Aunties and uncles clear a space around the small stage setup—just a keyboard, a mic stand, and enough room for Joel and me to not actively kill each other on stage.
As I settle onto the bench, I glance up, scanning the crowd.My mother is practically glowing.My father is nodding approvingly.And Ethan?—
Ethan just winces slightly, like he’s sorry for everything.
You should be, bro.You should be.
Joel finishes adjusting his guitar strap and gives me a quick nod.“Ready?”
I flex my fingers over the keys.I know this.We practiced this.We have a plan.
I nod back.“Let’s go.”
I take a breath, centering myself over the keys as Joel strums a quiet chord, testing the sound.The murmur in the room fades as people turn their attention toward us.
We know this setlist.Weplannedthis setlist.This isfine.
I let the familiar melody settle into place under my fingertips, the opening notes smooth, practiced.
Joel’s voice slides in effortlessly.
And just like that, the noise, the crowd, the chaos—it all falls away.
For the next half hour, it’s just music.
Just us.
And it actuallyfeelsgood.
The harmonies land, the rhythm stays perfectly in sync, and even though we haven’t performed together in years, it still feels easy.
When we hit the last chorus of the final planned song, I feel it—relief.
I survived.
The last notes fade into silence, and then—thunderous applause.
I can feel my shoulders finally unclench as I lift my hands from the keys, already pushing back from the bench, ready to retreat.
And then?—
“Actually…”
Joel’s voice is smooth, too smooth, but I hear the shift underneath it.The quiet determination.
My stomach drops.
I whip my head toward him.Oh, you absolute menace.
He flashes me a knowing look, adjusting his guitar strap.“I’ve got one more.This one—” His voice lowers just a fraction, like the words are meant just for me.“This is for you, Ace.”
The crowd erupts, completely oblivious to the fact that I am currently having a full-blown existential crisis.What in the hell is hedoing?
I glance out into the crowd.
My mother is glowing.
My dad—he’s just open and curious.