Page 100 of Two Hit Wonder

"Left pocket," Ellie said without looking up.

Cam checked. "Oh. Thanks."

"What would you do without me?" Ellie grinned.

"Lose more things, probably," said Cam.

A tech squeezed past them, wheeling an amp that looked older than Iona. Somewhere outside, the previous act was finishing their set, the bass vibrating through the concrete floor. A woman with a clipboard appeared, frowned at something on her phone, and disappeared again.

And then there was Maeve, standing slightly apart from the rest of them, arms crossed. She looked terrifying. Genuinely terrifying. Tall and fierce and radiating an energy that suggested anyone who got in her way might regret it. But Iona knew her now. Knew that the fierceness was armor, and the silence was fear, and the woman underneath it all was someone worth every moment of chaos it had taken to get here.

"Ten minutes," said someone with a clipboard, sticking their head around the door. "Places in ten."

Ten minutes. Iona's stomach clenched. "Right," she said, more to herself than anyone else. "Right. Okay."

"Inspirational speech time," Cam muttered. "Really feeling the leadership."

"Shut up," Ellie said, but kindly.

"Make me."

They grinned at each other, and for a second Iona felt something settle. They were still them. Still ridiculous. Still completely unprepared for any of this. Just like the first time.

Except it wasn't like the first time. They were older. Wiser, possibly, though Cam's continued existence suggested wisdom wasn't evenly distributed. They'd survived marriages and divorces and diagnoses and fifteen years of not speaking, and they were still here. Still together.

Iona thought about how far they'd come. The restaurant in Soho where Cam had confessed to being broke. The cottage in Scotland where Maeve had slammed a door in her face. The rehearsal rooms and the arguments and the moments where it had all felt impossible.

And now here they were. About to walk onto the main stage at Lakeside.

"My mum's out there somewhere," Cam said suddenly. "She called earlier. Said she'd brought her opera glasses." She paused. "I didn't even know she owned opera glasses."

"That's sweet," Ellie said.

"It's terrifying. She's going to have opinions. You know how she gets."

"Your mum loves you," Iona said. "She's allowed to have opinions."

"She's going to tell me my drumming was 'energetic.' That's what she says when she thinks I was too fast."

"You are too fast," Maeve said. "You've always been too fast."

"See, that's different. That's just rude. Rude I can handle."

Maeve caught Iona's eye.

Something passed between them. Not a conversation, exactly. More like an acknowledgment. An ‘I know and a me too and a here we go’, all in a single glance. Iona wanted to say something, but there were no words for this. For being here, together, after everything.

She settled for nodding slightly. Maeve nodded back.

"Five minutes."

They gathered their things. Cam bounced on her heels like she might actually achieve liftoff. Ellie straightened from the road case with careful precision. Maeve uncrossed her arms and rolled her shoulders, and Iona saw her jaw set in that way it did when she was steeling herself for something.

"Places, please. You're on in two."

The walk to the stage felt both endless and far too short. The noise from the crowd was already deafening, a wall of sound that hit Iona's chest like a physical thing. She could see the edge of the stage, the lights beyond, the mass of people stretching back into the afternoon sun.

Forty thousand people.