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builtbybrokenbells · 8 months

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Gold Dust Woman | viii

Y/n quickly learns that touring with the brothers she is so emotionally intertwined with is not all that it’s cracked up to be.

Read part seven here

Listen while reading: Money for Nothing - Dire Straits, Voodoo Child (slight return) - Jimi Hendrix, Pride and Joy - Stevie Ray Vaughan

Pairing: sam kiszka x f!reader, jake kiszka x f!reader

Word Count: 12k

Warnings: drinking, swearing, smoking, arguing, jealousy/intentional jealousy, insecurity, angst, sad Jake, flirting, making out, brief emotional talks, sorry if I miss any!

finally!! most of this is light hearted fun, but the end is clearly setting the tone for the following chapters. the calm before the storm, perhaps 🥰 sorry for the wait, and sorry if this is not my best work! im just trying to bridge the gap and set the themes before we get into the gritty emotional stuff next. as always, enjoy, be kind, and don’t mind any grammar mistakes!! (p.s. this is super lightly edited 🫣)

Your bag dropped to the ground with a pathetic echo, the sound barely breaking through the dead air of the hotel room. It seemed just as exhausted as you were, and you found the slump of the fabric on the track bag ironically funny, because you felt like doing just the same. You kicked your shoes off at the door, immediately looking to the bed with longing in your eyes. Before you could get the chance to shut the door and climb under the covers, a surge of voices rang from down the hallway. You made your first mistake of the day as you peeked your head around the corner to investigate. Immediately, you saw your bandmates following behind Danny, who was moving towards your room with mischievous intent written all over his features.

By the time you had registered what was happening, Danny was close enough to reach out and touch you. You took a step backwards, a fruitless attempt at escape, but his hands were already reaching out for you. His fingers closed around your wrist just in enough time to pull you back into the hallway. “Danny!” You exclaimed, feeling a laugh break from your lips despite your disinterest in their antics.

“What do you think you’re doing? Trying to get away from us?” He questioned, raising an eyebrow as he spoke.

“Was hoping to take a nap before the show tonight. You know, so I don’t fall sleep on stage.” You rolled your eyes, but that answer was unacceptable for him.

“Oh come on, you’re gonna sleep away your first day of tour? Don’t let a little travel get you down.” Your two bandmates nodded their heads in agreement, standing guard with their arms crossed over their chests.

“I’m okay with that.” You nodded. It was uncharacteristic of you to refuse a party, but your bones were aching with sleepiness, begging you to rest on a mattress even for a moment.

“Yeah, but I’m not.” He said, reaching into his pocket and grabbing a mini bottle of fireball. “Drink up, sound check is in two hours.” You watched him, hoping for him to change his mind, but he had never looked so serious. You grabbed it, although openly reluctant about doing so. “That’s my girl.” He basked in his victory only for a moment before crouching to the ground.

“Danny, I’m not getting on your shoulders.” You refused. It was a charade the two of you seemed to fancy when you were drunk, but you were far too sober to entertain the idea now.

“Come on, have some fun!” He exclaimed, clearly over your displeasure with his attempts to set the mood. You let out a sigh, but ultimately did as he asked. You were never one to say no to Danny, especially when he seemed so happy. “Aha!” He spoke in triumph as he secured his hands on your thighs. He rose to his feet, and you ducked your head instinctively. The ceilings were high, not near close enough for you to hit your head, but your anxiety seemed to be much worse when you didn’t have any false confidence from alcohol.

“Don’t drop me, Daniel.” You scolded, holding onto his hands secured on your legs.

“Shut up and take the shot.” He chuckled, both of you knowing that dropping you was the last thing he would do, and if he did, he would cushion your fall just to make sure you wouldn’t get a scrape. He was the best friend you had ever had, and you were always a priority to him. He stopped in front of another door, loosening his grip on your leg only for a second to knock on the wood. After a few seconds, shuffling could be heard from inside the room, and Josh popped out from behind the door. He let out an immediate boom of laughter at the sight, clearly equally as thrilled about the first day of tour. Danny carefully grabbed another fireball shot from his pocket and handed it to the boy. He accepted and joined the party without a single exchange of words. You realized that this must be a normal antic for the boys, which also came with the realization that you had willingly signed up for months of the same torture.

“Two more to go.” Danny smiled.

“How many shots do you have?” You questioned, genuinely curious about the collection he was hoarding.

“Enough.” Was all he replied. Another door was knocked on, and Sam joined the party.

“Seems you’ve gotten taller.” Sam noted, looking up at you with a twinkle in his eyes. You wanted to chastise him, to sit back another witty remark, but every time you looked at him for a moment too long, all of the thoughts seemed to disappear from your brain. He always stole the moment, shining brighter than anything else. Instead of waiting for a response, he cracked the cap of the shot and tilted his head back, drinking down the liquid with nothing to spare.

You were hyper aware that the last person to retrieve was Jake, and you were excited to see him, although a bit nervous. Since the fiasco of the tour agreement signing, you and Jake had been distant. Not by an overwhelming margin, but definitely enough to notice. You were withdrawn because of your guilt for pushing him away, and he was withdrawn due to his hurt from you doing so. In your moments and nights spent alone, you could feel the tension in the air. It was minimal, but completely unspoken. Even the sex seemed to be different, definitely still phenomenal but a little less emotionally gratifying. You were both aching for connection, but couldn’t seem to find the right words to express it. You hadn’t seen him much on the plane, and you were itching to catch a glimpse of him, like an addict looking for a fix.

Sam, on the other hand, had grown quite fond of your company after the shared sweetness that night in his car. He felt closer to you than he ever had, and he wasn’t willing to give that up. In the weeks leading up to the start of tour, you had found yourself playing house with him more than usual, spending the night and drifting through the morning in minimal clothing and hearts dancing in your eyes. Morning coffee no longer tasted the same without his company, and the sunrise was a little less pleasant when he wasn’t there to share it with you.

Even with the space in your bed spoken for and the mornings laced with a promise of love, you couldn’t help but miss Jake. Every now and again, you yearned for that first morning spent with him, with his hands around your waist and his sweet nothings whispered in your ear. The serenity of cooking breakfast while he plucked away at a guitar and wordlessly dedicated songs to you; it was a subtle show of affection because, like always, he had been too afraid to speak it into existence. Your heart still ached for Jake, even with Sam loving you so deeply. He could tell; your eyes spoke it louder than any words you could say. You loved Sam, and he knew that even if you had refrained from saying it aloud, but he knew you loved his brother, too. He chose not to mention the pain he felt at the thought.

