The sun was just dipping behind the buildings in downtown Columbus as the crowd filled in tight around the small outdoor stage—set up right beside the neighborhood rec center where Jonah had spent most of his childhood afternoons drumming on plastic chairs and soda crates. It wasn’t a massive festival. It wasn’t a fancy amphitheater. It was better.
It was his block.
Thane stood behind the mix station at the side of the stage, double-checking every line and trim level. Mark adjusted the front light rig with his usual calm precision, letting the sunset do most of the work. Gabriel paced with a wild grin and an extra shot of espresso in his system, completely giddy. Cassie stretched out her voice with Maya and Rico nearby, all of them smiling at the scene. There were kids on shoulders. Families hanging off porches. Dogs barking. The kind of crowd that knew each other and knew Jonah—even if they didn’t know he was about to walk out onto that stage.
He stood just offstage, frozen, staring.
Gabriel nudged him. “You okay, man?”
Jonah was blinking fast, lips pressed together. “That’s Marcus. He’s here. And Dee. And—holy crap, that’s Luis! I haven’t seen him since we graduated. And they’re all—they’re all wearing Feral Eclipse shirts?!”
Thane’s voice came through the in-ear comm. “They’re fans, Jonah. You’re a hero here. Go give ‘em a show.”
Cassie leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. “C’mon, percussion prince. Time to break your own sound barrier.”
The lights flickered. The stage fog spilled low. Jonah stepped up to the kit, heart pounding louder than the kick drum.
The crowd exploded.
From the second they kicked into the opening song, the neighborhood turned into a riot of joy. Jonah’s friends were front row, screaming the lyrics, arms in the air, jumping so hard the barricade flexed. Marcus held up a cardboard sign that read “FROM MILK CRATES TO LEGEND” with duct-tape lettering. Luis was air-drumming in perfect sync—he remembered every fill.
Rico let loose a searing solo and the whole front row threw up the devil horns. Maya barked into her mic with fire. Cassie pointed straight at Jonah’s old crew mid-song and shouted, “This one’s for the ones who never gave up!” And Jonah… Jonah was flying.
Each beat hit like a memory. Each crash cymbal was a chapter closing. He was crying halfway through the second song and didn’t care who saw. His friends chanted his name between songs. Even the older neighbors, who used to yell at him for “making too much racket,” were clapping along.
They played a full set. No holding back. Even slipped Burn the Brakes into the encore, because the crowd demanded chaos. By the time the final chorus hit and Jonah flung a stick into the crowd, the entire block looked like it had survived a rock ‘n roll hurricane.
Backstage was a makeshift area under an old gazebo strung with café lights. The band sprawled out on folding chairs, sweaty and glowing.
Jonah sat in the middle of it all, a paper plate of barbecue in one hand, and a nearly-empty bottle of soda in the other. He hadn’t stopped smiling in over an hour.
His friends filtered in slowly, one by one. Marcus gave him a bone-crushing hug. “Bro. You didn’t just make it—you brought us with you.”
Luis laughed, wiping his eyes. “You used to bang on trash cans outside this rec center. Now you’re making the pavement shake!”
Dee shoved a wristband in his face. “You gave us ALL ACCESS? You serious right now?”
“I told them to treat you like royalty,” Thane said from the edge of the circle, crossing his arms with a small grin. “You deserve it.”
Mark nodded once, standing beside him. “We take care of our own.”
Cassie passed Jonah a warm towel and a bottle of water. “You just baptized Columbus in rhythm, dude.”
Jonah looked around, eyes shining. “This… this is the best night of my life.”
Gabriel dropped into the seat beside him, bouncing a leg with leftover adrenaline. “So. We thinking Columbus gets its own leg of the next tour?”
Jonah burst out laughing, shaking his head. “You maniacs. You actually did this.”
“We’re pack,” Gabriel said, bumping shoulders with him. “This is what we do.”
As the night settled in and the stars blinked on over the skyline, laughter and music drifted from the gazebo. Friends reconnected. Bandmates rested their bones. And Jonah, once just a broke kid with a dream, now sat surrounded by love, sound, and everything he never thought he’d have.
And somewhere in the distance, a group of neighborhood kids banged on trash cans like drums, just loud enough for Jonah to hear.
He smiled.