The night had begun to wind down.

Back at the gazebo, the laughter still echoed—Thane chatting with Jonah’s friends, Gabriel locked in a heated debate over espresso versus soda with Dee, and Cassie teaching two kids how to shout into a mic without blowing their vocal cords. It was warm, easy, real.

But Jonah had slipped away.

The tour bus was quiet and cool, lit only by the soft glow of the overhead LEDs and the occasional blink of standby gear. He padded up the steps in his worn band hoodie, still smelling faintly of stage sweat and barbecue smoke. He wasn’t sure why he’d come back—maybe just needed a breather from the emotional overload.

As he made his way toward the back lounge, something caught his eye.

Thane’s laptop sat open on the small table near the kitchenette, left behind in the flurry of post-show activity. The screen was still lit. Spreadsheet open.

Jonah glanced at it without thinking… and froze.

Rows of line items. Equipment rental. Venue permit. Temporary stage lighting. Audio truck. Power drops. Catering. Crowd control. Comp passes. All broken down and totaled in meticulous detail.

$110,432.17.
All labeled under the show’s code: “COL-1 / Surprise Hometown Gig.”

His mouth went dry.

“Hey.”

Jonah startled slightly, turning to see Mark standing near the bunks, arms folded, backlit by the blue glow of the exit light. He hadn’t even heard him come in.

“You okay?” Mark asked, quietly.

Jonah looked back at the screen. “You guys paid over a hundred grand to do this show?”

Mark walked in slowly, settling into one of the nearby seats with that same unreadable expression. “Yeah. We did.”

Jonah shook his head. “Why? You could’ve just told me to suck it up and wait for the Columbus leg on the next tour. That would’ve been way cheaper.”

Mark shrugged. “Could’ve. Didn’t want to.”

Jonah sat down heavily across from him. “This… this wasn’t just a favor. That’s —” He gestured helplessly at the screen. “That’s tour-level money. That’s lighting, trucking, insurance, gear. You guys brought everything. For one show.”

Mark looked at him, quiet for a long moment. Then he said, “Because you needed it.”

That simple. That matter-of-fact.

“You give your heart every time you hit the kit. You never complain, never flake, never phone it in. You bleed for this band. Gabriel noticed it first. You were off. You needed a win.”

Jonah’s throat tightened. “But I didn’t ask for this.”

“Exactly,” Mark said. “That’s why it mattered.”

There was silence for a few beats, just the soft hum of the fridge and the click of the cooling fans. Jonah leaned back and rubbed his eyes.

“I… I don’t even know how to say thank you for that.”

“You just did,” Mark replied with a rare smirk. “Besides, Thane’s the one who moved heaven and earth to book that site in two days. Gabriel nearly fought a venue manager over parking. You want to thank someone, start there.”

Jonah looked back at the spreadsheet, then to the bus door.

“…I’ll start with all of them,” he said softly.

Mark nodded once. “Good. But tonight? You enjoy what we built. Because you earned it.”

Jonah stood slowly, shoulders lighter than before. “Thanks, man. For noticing. For caring.”

Mark leaned back, lacing his fingers behind his head. “Don’t mention it. Just keep playing like you did tonight.”

Jonah chuckled. “That was me holding back.”

“Liar.”

They both smiled.