Flicker

Epilogue

The screams of our fans follow us off the stage as the last few notes of After the Show petered out.

Blair's waiting in our dressing room and stands up the moment he sees us, a huge smile spread across his face.
"I'm so proud of all of you!" He takes us all in for a hug, despite the sweat and water soaking our clothes from the amount of energy we all spent on the stage.

Our band account had put out it's first tickets just weeks ago, and somehow we'd filled the venue. Roadtrip's first ever show, in London at the 02 Academy Islington , will take place on July 24th, 2018. Get your tickets now! Each of our social medias had the post with the link. And now, we'd completed the show. The first show on our tour - a small one around major cities in the UK, but it was the start.

'That was amazing!' Rye shouted, Brook on his back, for some reason. Though I couldn't blame them for being rowdy.

We'd found Rye a while back, promising, talented, and he fit the bill perfectly. He got on amazingly well with every single one of us, and we knew that he was the missing piece.

"And our first show!" Mikey adds, reaching for my hand. He leans over to whisper in my ear. "Not yours though, is it." He kisses my neck and laughs as I swat him away. Suddenly there's a loud pop as a bottle of champagne is opened, Blair pouring it into glasses. They're not fancy ones, by any means, but that's the tiniest thing in this moment.

"Give me one of them right now," Jack says, makes grabby hands for a glass. It makes us all laugh, remembering that Jack's just old enough to drink.

"Not too much, Mister," Rye jokes, slaps Jack's outstretched hands away. Before long, Rye and Jack are having a wrestling match in the corner, with Brooklyn recording it and giggling like an idiot in the background.

I step into Mikey's side, his arm around me, and I rest my head on his shoulder.

"We did good Mikey," I whisper, tilt my head upward.

He looked down and smiled, pecked my lips. "That we did."

"Boys... Boys! Stop fighting!" Blair yells. Within seconds Jack and Rye are on their feet, and Brooklyn's still recording, muffling his giggles with his hand.

Blair threatens to take away the champagne unless they calm down. Mikey and I just sat there, hands intertwined, laughing softly at them. We watch as the kids start to settle down, their bodies quickly shutting down from the spent energy during the show. They all disperse and sit down around the room, and Blair hands each individual person a glass, full to the brim. We all take a few sips, heads resting exhaustedly against the wall. There's a small smile on each of our faces.

Mikey raises his glass, arm around my waist, proud expression on his face.

"To us."