbling sound that causes my toes to curl. "You know what?" He leans in close. "I don't even remember."

The guy's obvious flirting, while flattering, is like a cold bucket of water. TJ is somewhere waiting for me. He might not have any issues flirting, but that's not me. Just as his stomach growls loudly, I take a step back, putting some extra distance between us.

I offer him a small grin. "Right. I think it had something to do with food."

"Ah, yes. I believe you said you deserve a gyro. Shall we?" He waves a hand toward the truck serving Greek food. "I gotta take advantage of the low crowds while I can."

We make our way to the food truck. Instinctively, I hover my hand over the small of his back, but catch myself before making contact. "You go first. You need to eat."

He arches a brow my way before stepping in front of me. There are only two people ahead of us in line. He tips his head back and points toward the stage. "Not a fan of Monifex?"

"Mony what? Is that the band?"

He chuckles again, giving me a charming smile. "Monifex. Newer band. Metalcore."

I shake my head. "Fuck. How many subgenres of metal are there? Can you tell me what the hell progressive metal is?"

"Oh shit. You're the second person today to not know what it means." He laughs, but it's to himself, almost as if he's lost in thought. "It's a fusion of metal and progressive rock. We tend to focus on heavy technical songs with complex guitar rifts. The genre is actually pretty broad because of the experimental themes."

This time, I arch a brow. "We?" Of course, the guy is in a band.

He steps forward in line before turning back to me. His eyes briefly drop to my shirt. "My band. We consider ourselves a combination of Progressive Metalcore and Southern Metal."

"Yeah, you might as well be speaking another language."

His eyes drop to my shirt again, and he smirks.

I tug at the hem of the band shirt, feeling like a fraud. Something about the flirty yet warm demeanor of this guy has me confessing the truth. "Damn it. I feel so out of place here. I don't really get the harder aggressive music. The only reason I'm here is to surprise my boyfriend with tickets to see his favorite band. I'm more of a classic rock type of guy. Give me Molly Hatchet or Billy Idol, please."

To my shock, he doesn't roll his eyes or look disgusted. His smile just grows wider. "Can't go wrong with the classics."

I nod, laughing softly. "Hell, I don't even know what this shirt says. Metal script is so hard for me to read. It might as well say ‘worship the devil,' for all I know."

"See this letter here?" He traces a finger just above the jagged script. His nails are chipped with dark purple polish. He doesn't touch me, but he might as well with the way my nipples pebble under his gaze.

With a pounding heart, I force myself to swallow.

"It's an ‘A', for Arcade Lake." His striking brown eyes study me, that charming smirk still in place. We're so close that the gold and green flecks are visible in the sunlight.

"Next," the man from the food truck calls out, startling us apart.

As soon as the rock star steps away and orders his food, I let out a deep breath. Of course, my shirt says Arcade Lake. TJ is obsessed with the band. Speaking of TJ, I check my phone, but don't see any missed text messages, so I call him instead.

Straight to voicemail. His phone was fully charged when we got out of the car, so I hope it's just spotty service, and not TJ ignoring me.

I run a frustrated hand through my hair before checking my messenger app. Zee recommended a list of progressive metal bands I need to listen to. I'm tempted to show the rock star in front of me to see if he agrees with the list.

ZeeShredz: I'm taking your advice. I'm trying something new today.

Carter32: Holy shit, are you going to perform one of the songs you've written?

ZeeShredz: I'm working my way up to it. Gonna perform, but it's nothing I've written. Still not sure anyone wants to hear my own crap.

I frown, typing furiously.

Carter32: DON'T say that. Your lyrics are brilliant and meaningful.

I glance up from my screen when it's my turn to order. The handsome rock star is typing away on his phone, a sweet smile on his face as he waits for his food. Probably talking with a lover or a significant other.

After I order my gyro, I stand off to the side and wait.

ZeeShredz: Thanks, Carter. You always know how to make me feel better.

A warmth spreads through my chest. Everything is so easy with Zee. Our relationship might only be online, but he lets me take care of him, and in return, it makes me feel appreciated. Important.