The debacle the three of you found yourself in had been going on for months, now. All of you were tired, ready for it to be over, but nobody was willing to give up. By refusing to let go, all of you were simply allowing the hurt to grow. If a choice in the beginning was impossible, it had grown into something even more catastrophic than what it started as. You prided yourself on being a levelheaded person, someone who was calculated and well thought out, but this mess was something so uncharacteristic for you. Had you been half the person you viewed yourself as, you would have put a stop to it long ago. You were a fool for both of them, and a fool for thinking you could outsmart them in their own game.

“Open up!” Danny sang as he knocked on the door of the last brothers room.

“M’coming!” He grumbled from inside. Within a moment, he appeared looking just as tired as you were feeling. He paused his movements, head just slight cocked to the side as he took in the sight before him. Slowly, his head upturned to you perched on Danny’s shoulders. You gave him a smile, one that showed him just how happy you were that he decided to join. His eyes softened at your expression, any gruff exterior melting away within an instant.

“Fireball?” You asked, carefully reaching down to hand him your bottle.

“You shouldn’t have.” He chuckled, retrieving the shot from you. He let his fingers rest on yours for a second extra, desperately wanting a moment of closeness with you. “But what about you?” A smirk tugged at his lips.

“Plenty more where that came from.” Danny answered for you, content that you seemed to be enjoying the energy, now. “Onward!” He sounded, turning quickly to go back in the direction you all came from. You grabbed on to him, holding yourself steady in fear of being dropped. He tightened his grip on your legs, a silent reassurance that he had you, and he wouldn’t let you go. “You know, I think we should try beer pong like this.” He theorized.

“I think that’s cheating.” You replied, seeing him near the door of your room.

“I’d let it slide.” Josh said, as if he were the commissioner of the game. Danny let out a noise of triumph, happy that he had someone on his side to disregard your arguments. He led everyone into your room, immediately walking to your bed and leaning backwards. You let out a shriek of terror as you began to lose your balance, but he loosened his grip on your thighs. You fell to the mattress, landing with a thud and a chorus of laughter from the audience surrounding you.

“Asshole,” you grumbled as you straightened yourself out.

“Here,” Danny threw a mini bottle at you. It landed beside you, catching your attention and distracting you from the excitement of the moment. “Drink up.” You did as you were told, cracking the cap and draining the alcohol from the bottle. The burn settled deep in your chest, the cinnamon overpowering and warming your body. Although the burn was not comparable to both of the familiar sets of eyes on you, neither thinking anything wholesome.

Sam was by the door, lost in chatter with Dylan and Riley, but his gaze was only settled on you. It did not matter who he was caught in conversation with, or what he was busy doing, you were permanently in the forefront of his mind. Jake was talking to Josh, small business about the show tonight and the importance of an opening night. Even though the context of the talk was about his passion, his biggest dream in which he’d been working his whole life to achieve, you were still heavily weighing on his thoughts. Jake was not even attempting to hide his stare; Josh was aware, and uncaring of the infatuation between the two of you. He continued speaking despite knowing Jake’s attention was not directed at him.

“Another?” Danny asked, pulling a few more bottles from his pocket.

“Jesus,” you laughed, amazed at the amount of alcohol he had shoved in the pocket of his jeans. “I’d like to make it to the concert, tonight.”

“Oh, you will. Don’t worry about that.” He assured you. “We’re celebrating your first day on tour ever. Isn’t it exciting?” He questioned, taking a seat next to you. You turned to face him, your back to the brothers in hopes to forget about their lingering eyes and wistful thoughts. You have a shrug, plucking another shot from his hand.

“Of course,” you nodded, but your tone was withdrawn.

“You’re nervous.” He stated, narrowing his gaze at you.

“No,” you scoffed, but avoided meeting his eyes at all costs. He could read you like a book; he didn’t need you to say the words for him to know. “Yeah.” You finally changed your stance when he refused to look away. “It’s normal, is it not? I mean, those people are there to see you guys, not us. And your fans… they can be ruthless, sometimes. I’m about to give my entire soul to the public, everything I’ve been scared of for my whole life. I think it’s okay to be a little scared.”

“Of course it is, y/n, but if you’re scared because you don’t think you have the talent, that’s not okay.” He corrected. You drank down the second shot, finally feeling a touch of relief from the anxiety constricting your chest. You took a deep breath as you swallowed down the alcohol, bargaining with your fear.

“I mean, I guess.” You sighed. “Fear of not being good enough is just as normal as anything else.”

“Not when you have as much talent as you do.” His answer was final, no willingness to debate the issue any further. “You’re going to get up there, and they’re going to love you just as much as they love us. You’re going to do fantastic, y/n. I’m not worried and you shouldn’t be, either.”

“Thank you, Danny.” You smiled. The warmth of his sincerity alone was enough to make you feel better, but his company worked even better. “I am excited, but I think the anxiety gets in the way of that sometimes.”

“Trust me, when you get in your stage clothes and they put your makeup on, you’ll feel like a whole new person. It’s a different kind of feeling, like you’re the most extravagant version of yourself and you can take on the whole world.” He assured you, taking a shot of his own. “Plus, we’ll be there on the sidelines cheering louder than anyone else. If you get nervous, just look for me.” He grinned. Sometimes you were overwhelmed by the support and love that Danny gave you. It was more than you had ever felt in your life, and you hoped he never stopped. Friendship with Danny was more beautiful than most simple pleasures in life, and he proved that love existed in many different ways, and even stronger than romantic by times.

“I love you.” You smiled, feeling the tension whither away indefinitely.

“I love you.” He said, glancing past you for a moment. “I think lover boy is jealous that I’m getting a moment alone with you.”

“Fuck, which one?” You sighed, rolling your eyes at the thought.

“Both.” He muttered, laughing to himself. “Any sign of stopping?”

“Plenty, but it seems like I’m colourblind, now. The stop signs look green and the red flags look pink.” You mumbled, twirling a frayed string from the rip in your jeans around your finger. “But the show must go on, right?”

“Not necessarily.” He shrugged. “Effect from cause, remember? If you’re hurting, you can stop it at the source.”

“I think that would hurt worse.” You gave a sad smile, shaking the idea from your head. “It doesn’t matter. It’s my own fault, so I’ll fix it somehow.” You advised, shuffling to your feet. “Thanks for the pep talk. I needed it.” You spoke softly as you moved towards the large glass doors on the other side of your room. Danny watched you walk away, realizing that pre-show anxiety might not be the only thing that was troubling you. He let you slip on to the balcony with no intent to follow. He loved you enough to recognize when you needed to be alone, and solitude was what you were craving. You were fine with the crowd hanging around your room, but you were searching for a moment of peace in hopes to decompress from the days activities.

