The lights had faded, the last echoes of the crowd’s howling still vibrating somewhere in the canyon air. Backstage, it smelled like fog fluid, adrenaline, and triumph. Everyone was drenched, exhausted, and glowing like they’d just walked away from the best storm of their lives.
Guitar cases were leaned against folding chairs. Cassie collapsed on the couch and kicked her boots off. Jonah chugged half a bottle of Gatorade, then dumped the rest over his head like he’d won the Super Bowl.
Gabriel paced back and forth near the drink cooler, still riding the aftershock—tail swishing behind him, claws twitching to the ghost of the last note. Mark was in his usual chair, arms crossed, eyes closed like he wasn’t listening—but totally was.
And Thane?
He was over by his rig, slowly packing down the console, deliberate as always. Calm. Controlled. Every motion helping him bleed off the pulse still rattling in his chest.
That’s when Rico walked in, towel around his shoulders, brows furrowed slightly.
“Hey… I gotta ask,” he said, looking around at the group. “That spotlight at the top of the show… the one that hit Thane?”
Mark’s eyes opened, just barely. Cassie froze, halfway through peeling off her wrist tape.
Even Maya, who was scrolling through fan posts on her phone, stopped.
It got quiet.
Rico looked between them, caught the shift, and immediately sensed he’d stepped on something… weird.
“I mean, no offense or anything,” he added quickly. “It just—he’s always offstage. It surprised me, that’s all.”
Mark’s lips pressed together in a flat line.
Before he could say a word, Gabriel turned around.
“No,” he said gently. “It’s a fair question.”
He walked over and leaned against the table near Rico, tail resting still for once.
“That light?” Gabriel said. “That wasn’t for show. That was us saying ‘you don’t see him — but he’s why you see us.’”
Rico blinked. “But he never —”
“He doesn’t need to be onstage to lead,” Gabriel cut in. “He doesn’t chase the spotlight. That’s not his way. But tonight? He earned that beam. Every second of it.”
Gabriel glanced over at Thane, who hadn’t turned around. Still working. Still calm.
Then he looked back at Rico.
“He holds the walls up while the rest of us scream from the top of ‘em. You shine a light on that… just once… so everyone knows he’s there.”
Mark grunted softly. “That’s more words than I would’ve used.”
Cassie finally smiled, low and tired. “You say it best when you say nothing, Mark.”
Rico nodded slowly. “Alright. I get it now.”
Gabriel patted his shoulder. “Good. But don’t bring it up again. Seriously. That glare from Thane has permanent side effects.”
From the far end of the room, Thane quietly snapped the lid closed on the mixer case—and did not say a word.
But he did give Gabriel a sideways glance.
And just the slightest nod.