After the End: Book 3

33. Bold and Stupid

Louis POV

To the side of the stage in the backstage zone, there was a narrow staircase that had always wiggled just enough to make me uneasy. There was also a large bold Do Not Enter sign that Harry and I had to climb over in order to access them, which only added to the slight feeling of peril. I imagined the climb would be a bit more difficult now that I was no longer a teenager, but I'd already committed.

I waited for the stage crew members to walk out of sight and then dragged Becca that way, hand in hand while she rushed behind me in her heels. When we reached the stairs, I shoved my fancy leather shoes off my feet so that I had less of a risk of sliding and she did the same with her heels, following my lead. Then we hopped the barrier and started up the stairs. My balance was a little wonky. I could only hold the railing with one hand, my stolen wine bottle clutched in the other as we made the steep climb at a hurried pace. She seemed to be managing well behind me, but I couldn't look back for risk of falling and taking both of us down with me.

The stairs ended at a platform that was only a few feet wide, sitting about 25 feet above stage level to the left of the stage. It was protected by a low railing on two sides and a steep drop on the other. There was a ladder on one of the exposed ends, directly across from where the stairs let up.

Becca climbed up beside me and then eyed it suspiciously.

"How brave are you?" I inquired with raised eyebrows.

"You can't be serious," she said wide eyed.

"You're the one who said confidence was sexy," I argued approaching the ladder.

It at least had tread on the footholds so I wouldn't have to worry about my socks sliding. My slacks weren't exactly designed for climbing, and Becca's dress even less so, but I was already in too deep and the teenage passion that had drawn Harry and I to explore so far in the first place almost a decade ago, pushed me to keep going. I kept the wine bottle clutched in my left fist and used my right hand to steady myself as I continued up the extra 10 feet. It was a slow and wobbly procession, but I could feel the ladder jolt a little as Becca followed me without further complaint.

I reached the top and hauled myself onto the final cat walk. It was about 4 feet wide and stretched the length of the stage. There was another low railing along the back and nothing on the front to keep us from plunging into oblivion if we fell. The platform was just level with several of the stage lights, designed for maintenance workers and stage crew, not for wandering judges and teenage contestants. I turned and saw the view of the entire arena, the rows upon rows of dark empty seats and nearly 40 feet below us, the X-Factor judges seating. We'd be able to see anyone coming from all directions, but as we sat level with and above most of the lights, nobody could see us in the darkness without considerable effort.

I turned just in time to see Becca clamoring her way up onto the platform behind me. She looked confused for a moment, looking around at the sight and taking it all in. Then her gaze landed on me, leaning against the back railing and staring expectantly back for her reaction.

"You're insane," she decided out loud. A grin broke out onto her face. "Absolutely insane."

I rolled my eyes and busied myself with using the edge of one of my house keys to dig out the cork on the wine bottle, popping it out in just a few seconds. I took a drink and then looked up at her with raised eyebrows and offered her the bottle. She accepted it with a smile.

While she sipped from the bottle, I sunk down to sit on the edge of the platform, dangling my legs over the edge the way Harry and I used to do as teenagers.

"We used to watch people rehearse like this," I informed her. "We pretended we were being stealthy and trying to get dirt on our opponents or something, but really we just liked the free show."