You broke out into the afternoon air, surrounded by the distant sounds of the city. The sky was blue, cloudless and beholding the type of beauty you couldn’t recreate in a picture. You rummaged through your sweater pocket, locating a pack of cigarettes, and pulled one out. You took a seat on the patio chair, lighting the end and watching the flame from the lighter fizzle away in the wind. The building was tall, taller than any you had ever seen in your hometown, and you were nestled nearly at the top. You’d seen plenty of skyscrapers in Nashville, but upon your arrival in Atlanta you couldn’t believe how many people littered the streets of the cities you had never been privileged enough to visit.

You thought of your younger self, how excited she would be for you now, how thrilled she would be that you had broken free of the generational curses and you were finally living your dream. If only she could understand that implications of dreams were dangerous, and just because you were living the life you had hoped for did not mean you were perfectly content. Ever since the confessional of your broken childhood to Sam, it had been looming over your head like a sinister nightmare. You felt more pain over the memories of your past than you ever had before. You were forever wounded from the scars you had collected from loving the brothers now, and your body was giving way underneath the weight of your wrongs.

You were living your dream, yet you were so worn down that it was painful to enjoy it. You felt guilty for not being able to have fun; you knew you should be joyous, celebrating and drinking with the rest of your friends, but the ache that settled in your chest was almost too strong to withstand. Laughing felt foreign, and you thought that fun could not come without crushing guilt following it. You wished so badly that you could fall out of love as fast as you fell in love, but it just wasn’t possible. For a while, you felt like you were ahead, winning by possessing the ability of control, but they had their teeth in you, and as the days passed, claws, too. They were tearing you apart and you were letting them. The grief was growing, rooting into your bones and metastasizing on your soul while you mourned something you hadn’t even lost yet. But, loss was familiar even if you weren’t aware you were feeling it; you had lost yourself, respect for yourself, and the sense of right and wrong. You’d spent months believing you were gaining something from their love, but it simply wasn’t true. You’d given up so much of yourself amidst loving them that you were unrecognizable, now. The losses outweighed the benefits, and you were finally beginning to understand.

In your journey of learning how to love, you had quickly learned that loving was not easy. You can love and hurt at the same time, just the same as you can die while the sun is shining. As you sat under the sun, cigarette smoking in your hand, you realized that you already were. You were inviting it, welcoming death with open arms just to enjoy the peacefulness as you drifted. You were out of ideas on how to satiate the pain without inviting it back into your life, no idea how to heal the wounds without reopening them. The pain was worsened by them, but healed by them, too, and you were at the end of the road. Your last flame was flickering away, and they were out of fuel to keep it going. Instead of protecting it, you chose to focus on attempting to warm yourself with their fire, ignorant to the fact that their flames were producing a wind strong enough to turn you to dust.

“Hasn’t anyone told you that those are bad for you?” His voice cut through the serenity like a knife, breaking you from your internal brooding. It was so familiar, so comforting, yet left a lasting burn on your skin. He was comfort, but he was also catastrophe. Unfortunately for you, you were so comfortable in chaos that you loved him despite the disaster.

“Woke up a hypocrite, today?” You asked, not bothering to turn and look to him. For once, you weren’t yearning for the moment with him. You were perfectly fine with being upset, and perfectly fine without his help.

“Ouch,” he said, taking the seat beside you. “Just because I do it doesn’t mean I want you to do it, too. Not allowed to worry about you anymore?”

“I think you should stop worrying, Jacob.” You said, still refusing to look at him.

“I thought you quit?” He refused to give up, knowing that being on the receiving of your standoffish nature was better than not speaking to you at all.

“Living the rockstar lifestyle, now. Have to look the part.” You joked, but your tone was flat. You both fell into a silence, listening to the sound of cars passing below. You wanted to touch him, but you were afraid that you would give too much of yourself to him once more. It was so easy to give everything to Jake, even when he wasn’t asking for it.

“I miss you, y/n.” His admission was prompted by nothing but his own heart. The distance between you two was larger than it ever had been, and he was desperate to bridge the gap. He craved that connection he felt with you in the beginning, and he was fearful that all of the time you spent with Sam was locking him into a corner. He regretted pushing you to tell him your troubles, scared that it drove you even further away from him.

“I miss you, Jake.” You finally looked over at him, the sight of his face giving you nothing but pain. He caught your eye, holding your gaze but doing nothing more. He didn’t reach for you, not even expressing a thought that he would. He wanted you to reach for him, he needed to feel like you still wanted him as badly as he wanted you. If only he knew how much you wanted to tell him, he would never have to worry. You wanted to be everything for him; the best version of yourself, one that knew how to love properly and how to be loved by another, one who could give him the entire world, but you were fearful that you would never be that person, that you couldn’t be that person.

“When are you going to let me in, Gold Dust Woman?” He asked, looking back out over the balcony rail. The cloud of emotion radiating from him was so large that it was beginning to fill the sky with confessions and desires.

“I’m trying.” You whispered, flicking the ash off of your cigarette and watching as it fluttered to the ground. “I don’t know how.”

“Do you want to?”

“Yeah.” You admitted. “I really do, Jake, but it’s hard.”

“I think it’s time you let go of the idea that intimacy is easy.” He said, no passion nor desperation in his voice. He was fighting the battle with nonchalance despite every molecule in his body screaming for salvation. He had become painfully aware that emotion was not easy for you, but it was still excruciatingly difficult to contain his own. “You’ve been searching for the simple solution, but you need to understand that it’s not supposed to be easy. If it was, this would have been over a long time ago.” You wanted to be angry, upset that he shoved words down your throat that you didn’t want to hear, but he was right. Simplicity was extremely tempting, but it was not the answer to your questions. If you continued to search blindly for it, you would remain on the same journey until you died empty-handed and alone. “If you want to love me, you can. If you want to love him, you can. Sam and I aren’t strangers to the world we’ve been living in. I know you love him. I can see it. I can feel it when you look at him, y/n. I’m not asking you to stop feeling that way for him. I’m just hoping that you feel it for me, too. I think that you do, but I need to know if this is more than just sex, or if I’m only waiting to get my heart broken.”

“You’re an idiot if you can’t see it.” You were harsh, unbelieving of the fact that he was unsure if you felt that way for him. “It’s never been about sex, Jake. Maybe that first night, but never after that. If Sam gave me the world, and you didn’t, why would I still be here?” You asked, pulling your knees to your chest on the flimsy chair. Your cigarette was long burnt to a butt in your hand, but you continued holding it so you wouldn’t reach for another. You did feel obligated to teach them a lesson, but you never would have subjected him to so much pain if you felt nothing for him. “I don’t know how to let you in. I’ve spent my entire life trying to keep everyone out. Before you and Sam, I never needed to open up. I apologize for struggling, but it’s never been because I don’t want you.”

