My ears were roaring so loudly the only sound I could make out was the steady and quick thumping of my rapid heartbeat in my chest, threatening to beat right out of it.

Over a few hundred shows, and this still never got any easier.

"Kade, just wanted to let you know your brother redeemed two tickets tonight, but he just texted and said he wasn't going to be able to make it," my manager informed me, eyes firmly latched onto the iPad in her hand not once looking up.

"Rich? If he wasn't coming, why did he use two tickets?"

"They're for his friends. His girlfriend is coming too. Just thought I'd let you know."

"Thanks Jackie."

Thoughts of my half-brother distracted me enough to pull me out of my performance fog.

I lounged back on the couch in the back room behind the stage where I'd been getting my voice ready, looking over my adapted lyrics one final time before just accepting the fact that I was actually going to do it—I was stealing someone's lyrics as my own.

I'd asked Corbin to try and track down the singer and/or the creator just in case the two weren't mutually exclusive and no luck. He assumed I'd dropped it and would be performing a song I wrote—which wasn't technically wrong.

I'd adapted some of the lyrics and added in a different second verse, but it was still intellectual property theft, but still...who would send in a demo and forget to put their name on it? To put any kind of stamp on it that would let the artist know who to contact if they wanted their material...it made no sense.

I cleared my throat after drinking some throat coating tea with a few drops of my herbal supplement that helped the elasticity of my vocal cords.

The crowd was chanting; a broken cacophony of my name leaving their lips while a war raged on inside of my head.

Fuck it. I was going to do it.

I placed the plastic in-ear piece into one ear and left the other dangling on my shoulder as having both in never suited me well in a smaller concert venue.

In a stadium? Hell yes, I was going to wear both in-ears, otherwise I'd be off key the entire time and no one wanted to listen to that, but here, in the intimate space with less than five hundred people, I was going for a more laid back, acoustic feel than anything else.

The rush of the crowd waiting for me bled into my bones and I basked in it backstage for a few moments before my bandmates clapped me on the back and took their spots behind the curtain.

It was a small venue; one generally reserved for musicals and the odd campaign rally that was held here last month, but that didn't mean that it couldn't hold the potential for a hell of a concert.

Despite the reservations that I had against performing so soon after my sister's attempt and what had happened with her ex, I knew that I needed to suck it up and pull my best face on in order to impress the rep from my record label that was no doubt lurking around in the back if I wanted any chance of staying on at that label.

My contract allowed them to drop me at will, and despite the fact that I was surging in popularity in the media, that didn't always translate to sales.

The dollar sign was all they cared about in the end, anyway.

The instrumental started and I walked out onto the stage into the bright floodlights that nearly blinded me.

I could only make out the silhouettes of people in the crowd—not their faces, their smiles, nothing.

And maybe that was a good thing.

The house lights were down and I reached my mark in the middle of the stage, grabbing my guitar from the stand beside the stool I was going to be using for most of the night.

Stripped down, bare, intimate, acoustic—this concert was going to be all of these things, and I was glad for that fact as I wasn't going to be running around, attempting to dance like my manager somehow thought would be good for my style.

The first song came after a short introduction, and I could've sworn I heard someone sobbing in the front row despite the raucous noise from my bandmates.

I turned and found Calvin, my guitarist, cringing as he plucked an acoustic guitar alongside me.

Song after song, my chest loosened as my voice strengthened and I geared myself up for my newest song—the only problem was that it wasn't even my song at all.

I took a deep breath and decided that this was going to be the moment. It wasn't in the setlist, as I was going to be playing the guitar and singing only, so I hadn't needed to give my band the chords.

"I'm gonna do something a little different for you guys tonight if that's alright?"

The roar of applause and excitement for just that one sentence was deafening. I couldn't help the smile that crawled onto my mouth at that, either.

Who wouldn't love to be cheered on by hundreds of adoring fans? I just wished they actually knew the man beneath the facade...

"This is called 'Shadows'."

The opening melody was the exact same as the demo. The harmonies, the chords, the rhythm. Everything except that damn hypnotic voice that accompanied the beautiful song.

And then the lyrics began.

I had memorized it after the thirteenth time I'd listened to it, but I still thought back to that very first time I'd heard it and relished in the fact that the crowd was getting to hear it for the first time, not realizing what they were experiencing until the chorus hit.

