Because, holy shit. Wren had gotten tickets to one of our shows.
Chapter nineteen
Wren's Letter
Hawk,
Holy shit, I am so freaking excited! Because when I tell you I have the very best friend in the entire world, I mean it.
My girl, Sabrina, has pulled off a miracle and gotten us tickets to your show in Minneapolis next month! I don’t know how she did it and, to be honest, I probably don’t really want to know.
I’m so glad you can’t see me right now, because you would think I’m insane. I’m literally vibrating!
The tickets are in the nosebleeds, but that doesn’t even matter. I’m going to rock my fucking face off and everyone in that arena will know it!
Man, I am just so beyond stoked. This is going to be the best birthday ever!
Anyway, when you are on stage in Minneapolis, and you hear one crazy chick screaming from all the way at the back, you’ll know that it’s me.
See you soon, Hawk.
Your fan,
Wren
Chapter twenty
Wren
Fifteen Years Ago
We’dhadtochangebusses two separate times, once in Brainard and again in St. Cloud, but we were finally standing in line at the arena, tickets in hand, waiting to see the greatest band of all time,Black Kite.
“It’s fucking freezing,” Sabrina said, arms crossed over her chest as her teeth chattered.
February in Minnesota was no joke.
“We should have worn pants,” I agreed, my own words sounding stilted as my breath clouded in front of my face. “My fishnets are not winter compatible.”
“But we look hot as fuck,” she reasoned, and I had to agree.
We’d gone all out for the show, with our rock chick outfits completely on point. Sabrina wore a pair of pleather booty shorts, her long, toned legs on display in the biting cold. She’d paired it with a black t-shirt with a picture of a hand flipping the bird and a whole host of silver chains dangling around her neck. Her makeup was dark and sultry, and she looked like every bad boy’s wet dream.
I’d done my best, but with my wardrobe being much smaller than hers, my choices were limited. Somehow, I’d managed to assemble a great outfit consisting of the aforementioned fishnet stockings as well as a pleated plaid skirt and a set of suspenders over aBlack Kitet-shirt that I’d modified with several well-placed tears in the sides and back. Sabrina and I had spent last night adding some chunky red streaks to my blonde hair, and I’d scrounged up a few of the leather bracelets I liked to make and a badass choker that I felt really tied the whole thing together.
All in all, I thought we looked great, and I couldn’t have been more excited.
Once we finally made it to the door and inside the venue—after being checked over thoroughly by security—Bri and I wandered around, scoping out the merch tables while she relentlessly flirted with all the hot guys we passed. I couldn’t believe the crowds; there were twice as many people in the arena as there were in the entire town of Grand Rapids, and the whole thing was a bit overwhelming.
“I wanna get a drink before we hike up to our seats,” Bri said, holding my hand as we wove through the ever-growing crowd of concert goers. “Once I get there, I do not intend to haul my ass back down unless I have to.”
Making our way to one of the concession stands, we joined the back of a stupidly long line, using the wait time to people watch and trying not to let our small-town show too much.
“Hey, you girls here together?” came a voice from behind us, and we turned to see a tall, muscular man looking down at us with an assessing eye.
“Yes,” Sabrina responded immediately. “And our huge, buff, and dangerous boyfriends will be right back, so you better leave us the hell alone.”
I blinked in shock at the quickness of her lie, but the guy just arched an eyebrow.
