“Nah. I think it might be time to dispel some, tease a little light into my life.”

I pluck the spy glasses out of Dev’s hair from where he’s lounged out on the floor. He opens his eyes, long enough to acknowledge me and goes back to visualizing.

When I find where Remi’s guy Nate has set up for the night, I also find Xander. Exactly the two I needed.

Nate trails off when I reach them. “Hey … uh, Adams.”

I flash him a closed-lip smile and slap him on the shoulder, swiping a mic pack. “He’s going to need you.” I dart my eyes to Xander.

“For what?” asks the puppy.

“My solo interview. I changed my mind. I wanna do it now.”

He shakes his head. “I haven’t set up the backdrop yet. We won’t have time before you play.”

“We have a backdrop ready to go. Now grab your camera and meet me center stage. Nate, you’re with me. I need you to catch audio for me.”

They exchange unnerved glances before I walk away, but I almost forget a key element and spin, still going. “And get Remi on a call. I want her asking the questions.”

Nate’s grabbing at equipment when I flip around, sliding the spy glasses on. Turning them on, I glance to check he follows so they can pair the audio with the video later. Once we reach the stage, I wait for him.

“Set up wherever, so long as I’m in range out there.”

“Yeah!” His voice cracks. “You got it.” He lowers to the floor with the receiver and recorder, and then he’s slinging his headphones into place. “We’re recording.”

I nod, throat drying. I gauge whether the tightening in my chest is a sailor’s knot or noose. The question is whether I’m about to stabilize after all this time or destroy something I can’t get back.

A sense of serenity joins the fray when I realize they’ve become the same thing. Two ends to the same rope.

The stage lights are off when I walk on, but no one needs them. And they fucking lose it. I stop center stage and wave before doing a 180. When I drop onto my ass, I lean back and brace on my palm, then slip off the glasses, turn them, and angle so the camera captures me along with the crowd behind me.

The Adams becomes clearer and louder, my name pulsing. The mic won’t pick it up, so if Remi decides to use this, she’ll need to overlay another recording, but I hear it. I always hear it.

“I’ll never get used to this,” I tell the camera.