The Reckless Collision

Sam.

~~~

We arrived at La Cigale, Louis parked the bus in front of the building, squeezing it into a short-term parking spot. The band needed time to unload all the equipment, so we had no choice but to make it quick.

The concert hall stood between a retro café and a trendy clothing store, its white exterior blending in yet standing out with its magnificence. The place had a few stories, and the street felt alive with activity. Cars crawled by while people bustled past, and the air was thick with the mingling smells of fresh baked goods and petrol. My empty stomach churned uncomfortably, the contrast almost nauseating.

While the guys were busy unloading, I stepped inside the building, curious to see what made this place special. The interior was breathtaking, more immense than expected, with a rounded design that felt almost like stepping into an arena. Small stairs led down to the main concert hall, where the stage stretched across the back of the room. Above it, a balcony lined with plush red chairs overlooked the space, though it was closed off for tonight. My fingers brushed the cool metal railing as I took it all in.

"It's hard to believe we're actually here," Logan said, his voice echoing slightly in the open space.

"You've done concerts in France before," I reminded him, glancing at his wide-eyed expression.

"Yeah, but not here," he said, his grin spreading as he gestured grandly. "This—" he twirled around dramatically, arms outstretched "—this means we've made it."

I chuckled, the sound bouncing off the walls. "I take it not everyone gets to perform here?"

He stopped spinning and fixed me with an amused look. "Of course not! This is La Cigale. Coldplay has been on this stage. Panic! At the Disco, Paramore—big bands, Sam. And now us." His hands trembled slightly as he spoke, his excitement barely contained.

"You're shaking," I said, placing a hand on his arm. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Logan said, his grin softening. "Just... nervous, I guess. A thousand people bought tickets to see us. It's still hard to believe this is all real."

His blue eyes glistened, and I squeezed his arm reassuringly. "You guys are going to kill it out there. Don't even worry."

"Hey, you two!" James's voice boomed from behind us. "Quit standing around and get to work! We don't have all day."

Logan gave me a sheepish smile before hurrying off to help with the equipment. Meanwhile, I wandered toward the front of the building, where Gabe and I were setting up the merch table near the entrance. The pile of band merchandise seemed endless—T-shirts, hoodies, bracelets, you name it. After we'd arranged most of it, we carried the clothes we'd wear for the event to the dressing room.

By the time we finished, Louis had left with the bus, and there were still two hours before the doors opened. Gabe and I kept busy organizing the Purple Rain merch, but I couldn't help pausing now and then to listen to Ray's voice drifting through the hall as the band rehearsed their set. His voice had this raw, magnetic quality that always made my heart ache in the best way possible.

The music stopped, and a few minutes later, Ray appeared at the merch table. He looked straight at Gabe. "Go help the guys in the hall," he said, jerking his head toward the stage.

"Be nice," I said, grinning as Gabe gave a small huff and walked off.

"Oh, I'm super nice," Ray said, stepping behind the counter. His smile softened as he cupped my face in his hand, leaning down to press a quick kiss to my lips. "I missed you." My stomach growled on cue as his hand rested lightly against it. "We ordered food. You're hungry, right?" he asked, a knowing smirk tugging at his lips.