The Last Firework
At the label showcase, Lily Monroe pointed at the second microphone beside Adrian Vale and asked, "Is this where Mira usually sings with you?"
The room went quiet.
That mic had been mine for seven years.
From dive bars with sticky floors to sold-out theaters, I had stood to Adrian's left for every acoustic closer. I wrote the lyrics, arranged the harmonies, booked the early gigs, and talked club owners into paying us when Adrian was too proud to ask.
Everyone in the band knew that final song was ours.
Adrian had once promised me that when we sold out our first arena, we would sing it together before he announced our engagement.
But Lily only tilted her head and smiled, all nervous charm and