Carter32: I'm serious, Zee. Hopefully, someday I'll get to hear your music.

ZeeShredz: I'd like that. Maybe I can perform for you?

My heart pounds as I read and reread that text. Did he mean it? Anytime we even hinted at finally meeting up, one of us shied away. But now, I want to meet Zee.

Carter32: Of course. When?

ZeeShredz: I have a gig tonight, but I'm saving our song for a bigger crowd.

Our song . God, why did that sound romantic? Did he really write me a song?

ZeeShredz: Are you busy Saturday? I know it's short notice, but I can fly you and a friend out to see me perform.

Fly us out? Holy shit. Is Zee loaded? Fuck, of course he is. Just the other day, he returned from a trip to South Tavia. Not only are the islands a hot destination spot, it's an expensive place, too. Zee mentioned that one of his brothers was struggling with anxiety and PTSD, so they needed to get away for a few weeks. Not days. Weeks. And let's not forget that he donated a lot of money to my cousin's campaign a few years back. Regardless, we never talked about finances. To me, he's just Zee. Money was irrelevant.

Reality hits me when I hear another strum of guitars from a different stage. Fuck. TJ's favorite band plays on Saturday.

Carter32: I'm so sorry. I can't. I'm out of town through Monday.

ZeeShredz: Oh.

Carter32: But don't let that stop you. Play the song on Saturday. Please. The world deserves to hear your words.

ZeeShredz: We'll see.

Carter32: Please, Zee. Play our song. For me. On Saturday.

ZeeShredz: Fine. For you.

That makes me smile.

Carter32: And don't forget to eat and hydrate before your performance. Good luck tonight.

I pocket my phone and walk back up to the window as they call out my order. The handsome man I was chatting with is standing a few feet away. He balls up his wrapper, already done with his gyro. Disappointment momentarily fills me.

Probably wise I don't sit with the flirty rockstar. I pick an empty table and have a seat. Just as I'm lifting the gyro wrap to my lips, a shadow falls over me. I take a bite and glance up.

"Look, it was really nice chatting with you. See that tent over there?" He points to a blue tent back the way we came. "I'm performing in there in about fifteen minutes. It's a private show."

I finish chewing, take a sip from my soda, and then smile up at him. "That's amazing. What do you play?"

His brown eyes sparkle, and he slides a bright pink wristband across the table. "Come watch me perform and find out."

"Will I need earplugs from all the screaming?" I joke.

His grin grows wider, and he laughs. "No screaming. Promise. I hope to see you there." And with that, he spins around and walks off.

I finish my food and check my phone one last time. No new messages. Curiosity gets the best of me and I check Instagram . I see TJ has a new story posted, so I click on it.

" Hey guys ," TJ says into the camera as he walks. " It's day one of Rocktoberfest. There's a huge rumor floating around that Arcade Lake might sneak onstage before their big headlining performance on Saturday. It's been months since any of us have seen them perform together, and most fans are curious. Why have they been so secretive? If you have any details about today's performance, message me or my new friend, Kyler ."

Kyler pops into the screen, and TJ throws an arm around him. They look happy. It might all be a show for the camera, but when was the last time TJ—or anyone else, for that matter—looked at me like that? My thoughts flicker to the handsome stranger.

At some point, I gotta face the facts. TJ and I don't belong together.

Before I can chicken out, I send TJ a text.

Carter: I think we need to talk.

A minute later, my phone rings. I roll my eyes. Now he calls?

"Hello?" I say into the phone.

There's an audible sigh. "We're breaking up, aren't we?" He doesn't sound surprised.

"Yeah. I think we are." That feels strange to admit knowing he's somewhere nearby.

"Is it because I took off with Kyler?"

"Not exactly. But I just saw your stories on Instagram. You looked happy. When was the last time you were happy with me?" Fuck, I can't believe we are doing this over the phone.

"I'm sorry, Carter."

I nod, noticing he didn't answer the question. "Me too."

"What about our tent?"

"Damn it, TJ. I'm not going to kick you out. We can still share a tent and enjoy watching your band together. We're both adults."