“There you go.” He whispered, looking back at you with more hope in his eye than before. “I’m not asking to be your hiding place for every secret. I would always keep it safe for you, but I know that’s too much to expect. I just need to know that you care. I think we’ve been doing this long enough for me to ask.”

“Like I said, Jacob. Idiot.” Your words were insulting, but a smile was tugging at your lips. There was one on his, too. “Don’t convince yourself you’re not special, because you know it’s not true. You know what you mean to me.”

“Don’t have to be so mean about it.” He joked, but the tension was nonexistent. You were back in the realm of comfortability that you hadn’t felt in a long time.

“I think we’ve been doing this long enough for me to say that.” You shot back his own statement. “In fact, I think you like it.”

“Sadist,” he whispered, hopeful for normalcy. He was rewarded when extended your hand out to him, which he slipped into his own eagerly. Silence became you as you both leaned back in your chairs, fingers interlocked while looking down upon the city. Although normal was not even close to what the current situation was, it was normal for you and Jake, and that was all that mattered.

“Are you excited?” He broke the silence after a long while without conversation.

“Scared.” You corrected. “Seems like fear is the only thing I know how to feel.”

“You’ll blow them away, Gold Dust Woman.” He assured you, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. “I didn’t give you that nickname for nothing.”

“I can’t believe you talked me into this.” And you meant it. It was beyond you that Jake was able to persuade you to join them on tour, and although he did not single-handedly convince you, he definitely did the brunt of the work.

“You’ll change your mind after tonight. I promise.” He assured you, still trying to keep his eyes off of you. He felt if he looked in your direction again, he would never be able to look away. “Once the dream comes to life, you’ll never look back. You’ll want to live in it forever.”

“You’re telling that to someone who’s created a life from running away.”

“At least slow down to look at the sights, this time.” You broke, looking over at him in a moment of weakness. Through the storm weathering your brain, he was the moment of serenity. It was like driving under a bridge during a hurricane, loud for so long until you were covered by his shadow and blessed with silence.

“I am.” You promised, the two words strong and full of hope for something better. “I’ve been angry with myself for not knowing how to change, but it’s time to learn.” You explained. “I’m done running, and I’m trying not to be afraid anymore.”

“And I’m proud of you for it.” He finally caught your gaze again, weak from the power you had over him. “I’ll be proud of you forever, even if it has to be from a distance. Even if you don’t pick me, Gold Dust Woman.” He hoped the profession wouldn’t cause another rift between you, but the truth was that you had been waiting years for someone to say something so meaningful to you. When he said it the first time, it was too overwhelming to accept. Now, you could listen to him say it forever. Little by little, he was breaking down the wall.

“I…” Love you. “Like you, Jake. A lot.” You couldn’t muster the strength for the truth, but he knew. Even without the proper word spoken, he could feel the power of the statement.

“I like you, too.” He said, leaning in for a kiss. It was short, but sweet and filled with love. If you weren’t okay with speaking it aloud, he could settle for showing you. “We should probably get ready to head to the venue.” He said, regretful for pulling away. He wished he could kiss you until his lips turned blue and his lungs could no longer remember what oxygen felt like.

“Yeah, you’re probably right.” You agreed, but wished you could stay, too.

“I’ll come and see you before you get on stage.” He promised. “Just so you know your biggest fan is cheering you on.”

“You don’t need to be there for me to know that.” You murmured, nose still brushing with his own. He left another kiss on your lips, the sweetness strong enough to last until he could get the chance again.

The two of you filtered back into the hotel room to join the crowd. Your chest felt lighter, like Jake had picked up some of the weight that was dragging you down and put it upon his own shoulders. In a sense, he did. Jake was always willing to carry some of your struggle so you could walk with ease, even if it was a bit too heavy for him to handle. You grabbed your bag from the floor, picking through it to grab your wallet and any other necessities for the night. By the time you collected your belongings, the rest of the company dwindled away, returning to their own rooms to do the same. Jake did not stay to chat, but he did give you a look of longing before emerging into the hallway. He didn’t stay long enough to see it, but you gave him one just the same.

When you arrived at the venue, the sheer size of the building was overwhelming. It was a long journey from playing bars around town to opening for a world tour. A regular crowd for your local shows wouldn’t even fill a single section of this venue. Riley slipped an arm around your shoulder, sensing the return of your anxiety. He was incredibly understanding, mostly because they were both feeling the pressure too. When you entered the back door, event organizers were pointing you in the correct directions. You tried to swallow your nerves, but seeing how naturally the boys responded only made you realize how much of an amateur you were at their craft.

“You guys are up first for soundcheck,” Aaron said, nodding towards the stage. “We do most of the work, so just play a few songs. If something sounds off, let us know.”

“Oh, o-okay,” you nodded, looking to your bandmates. They seemed eager to get out there, like they were counting down the minutes until they could finally play for the world. You wished to dig a hole and hide in it forever; you never felt more out of place than you did in that moment.

“We’re okay.” Dylan assured you. “It’s going to be fine.” You gave another nod, letting the other to lead the way to the stage. Your instruments were set up, ready to go so the sound check could run smoothly.

You grabbed your guitar, throwing the strap over your head. You plucked a few of the strings, caught off guard by the volume. Riley did the same with a grin eating away at his cheeks, wanting to test the volume for himself. Dylan couldn’t contain her laughter at the excitement dancing in his eyes, hitting a few off beats to join in on the moment. It seemed like the sound of the music had struck a nerve in all of you. The sheer excitement from the volume was enough to keep you going. “Give me something to work with.” You broke out of your shell, joking with the drummer. She was pleased with your response, taking your comment and running with it.

She began a familiar beat, the sound ringing through the empty stadium. The noise was so strong that you could feel it in your chest, rattling your bones and overtaking your heartbeat, but it was fantastic. You had never felt more alive; all the fears you had been feeling seemed to float away, replaced with electricity from the booming beat of the drum. After a few moments, you hit a couple chords on the guitar. The clean tone wasn’t good enough for you, though. You took a step towards the pedalboard and engaged one of the switches with your foot. The distortion kicked in, prompting a smile on your lips. Dylan hit a high, her arms moving faster than you could comprehend, and then she stopped completely. There was stagnant air only for a second before you started the main riff of the song. Once you ran through it, Dylan and Riley joined.

“Now look at them yo-yo’s, that’s the way you do it

You play the guitar on the MTV

That ain’t workin, that’s the way you do it

Money for nothing and your chicks for free.”

You stopped playing as you finished, opting not to play the entire song and eager to move onto something a little harder. You looked between the two, your smile never leaving your face. “Let’s pick up the pace.” You teased, breathless and your cheeks stained red.

“Try me.” She challenged.

