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***Tristan's POV***

We had three shows left on the tour, all of which were sold out. Before shows I had gotten to the stage of such a high level of anxiety that I simply felt that I could not perform.

I was on the brink of a mental breakdown. It had been over five long months on the road and catching flights all over the globe to play to sold out crowds of thousands.

I was running on under three hours sleep daily, and I found myself falling behind in rehearsal. Whenever we stopped in a new town within America, we hopped straight into the recording studio to record demo tracks for our third album.

The other boys didn't seem to be affected, and they didn't notice how I couldn't keep up. I resorted to spending most of my nights on the tour bus staring at the roof wishing I could be elsewhere. Although I loved performing, I just knew that my heart wasn't in it anymore.

For the past few weeks I had been messaging Mae in an attempt for her help. Despite not receiving any replies, I knew she meant well and was most likely finishing up filming her movie. Although deep down I knew she was still hurting and me messaging her was only going to make it worse, I knew she was the only person who would know how to fix this feeling I had been feeling on tour.

Mae was the only one who knew how to help me when I got anxious and restless like this.

We performed the final two shows before the closing one in New York at Madison Square Garden, which was a career achievement in itself.

I had been counting down to the fifth of March for as long as I could remember because I knew this was the last night I would have to sing my heart out to thousands for a while at least. The boys were already talking about another tour but I knew I didn't have it in me. I tried to fanaticize about what the band could do without a lead singer and whether or not they would make it. The images weren't too bright.

We started the normal pre-show routine before our show in New York. At midday we crowded into the big dressing rooms that the arena provided. We were thankfully given our own dressing rooms. When I entered mine, my eyes melted at the eight foot long couch that was situated against one of the walls, that looked perfect to take a nap on.

I dropped my guitar case beside the door and shut it immediately behind me. I could hear the boys out in the hallway discussing if they were going to have a few beers before the concert. I decided against it – as I had been for the whole tour.

I switched the light off at the light switch beside the door and tore off my leather jacket in the darkness as I maneuvered my way over to where I recalled the couch was. I slumped my body down on the soft cushions and shut my eyes.

I let my eyelids fall heavy and before I knew it I was drifting into a bliss.

A/N The end is near....

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