There's a long pause before TJ whispers into the phone. "This might sound insensitive, but do you mind if I stay with Kyler? He's really cute."

My mouth drops open. But what's even more shocking is that I'm not jealous. Fuck, why am I not jealous? "Sure," I reply, still shocked I'm not more torn up about this.

"Damn it, that's totally fucked up. Nevermind. I'll be back tonight."

"No, it's fine," I say quickly. "You know what? Have fun." I try to pour as much sincerity into my tone.

"Can we still go see Arcade Lake together on Saturday? You got me the tickets, after all."

I chuckle. "Yeah, I'd like that. Maybe I can finally see why you're so damn obsessed with them." I check the time on my phone. "I'm actually going to check out one of the musicians now. Maybe we can meet up for dinner?"

"All right. Talk to you soon. And Carter? Thanks." TJ ends the call. What the hell was he thanking me for? Breaking up with him? Letting him be with Kyler? Not freaking out? God, that was weird, but that uncomfortable feeling I had earlier? It's gone. I feel lighter. This breakup with TJ feels different from all the rest. We've never ended things without a big argument before, but I have a feeling this will be the final time.

I check my phone again and realize that the private show is going to start any minute. Throwing away my trash, I hustle over to the blue tent and flash the security guard my wristband.

A group of people of various ages gather around the small makeshift stage. The tent is small, and I'm left wondering whether the rock star is well-known. Maybe he couldn't score one of the side stages? Then again, he did call it a private show.

Someone walks on stage and makes their way to the mic. It's the handsome rock star, and he's holding an acoustic guitar. Several people whisper, and there's a strange buzz of excitement that seems to fill the tent as people hush around me.

The rock star glances around as if searching for someone. His gaze lands on me and he seems to light up, his cocky smirk being replaced by a genuine smile. I gasp, practically being knocked to my feet by that gaze. Fuck. If I thought he was gorgeous before, it's nothing compared to this smile.

My returning grin takes over my face.

"Hey guys," he says into the mic. "How's everyone enjoying Rocktoberfest so far?" The crowd around me cheers.

As if his performing mask slides back in place, he looks around the room with a panty-dropping smile. "My name's Zayden, and most of you know me as the lead guitarist from Arcade Lake."

The crowd cheers louder, and some of them stomp their feet. Zayden's eyes twinkle as they land on me, and my mouth falls open. "It seems as if some of my small rifts during sound check have grown in popularity, and well, I'm in front of you today wanting to show off my passion for music. How do you guys feel about me playing acoustic and singing some of our Arcade Lake songs?"

A loud whoop comes from the back.

Zayden points. "Ah, there he is. Emery, come up here."

The crowd goes wild. I glance behind me and see a gorgeous Asian man weaving his way through the crowd. As soon as Emery is by Zayden's side, the two embrace. "Emery here is the lead singer of Arcade Lake." Zayden is still smiling at me, and I get the impression that everyone here knows exactly who Emery is, and Zayden did the intro for my benefit.

Emery saunters up to the mic. "Rocktoberfest," he purrs. "We have a special treat for you today. Zayden and I decided to switch things up. Instead of vocals, I'm handing the lead to my boy, Zayden. Meanwhile, I'm gonna rock the fucking drums."

People in the audience have already started recording, and murmurs of excitement go up all around us. I make a mental note to look up videos of what Zayden usually does in the band.

Emery walks to the middle of the stage and sits in front of the drums while Zayden strums his guitar strings.

Then, he starts singing.

Zayden's voice is captivating; soft, emotional, and raw. The first song is one he sings with his eyes closed, telling us a tragic tale through haunting lyrics sung in his seductive, powerful timbre.

Our secrets are a heavy weight

Heavy on my heart

Heavy on my soul

Pulling us down into an ocean of lies

Stuck in the aftermath

Dreaming but never able to escape

Wanting to stay awake

Zayden's fourth song is a happier one, but no less powerful. It's a more upbeat number that causes the crowd gathered around us to start swaying, smiles on their faces as they sing along. I'm surprised when I recognize some of the lyrics, impressed they're the same metal songs that TJ played in the car on the way here. But unlike earlier, I'm captivated by the words and Zayden's voice. The longer he sings, the more entranced I become.