You turned off the distortion, clicking another pedal to replace the effect. You hovered your foot over the Wah pedal and began an intro to Voodoo Child. The other two joined and Riley began singing the lyrics to the song. You finished without a hitch, all of you giggly and high off the adrenaline rush.

“You want a challenge?” Riley asked. You nodded, listening intently for him to begin a bass line. He plucked a few familiar notes, lighting a fire in you.

“You’re on.” You cut him off, switching your pedals again. He lowered his hand, taking a step away from the mic in anticipation. You took a breath, closing your eyes for a moment to channel the right energy. He had picked a hard song, and you were unsure if you could pull it off, but you were more than willing to try. You took a look over your shoulder before starting, catching the staring eyes of the four boys watching in awe. Jake wasn’t even attempting to hide his stare, falling more in love with you every time your fingers graced the strings of the Les Paul. His eyes flickered to your face, hoping to catch a glimpse of your beauty in the moment. When he realized you were already looking at him, he sent a smile your way. You gave him a wink, but didn’t wait to see a reaction.

Your fingers carried the tune from muscle memory. It was fast, hard to keep up with even when you were the one setting the pace. You took a step to the microphone, Riley already well aware that you were leading the way. It was your favourite song to play, and one of the most difficult to beat in comparison to any other. It was a show stopper, and clearly he was looking to set the record straight with your talent. He knew that you belonged on the stage, but he wanted you to realize it, too. You sang through the first verse, extra concentrated to ensure you didn’t make any mistakes. When the chorus came around, the tension in your shoulders dissipated indefinitely, and you were one with the guitar as you played.

“He’s my sweet little thing,

He’s my pride and joy

He’s my sweet little baby,

He’s my little lover boy.”

You laughed into the mic as you sang and Riley jumped right into the next verse. He sang the second chorus, looking over to you as he led you into the solo. You took a step back from the microphone and towards the bassist, leaning into him as you played. He laughed at your antics, leaning forward as well while his fingers continued to move on the fretboard. Dylan was giggling as she tried to keep time with you both, always finding your performance hilarious. Being on stage seemed to bring out an entirely new side of you, but it was fantastic for them to see. You had a passion for performing, and if you could, you would stay on stage and sing until your lungs gave out. It was getting up there that was the trouble, and never anything that came after.

You both moved back to the microphones to finish the song, singing the lyrics together for the finale. When you plucked the final note, you barely had time to comprehend the loss of the music before cheers erupted from the side stage. You looked over at the group of boys, skin still tingling with the euphoric feeling of playing live music. Aaron gave you a thumbs up, happy with the sound and signalling that you guys were good. You placed your guitar back on it’s stand, rushing off to meet the group waiting for you. “We sound okay?” You asked, looking between them with a hopeful gleam in your eye.

“Okay?” Sam scoffed.

“Try amazing.” Josh corrected.

“Three man band really is all you need.” Danny smiled.

“Stevie Ray Vaughan?” Jake questioned, an eyebrow raised. The entire group turned to look at him, wondering if he was really going to critique the performance.

“Yeah,” you breathed, suddenly feeling nervous. ‘Was it that bad?’ You thought to yourself, shifting your weight on your feet.

“You have to be one phenomenal guitarist to pull that off.” He said, gaze still lingering over your face. He had a far away look in his eye, like his mind was completely elsewhere. “I think that you played it even better than he did. That was fantastic, Gold Dust Woman.” The term of endearment slipped out, like a little secret he’d been burying for a lifetime was finally too strong to withstand. He was too in love with you to notice, and you were too ecstatic to care. Hearing such a compliment from Jake was more intoxicating than any kind of substance you could use. You wished you could live in the cloud of elation from his words forever.

Before you could speak to thank him, you were being pulled in another direction from a set of unfamiliar hands. The event staff was whisking you away to your dressing room, but you weren’t ready to leave. You wanted to tell him how much his compliment meant to you, to stay and admire his beauty for just a moment longer. Looking at Jake was like wishing upon a shooting star; normally, your hopes felt feeble, but the sight of him before you served as a reminder that all dreams could come true if you wished hard enough. Before you were completely out of reach, he managed to reach for your hand and give it a gentle squeeze. Your fingers broke from him while still caught in a plea for more, but you had things to do that did not include his company.

“Gold Dust Woman?” Dylan asked, both her and Riley following along close behind you. The staff directed you into a dressing room, stating that this would be yours and your stylist would join you shortly. “Did the name come from him, or does he call you that because of the name?”

“Lines a little blurred there, honestly. I couldn’t tell you.” You shrugged, stepping inside the room. Riley went his separate way, being led down the hallway to a different area. But Dylan wasn’t one to quit, never leaving your side until you were unable to escape her.

“Come on, y/n.” She pried, a laugh stuck in her throat.

“Yes, the name came from him.” You snipped, taking a seat on the couch. She sat beside you, kicking her feet up on the table sitting in front of her and making herself at home.

“I thought you and Sam were a thing. Doesn’t it bother him that you named your band after Jakes nickname for you?” It was your turn to laugh, the question so incredibly hard to answer that it was more humorous than anything.

“Yes, Sam and I are a thing.” You said, sinking down into the cushions. She watched, waiting for you to continue. When you didn’t, her eyes widened in shock.

“Him, too?”

“Him first, actually.” You muttered. “It’s all so fucked up.

“They’re brothers,” she said, looking off into the distance as she processed the information. “Promiscuous.” She giggled, looking back at you. “Good for you.”

“No, not good.” You chuckled, still finding her jokes funny despite the twisted premise of the conversation. “It’s a mess, and I don’t know how to get out of it.”

“Clearly, if you named the band after him.” She let out another giggle, shaking her head at the new information as she reiterated her point. “You’re a smart girl. You’ll figure it out.” She assured you.

“Haven’t felt very smart lately.” You sighed as you looked up at her. She gave a sympathetic nod, but wasn’t anywhere near ready to end the conversation yet.

“They’re cute, so you have that going for you at least.” You both shared a laugh, unable to refute the fact. “How long?”

“Couple months.”

“And you’ve been keeping it a secret from me for that long?” She feigned a look of hurt.

“Guess I thought if I didn’t talk about it, it would work itself out. I was wrong.”

“It’s okay to be wrong sometimes. Happens to all of us.” She shrugged. “I thought Gold Dust Woman came from your love for Fleetwood Mac. I was wrong. Very wrong.” You both divulged into another laugh, one that made your stomach ache and your lungs desperate for oxygen.

“Which one are you in love with?” She asked, ceasing her laughter but holding her smile. You looked up to meet her eyes, unable to give her the proper answer. “I mean, whichever one you choose should be the one you fell in love with. After this long, you should know that by now.”

“Both of them.” You mumbled, looking to your hands in your lap. “I love them both, for completely different reasons.”

