“¡Mierda!” Cam yelps. “My nipples disagree. They’re telling me it’s negative 13,000 degrees out here.”
“We can head inside—”
“Hell no. Let’s find the money shot.”
We pick our way through the crowd, vying for the best viewing area. By the time we find an ideal spot away from the masses, Cam is shivering so hard her teeth are chattering. I hold out the blanket. “Here. You’re gonna vibrate off the mountain.”
She wraps it around herself, shoulders still shaking. I do my best to ignore the human earthquake, but less than a minute later, I cave.
“C’mere,” I say before my overthinking kicks in. “Body heat is more efficient if we share.”
Standing side by side, we try sharing a blanket that was apparently made for hobbits. Every time we get one side covered, the opposite side flaps open like a cape in the wind.
“This isn’t working,” she laughs.
“For fuck’s sake…” I step behind her, wrapping the blanket around us and pulling her against my chest. “Only until our fingers thaw enough to hold the camera.”
She doesn’t argue, just melts into me—like she was made to fit under my chin. And then—
Sweet mother of fuck.
The sky cracks open like God himself is putting on a show.
The initial brilliant streaks burst over the horizon, setting the clouds on fire.
Colors I’ve never seen in my life, colors that probably don’t even have names, explode across the heavens in a symphony of light. Orange bleeds into rose gold, violet weaves through amber, and the clouds below us—holy shit, we’re above the clouds—morph into a sea of liquid sunshine. We’re literally standing at the edge of heaven, watching the sun ascend into existence like we’re witnessing the first dawn of time.
Goddammit. Kai was right.
The crowd around us falls into reverent silence, and for once, I have nothing negative to say. Because I’m standing here, Cam pressed against me, watching something bigger than all of us.
And then—
A realization cracks me on the head—blunt, hard, and impossible to ignore.
Yesterday, stripped down and on full display for that art class, I was…
Reckless. Dangerous. Irresponsible. And I fucking loved it!
Yesterday wasn’t just another stunt for the fans—it was for her. But I didn’t realize it would stir something up, something I can’t shake. Being uncomfortable and pushing boundaries—it reignited a fire in my soul.
For the first time in years, I felt free. I felt like me again.
Themewho used to come up with the most batshit stunts imaginable and then spend hours pulling them off.
Themewho lived for the adrenaline of the unknown—the thrill of testing limits, of knowing something could go horribly wrong but doing it anyway.
I didn’t give a shit what people thought because I was too busy having fun.
The fact that it turned into a career, that it paid for Mama’s treatments? That was a miracle.
When did I lose that love for filming?
Gordon. All talk, no talent. The king of smoke and mirrors. More sizzle than steak.
He strutted into my life with promises of global domination—so much bullshit, it had its own gravitational pull. “You could be bigger than PewDiePie,” he said, and like an idiot, I’d bought it. Hook, line, and designer sneaker.
And to his credit, he wasn’t wrong. For a while there, I was untouchable.
