The Lyric Crown was long behind them now. The tour bus rolled quiet through the night, somewhere along a winding Kentucky backroad. City lights had faded into stars, and only the low hum of the wheels and the occasional yawn broke the silence inside.

The band was scattered around the lounge in a rare moment of calm—no caffeine-fueled antics, no cable coils being juggled, no thundering kick drum coming from the back lounge. Just the soft glow of the overhead LEDs and the flicker of the highway beneath them.

Jonah sat with his legs curled up on one of the couches, hoodie pulled halfway over his face, earbuds in but not playing anything. Cassie lounged across from him, lazily scrolling her phone.

“Victor is trending,” she said softly.

Gabriel perked up from where he was sitting crisscross on the floor, nursing a mug of espresso like it was soup. “Victor is trending? Please tell me it’s not because I tried to summon him onstage.”

Cassie smirked. “Fancam videos, Gabriel. That last bass drop? The strobe hit? People think you did summon him.”

Thane, seated at the table with his laptop open, glanced up. “To be fair, it did look rehearsed. Like… insanely rehearsed.”

“I didn’t even touch the cue,” Mark said from his usual spot in the corner, arms crossed, eyes closed. “It wasn’t mine.”

Gabriel leaned back, tail thumping the floor lightly. “I told you Victor was real. I felt a presence. Like stage manager energy, but with unfinished business and dramatic flair.”

Jonah chuckled under his breath. “If Victor had unfinished business, I think it was running our lights better than any of us could.”

Rico wandered in with a half-eaten bag of chips. “I watched a video someone uploaded from the balcony. There’s this weird shadow in the background when the lights hit red. Right where Toni said he used to sit.”

Everyone went quiet for a moment.

Even Diesel, still up front behind the wheel, called back over his shoulder. “All I’m saying is, if the ghost wants a roadie slot, he better not mess with my coffee maker.”

Gabriel sipped dramatically from his mug. “Victor would never mess with the coffee. He respects the grind.”

Mark, without opening his eyes, added, “If he wires his own DMX cues again, I’m going to start charging him union rates.”

Thane laughed softly, then leaned back in his seat. “It was weird. But it worked. That show was electric. One of the best we’ve ever done.”

“Because of Victor?” Jonah asked.

Thane paused, then shrugged. “Maybe. Or maybe we just believed something special was happening. And that made us play like it was.”

Silence settled over the group again. Outside, the trees blurred past like soft shadows in the moonlight.

Then Gabriel whispered, “Do you think if we say his name again, he’ll follow us?”

Cassie threw a pillow at him. “Gabriel. No.”