“Ouch,” she winced, not expecting the bluntness of your words. “That makes it tough, then.”

“You have no idea.” You replied, cut off by a body entering the room carrying two large suitcases worth of supplies.

“Alright, y/n?” The unknown woman asked, eyes drifting between you both. You raised your hand, giving her a smile. “You’re up first for makeup and wardrobe.”

“I’ll leave you to it.” Dylan slapped her hands to her thighs before making a move to stand. You gave her an apologetic smile, but she was out the door before she even noticed. You turned your attention to the girl you had yet to be introduced to, giving her a warm grin, excited for what she had in store for you.

She ushered you over to the chair on the other side of the room. You took a seat, but didn’t speak a word until she got a good look at you, familiarizing herself with your face. “I’m your stylist. Specifically yours, but I do work with Greta’s team occasionally. I’m Rachel.” She hummed, running her fingers through your hair.

“Nice to meet you.” You said, looking at your reflection in the mirror while she studied you. You could already tell you were going to like her; she had an exuberant attitude that drew you in, even with her minimal conversation.

“I have lots of stuff planned for you, but I want to hear your thoughts.” She said, pulling another chair up beside you. She took a seat, leaning back and watching your face. “What do you want to look like? Who do you want to be when you get up on that stage?” You pondered her words, thinking hard about the personality you wanted to encase.

“Confident. I want to be me, but just more confident.” You deducted. “Don’t have a whole lot of that normally, so I want something to make me look like I am. Maybe I’ll actually feel it once I get out there.” She nodded as you spoke.

“I like it.” She smiled. “Are you a bold colour type of person, or do you like darker?”

“Darker clothes usually, but I don’t mind a bit of excitement.” She chuckled.

“You’re comfortable with makeup?” You nodded. She repeated your action, standing once again. “Alright, I think I’ve got it figured out.”

She got to work, starting with your makeup. You made as much small talk as the situation would allow, but mostly just enjoyed being pampered. It was something you had never experienced before, and you were enjoying being able to sit back and relax while somebody else was doing the brainstorming for the final look. She was agile with her hands, quick at her job and damn good at it, too. When she finished your makeup, she took a step back for you to admire the sight. You had a black smokey eye, bold and yet elegant looking. It was complimented by a precise wing of gold eyeliner that made your eyes stand out. Deep contour and a dusty blush plastered your cheeks, and your lips shined with a glossy glow. Where highlighter usually sat, she had arranged a few gold star stickers that shimmered under the light. Your eyebrows were done neatly and false eyelashes sat on your eyelids.

You barely recognized yourself; you felt more beautiful than you ever had before. The makeup was heavy, but somehow looked natural, like your face was meant to house such a statement. When you looked to her with a gleam in your eye, you didn’t even have to tell her how good she did. It was written all over your expression. She got you into your outfit next, saving your hair for last. She helped you into the unfamiliar clothes, fixing a shirt on you that would certainly catch attention. It was a metallic gold tank top with only one strap. It was asymmetrical, coming down further on the opposite side of the strap and sitting above your hip on the other. She used a few safety pins to hold the fabric to your bra, ensuring it wouldn’t slip out of place. You out on a pair of black pants that were tight, hugging every inch of your skin and complementing the right spots.

“Heels or no?”

“Yeah, I’m good with heels.” You agreed. You wore them often enough to be comfortable in them all night without worry. She found a pair of black leather boots with a thicker heel to make you as comfortable as possible. You changed from your regular shoes into the new pair before checking yourself in the mirror.

You were baffled at your reflection; you had no idea you could look so enchanting with such little work. It seemed like she completely transformed you into the most stunning version of yourself. “Alright, hair and then we’re done.” She smiled. You took a seat back in the chair and watched as she searched for the tools she needed. She took little time running a curling iron through the locks of your hair with ease. She clipped them as she curled, wanting them to keep their shape while she worked. Once she finished, she brushed through the ringlets with her fingers, breaking them up as they formed into one solid wave. She doused it with hairspray to hold it there, and then spritzed some glitter into the strands so it would glisten under the stage light. “What do you think?”

“I… I don’t even know what to say.” You gave a small laugh, inspecting your reflection intently. “I don’t even recognize myself. It’s… ethereal.”

“It’s all you, Gold Dust Woman. You just look the part, now.” She grinned, making a move to pack up her things. You knew that she had called you that because of the name of your band, but you couldn’t help but feel a tingle down your spine at the term. Jake had done fantastically at sedimenting himself into your thoughts, making himself inescapable even when the situation had nothing to do with him. “I have to get started with Dylan, but if you need me I’ll just be in her room.”

“Yeah, okay.” You nodded, still breathless at the glamorous nature of your presentation. “Thank you.” She filtered out of the room, bags rustling as she struggled to keep them all in her arms. After a few more moment of admiration for her work, you decided to explore the place a bit more.

You stepped into the hallway, peering around for a familiar face. You heard the sound of music lingering through the air, figuring the boys were still amidst their own sound check. Instead of waiting around, you walked towards the door that led to the main building in hopes of locating a bar. You snuck into the next hallway, looking around curiously at the unfamiliar territory. It was silent, seemingly no bodies present in the area, but you continued on your search anyway. You broke into a main entrance, sunlight beaming through the panel windows. Chatter sounded from a distance, and you noticed a sign on the wall displaying directions. You let out a noise of triumph, following the arrow that was pointing to a bar.

When you presented yourself in front of the counter, there were a few people bustling behind it and making small talk amongst themselves. When they noticed your presence, a younger man walked to greet you. “Was hoping there was a bar here. Otherwise I would have looked quite ridiculous walking around for nothing.” You grinned.

“Where there’s music there’s alcohol, right?” He chuckled.

“Right.” You agreed. “Double rum and coke, please.” You pulled a twenty from the back of your phone case, ready to pay him, but he seemed immersed in the details of your face.

“You’re part of the opening act, right?”

“Yeah, that’s my band.” You smiled, nodding your head towards the tour posters splayed across the walls.

“So, was that you I heard singing earlier?” He raised an eyebrow. You scanned his expression, noticing his eyes were laced with flirtatious undertones. He wasn’t bad looking; in fact, he was quite handsome, but you were in no position to entertain a third pursuer. Not that he could ever compare to the two boys you had already fallen for, anyway.

“It was.” You nodded, keeping the smile on your lips. Entertaining was different than enjoying, after all, and you could definitely enjoy it without intent for more. “Did I sound good?”

“Don’t know why you’re not headlining.” He responded, his voice dropping slightly as he poured the liquor into your cup. “Pretty face, pretty voice. You’ve got it all.” Under all of the makeup, you felt your cheeks heat with a blush. He sat your drink on the counter and you tried to pass him the money to pay. “This one’s on me,” he said, refusing to accept the bill. “As long as you come back and say hi before the night ends.”