Zayden is all seductive smirks, charming winks, and pure talent as he makes love to the mic. He's dangerous, addictive, and a little wild. Be still my heart. If I'm not careful, I could easily be his next prey. And fuck me, I'm tempted.

Emery stands and everyone starts chanting for more. Zayden chuckles into the mic. "Don't worry, Rocktoberfest. We have time for one more. But first, give me a minute." He hands the mic to Emery.

An intense and passionate energy emanates from the two musicians. Something feral and palpable.

"Our poor guitarist isn't used to all this singing," he chuckles again. "Let's give him a minute to sip some of his tea. In the meantime, tell me how much you're loving Zayden's voice."

Another cheer goes up, and I clap wildly. The sound of his voice still echoes in my head and it feels like the music is vibrating in my veins. Is this what it's like to get high off the music? I've never felt this way just listening to someone sing before. Then again, I've never been this close to someone as they performed. The tent is small and intimate, and I'm mere feet from the stage.

A sudden desperate yearning to hear Zayden sing something other than an Arcade Lake song overtakes me. Who wrote these lyrics? Did Zayden? Emery? Someone else from the band?

My thoughts briefly go to Zee. Does he get this type of passion from singing? Before I can stop myself, I pull out my phone and tap on my messenger app.

Carter32: You should sing our song today.

ZeeShredz: Yeah?

Carter32: Forget Saturday. Sing it today. Pretend I'm there in the crowd and show everyone what those lyrics mean to you.

Zayden walks back on stage. He studies the screen on his phone before taking another sip from his paper cup. Emery hands the mic back, and the two musicians whisper to each other for a moment. Emery nods and gives Zayden a brilliant smile.

Zayden jumps in place and shakes out his hands as if nervous.

With a deep breath, Zayden brings the mic back up to his lips. "How do you guys feel about a piece that's near and dear to my heart?"

I clap and cheer with the crowd, just as eager for more as the rest of them.

"This song is something I wrote for a special someone." He places the mic on the stand and adjusts it so he can sing while he sits on a stool. "This song is called Oceans Apart."

Something niggles in the back of my mind when he says the title, but it's quickly brushed away at the sound of his voice.

There's something here between us

Secrets and whispers between each word

Can you feel it?

With each message, it's like a confession,

And yet, you don't pull away

Instead, our hearts still touch

Can you feel it?

Zayden's eyes meet mine and he holds my stare as he strums his guitar. His brown gaze is intense, his sole focus is on me… almost as if he's singing to me. A chill runs down my spine.

I almost chuckle at the thought. Isn't that what good performers do, make you feel like they're singing to you and you alone?

With each truth I reveal, it's as if I'm pulling you closer to me.

Can you sense it?

Oceans apart and dreams away

We've never met, yet, somehow you know me

I freeze, heart pounding. Those lyrics. I know those lyrics. Zee sent them to me when he was in South Tavia. He said it felt like we were oceans apart and dreams away. For some reason, I thought he was just talking about the distance between us. But this is so much more.

He closes his eyes and pours himself into the rest of the song.

By sharing my confessions, I'm giving you a piece of me

The only piece of me

Can you see my heart?

Oceans apart and dreams away

We've never met, yet, somehow you know me

The world might think they own me

So desperate for my attention

Ironic, since all my attention is on you

I don't know what you look like

Yet, I feel you

I don't know what you sound like

Yet, I hear you

Oceans apart, dreams away

We've never met,

Yet, somehow I know you

My heart is still racing wildly in my chest. I've never felt more exposed, more vulnerable in my life.

Holy shit.

Zayden is Zee. My Zee.

As the crowd goes crazy around me, cheering and whistling, it's all I can do not to collapse in shock. With wobbly legs, I rush out of the tent as quickly as possible. And as I flee, I don't miss the confused look on Zayden's face.