“I guess I’ll have to.” You grinned, taking a sip from the straw. “Thank you.” He grabbed a pen and quickly jotted something down on a napkin. He slid it your way before speaking again.

“If you’re around town after the show and looking for some sights to see, give me a call. I make a great tour guide.”

“I’ll certainly keep that in mind.” You grinned before uttering a small goodbye. You followed the same path back to the backstage entrance. As you made your way back to your room, your stomach sank with disappointment in yourself for flirting back with the bartender, even knowing how in love you were with Jake and Sam both. Even so, you couldn’t help but notice the carefree nature you had during the interaction; it was nice flirting with someone other than the two boys. It was easy, no crushing guilt nor worry for repercussions about your actions. You’d spent so long tangled within the Kiszka web that you forgot how simple love could be, and the realization was horrible to feel.

Amidst loving both of them so deeply, you had forgotten the ease and carelessness that came before them. You adored them, and knew that what you felt for them was true, but the pain from loving them was hard to handle sometimes. It wasn’t hard enough to want to stop, but it was definitely painful enough to make you wish for something easier by times.

You rounded the corner into your dressing room, stopping with a shock when you noticed the body present on your couch. He looked up from his phone with a smile on his lips as he prepared to greet you. Once his eyes landed on you, he couldn’t seem to find the words he wanted to say. At the sight of him, your previous thoughts dissipated instantly, only leaving a residual sense of guilt behind. The phone number in your pocket was meaningless; no matter how difficult loving them could be, nobody else could ever make you feel the same way that the brothers could. “Hi, Sammy.” You breathed, suddenly nervous just from his presence. Even in his street clothes, completely relaxed and careless, he was stunning.

“Hello, Gorgeous.” He greeted you in the same awestruck tone, a smile tugging at his lips. “Or Gold Dust Woman, rather.” He corrected. You forced a smile onto your lips, worried that his words were hidden with hurt from Jake’s term of endearment, but he didn’t seem to be upset at all. Perhaps he was just referring to the band name. You had gotten yourself in quite a bind by naming the band after Jake’s favourite nickname for you, but it felt so right at the time that you couldn’t seem to refute the idea.

“Like the new look?” You asked, moving towards him. He stood, ready to greet you as you approached. Once you were within reach, you placed your drink down on the table and he snaked his hand to your waist, pulling you into him.

“Love it, actually.” He brought his other hand to your cheek, fingers gently brushing against your skin as they moved under the hair framing your face. Your eyes fluttered closed at the touch, an involuntary reaction prompted by the blissful feeling of his skin on your own. “I think I’d like it more if we took the clothes off.” He added, the hand on your hip tightening more as he spoke. You felt a flutter in your stomach, unable to fight the rush of emotion that arose from his statement.

“Behave yourself, Sam.” You scolded, but a smile was growing on your lips.

“Where’s the fun in that?” He was smiling, too. His face was just hovering over your own, his lips dangerously close to yours. Too close to resist. “I’m sure your stylist wouldn’t mind fixing you up again. If we locked the door, nobody would ever know.”

“Don’t want to ruin her hard work.”

“Can I at least get a rain check for the hotel?” You could practically feel his lips on yours, his close proximity being the only thing you could think of.

“You know my room number.” You said, leaning forward and bridging the gap between you. He responded enthusiastically, happy that you made the move. Although you denied him sex, you weren’t willing to deny him everything all at once. You parted your lips slightly, deepening the kiss. The longer you kissed him, the more you were willing to agree to his suggestion of locking the door. When you parted from him, you were both breathless with stars dancing in your eyes. “Is that my good luck for tonight?”

“You don’t need any luck,” he brushed your comment off. “Not with that much talent.”

“So it was just an invitation for later.” You laughed.

“Yeah, exactly.” He agreed, pulling you in for another kiss. It was short, but sweet and filled with love. You both had become experts at saying I love you without uttering a word. “They opened the doors not too long ago, so you guys will be up soon.”

“Okay,” you heard his words, but didn’t really register the meaning. You were too immersed in his company to care about what was to come next.

“I don’t want to distract you for too long.” He mumbled, letting his thumb drift over the exposed skin on your neck. “Just wanted to tell you that you’re going to do great. The kiss was just a bonus.”

“I think another one would be even better.” You crooned. He let out a low chuckle, agreeing with you but not willing to give in. “Just for a little extra luck.”

“Well, if that’s the case…” he trailed off, leaning down and pulling you into one last kiss. You held him to you, enjoying the moment too much to let it slip away so soon. You let out a hum of pleasure against him, letting him know just how much you appreciated his company.

You were so lost in him that when a sharp knock on the door sounded, you nearly jumped out of your skin in fear. You jumped away from him, much like a kid who was showing guilt for doing something mischievous. Although your entanglement was known to many, you still felt that pestering need to hide it. You turned, nearly vibrating with anxiety, to see who was at the door. When your eyes landed upon the intruder, your stomach sank. Jake was standing in the doorway, face stoney and eyes glossed over with a type of pain that was impossible to conceal. You had forgotten about his promise to visit you before the concert. You had forgotten about your own rule of keeping your relationships with them separate. You had welcomed Sam and disregarded Jake once again, and this time it seemed like it had devastated him even more so than the last.

Sam could sense the tension, also appearing sheepish for being caught. It served little comfort to know that neither seemed like they were in a rush to leave. “Wardrobe, Sam. They’ve been looking for you for ten minutes.” His tone was strong, his sentences short. His chest was aching at the thought of Sam loving you in the same way he did. Knowing it was one thing, and seeing it was another, even more horrible thing.

“Sorry,” he cleared his throat. He omitted any type of goodbye, but did brush hands with you on his way by as a silent show of apology. Jake barely moved out of the way to let him by, causing Sam to bump Jake’s shoulder with his own. When he disappeared around the corner, you were at a loss for words to express your remorse.

“Came by to make sure you were doing okay. Guess he beat me to it.” He gave a tight lipped smile, showing no emotion as he spoke, but you knew how much it was bothering him. “You seem to be doing more than alright.”

“Jake, I’m sorry.” You pleaded, desperate to make up for the mishap somehow. You took a step towards him, but he took a step back. He didn’t want it, and you didn’t want to push him. As he scuttled away from you, his eyes landed on something on the floor. He leaned down and picked it up, eyes dusting over the words written on the paper. The napkin with the bartenders phone number had slipped from your pocket, but the innocent interaction seemed to come back just to bury you within the grave.

“You really have been busy tonight.” He hummed, looking back to you and extending his arm for you to grab the napkin. “Better give the ‘handsome bartender’ a call, just to make sure he doesn’t feel left out, too.” He didn’t intend to sound so rude, but he didn’t know how else to respond to the situation. You snatched the napkin, frantically reading over the message the nameless boy wrote.

“This?” You said, crumpling it and throwing it in the garbage. “Is nothing. If I can swear to anything, it’s that.” You came off stronger than intended, your desperation evident and very unflattering. “I’m not calling him, Jake. I call you, I want to see you, I like spending time with you. I like you.” You hoped that your profession would serve a purpose, but it only seemed to drive him further away. Perhaps if you were able to speak the true sentiments that you had for him, it would have made the difference.

“And Sam, y/n. Can’t forget about him.” He reminded, raising an eyebrow at you. You couldn’t find the words to answer, so instead you said nothing. You had never seen Jake look at you with such contempt, and it was killing you. Any thoughts of the simple nature with the bartender were futile. You were certain you would never care this much about another person. You had never before cared enough to want to stop someone from walking away. You were a lot of things, but never one to beg someone to stay. “And it was enough to get you to take his number, though. Two not enough for you anymore?”

“Oh, fuck you, Jake.” You snapped, feeling a bubble of anger rise within you. “You started this and now you want to chastise me for being stuck in the middle? You don’t get to be mad, Jacob. We’ve been over this.” Your defensive response was not what was needed to diffuse the situation, and you could tell that it did nothing but worsen the tension. Jake gave a slow nod of his head, wondering if you were going to say anything else. When you stood, staring with fire dancing in your eyes, he spoke again.

“You’re gonna do great tonight, y/n.” He said as monotone as he could. He thought if he had the ability to properly express himself, he might be able to put the suffering to an end. The first time was child’s play, a superficial scrape in comparison to the stab that came with this one. Before, it was easy to digest the knowledge of you loving Sam. Now, it was excruciating. Everything was easier to overcome when love wasn’t a question, but once the dreaded feeling settled in and seemed to want to stay, the pain seemed to hurt just a little bit worse each time.

“Wait, I’m sorry. Jake, please.” You took another step towards him, hoping he would stay long enough for you to talk to him.

“You look beautiful.” He added, turning away from you. “You really fit the part, Gold Dust Woman.” He muttered to himself, shaking his head as he walked away. You stepped into the hallway to follow, but instead, you watched him walk away. You knew there was no way to stop his hurt; that ache in his chest was all too familiar, and the only thing that would put an end to it was a decision that you weren’t ready to make. As much as you wanted to take his pain away, you needed to understand that sometimes it was impossible, especially in that moment, because you were the one causing it. It was horrible knowing that you wanted to give him the world, but you were the sole reason he couldn’t have it.

You didn’t have time to dwell because your bandmates had crowded behind you, jittering with excitement and eager to see your outfit. In hopes to tend to your own wounds, you retired to your dressing room with the other two in tow. You drank away your sorrow as your friends expressed their feelings about performing, and after a while, you managed to find the strength to speak, too. When the time to perform drew near, the staff came to explain how it would work and give you instructions and cues to remember. You were so nervous by the time you were supposed to get on stage that your interaction with Jake had floated to the back of your mind. Your stylist came to touch up makeup, and the three of you were sent to side-stage.

You had your eyes closed intermittently as you walked to the curtain, blocking out the world and repeating encouragements in your head to overshadow any doubt. As you opened your eyes and exhaled the breath you were holding, you took a look around your surroundings. When you turned your head back towards the hallway, you felt like you had been punched in the stomach. Jake was placed perfectly against the wall in plain sight. He had a smile on his lips and his arm slung around the waist of an unfamiliar woman. In an instant, you were brought back to your own garage, drunk off cheap vodka and grief over your non-existent relationship with Sam Kiszka. It only took one smile with hidden implications to send you into a downward spiral of despair. One touch that was bordering the line of innocence shattered your confidence, leaving you choking down the suffocating feeling of not being good enough. His fingers lingering on her waist were grounds to drive you to insanity. You felt like you were going to be sick.

As if he knew you were watching, like he knew you were there and hurting over his careless behaviour, he looked up and caught your eyes. He let his stare captivate you for a moment too long before a smile graced his lips, proving that his motive was solely to piss you off. He was intentional about his actions, and covering his own hurt in the only way he knew how: shutting down and pushing you away. It was soul-crushing, the way he protected himself, because it was the exact same thing that you had learned to do. He didn’t break your stare until the woman let out a giggle and wiggled further into his arms.

“You look like you’re going to throw up.” Dylan said, worry evident in her tone.

“I’m good.” You assured her, swallowing down your momentary distaste for Jake. If he wanted to play with fire, he was asking to get burned. “Let’s put on a hell of a fucking show.” You said, staring straight faced at the instruments that awaited your hands.

“You guys are on.” Aaron ordered, cutting your conversation short. You shared a look between your bandmates, feigning confidence as you emerged onto the stage. You pushed the thought of Jake as far down as you could, ignoring the searing sensation left in its place. Your entire body felt like it was on fire, ignited with rage over his childish tactics.

The spotlight beamed down on you, nearly blinding you as it illuminated your face. You picked up the Gold Top, taking your place by the microphone as your friends situated themselves with their own instruments. “Hello, Atlanta!” Riley boomed into the microphone. He was met with cheers from the crowd. Thousands of people were staring up at you, curious about who you were and what you had to offer. “It’s great to be here. We’re new at this, so please be patient with us while you wait for the main event.” Laughter filled the air, easing your erratic heartbeat.

“If you don’t know who we are, I really hope you will after tonight.” You smiled into the mic, eyes drifting over nameless faces. Another wave of applause filled the stadium.

“There’s no better way to introduce ourselves than by honouring the woman who started it all: Stevie Nicks.” Riley said, looking to you. “Take it away, Gold Dust Woman.” You smiled at his introduction, immediately looking down at your hands and plucking the first notes to the infamous song.

Muscle memory guided you through the cover of the song you held so dearly to your heart, but the lyrics served no comfort as you sang. You took the stage by storm, breaking out of your shell and singing the anthem of the band, the anthem perfect for a woman who was as despicable as you, but there was still some habits that you couldn’t seem to break. Every face in the crowd seemed to morph into Jake’s, and your lungs burned with anguish at the sight. No matter how hard you tried to forget him, he seemed to want to invade every possible aspect of your life until there was nothing left to overtake. You loved him dearly, but it was at a cost too high to afford; you were losing your sanity, and he was just happy that it was at his own hands rather than his brothers. Your twisted game only seemed to become more sick as time passed.

But, the blame was not on Jake alone. You would not have taken the name Gold Dust Woman had it not fit the narrative. You would not be a Gold Dust Woman if not for your deepest desires being the exact things that would inevitably destroy you in the end.

Rock on Ancient Queen

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