"Oh these days just haven't been worthwhile— but your name is getting under my skin. In the morning I'll be in the fire—I'll be swimming in the flames tonight."

The guitar plucked a new chord as the pre-chorus built and all the muscles in my body tightened as I released a breath away from the microphone in my face, a bead of sweat rolling down the side of my face as the reality of this was crashing down on me.

"There's a devil in the details now—and it's burning us. When you doused the blaze in gasoline—it's like the dark went out."

My drummer began his ascending down beats until the electric guitar started in on a few stray chords adding to the crescendo of the music that would explode in the middle of the song for the huge bridge, and I smiled to myself as I realized that they didn't even need the chords to follow where the song was going—it was like it had been written in the stars and we were just following it's path in the sky.

I soon added in my own lyrics and they fell together so well I could've kissed the clouds.

"I'm a shadow on the brink of something—can't seem to find another to alight. Maybe we could meet inside of nothing—be together like the stars divine."

Building and building and building—the song swam to newer highs as the crowd buzzed in response to it, but I wasn't feeling pride for myself.

I had known the potential for this song, had known how much it had affected me with her voice, whoever the hell she was, singing back at me over the speakers for hours on end. This was all of those hours culminated in a moment I wouldn't forget until my last breath.

"There's a devil in the details now—and it's burning us. When you doused the blaze in gasoline—it's like the dark went out."

The bass came in heavy and my acoustic guitar bled into the background as the rest of the instruments joined in and Calvin strummed heavily on each down beat, picking up the pace and the energy of the song until my vocals bled out of me in the bridge.

"It's like the dark went out. The night is insincere—your hold is just a whisper—screaming out for me to hear. It's like the dark went out."

"It's like the dark went out."

"It's like the dark went out."

Over and over, the line repeated.

The subject of the song had met their love, had lit up their shadows and turned the lights on in the night so that they could finally see in the dark.

The lyrics had gripped my soul upon first listening to them and I knew the rest of the world had to hear it, too.

It was all a blur, the shot of motion upon the last chord being strummed. The crowd that wasn't already on their feet in the back upper levels surged upwards and applause assaulted my eardrums. I'd never gotten that kind of a reaction from a song an audience had never heard before—usually, they just paid attention politely until they could go home and Google the lyrics until they knew all the words by heart and could scream them aloud at the next concert.

This...this was unheard of.

Floodlights blinded me as the set ended with my first hit that the crowd screamed at the top of their lungs until I went back for a water break and came back out with my newest hit for the encore, but they'd already had their sneak peek to what was coming next.

That is, if I figured out a way to find out the creator of the song and somehow give actual credit where credit was due.

Because, fuck. I'd never heard lyrics so poetically put together for a song that could be considered for pop charts, but somehow it just worked together with the right sounds.

I was handed a towel and patted on the back multiple times by my bandmates and the crew as I left the stage to the thunderous applause still shaking the small auditorium with the crowd's fervor.

"Good job man."

"Good show, Kade."

"Nice work, bro."

"Thank you."

A sea of crew members and people in my employ swarmed me until I couldn't see past the third row of people ahead of me.

"You've got a meet and greet in your room, and then a virtual interview with the Ryan and Beck show, then you're done for the night, but you need to be in bed by midnight because you have a photoshoot with Eddie Veras at seven, so you'll need to be up at least by five."

"Great. Lead the way Jackie."

I had resigned myself to following my manager's lead these days. If I didn't then everything went to hell.

Countless adoring fans with cute t-shirts and signs and CD's and vinyls and posters and photographs and paper and skin and even a tissue for some girl who didn't have anything for me to sign and then I was free—shoved into a small back room with a window overlooking the city beyond me to do my interview.

They asked about the new singles from my EP that would be dropping in a month that would lead up to my fourth full length album and once they were done with the work questions, everything became more invasive.

They wanted to know about my love life. We played a game called 'Two Truths and a Lie' and I hadn't come up with anything beforehand so I was just grasping at straws.

They wanted to talk about my sister. They laughed off my silence and cut to a video of my last show where a fan had thrown her bra at my face. We talked some more about hints for a new tour and then that was that.

I wanted to go throw up somewhere to get that bad taste out of my mouth. I hated doing their show.

I slammed the laptop closed and quickly ran to my dressing room to change into simple black jeans and a t-shirt that didn't have dried sweat stuck to them from the heat of the lights and nerves from the show and threw on a black ball cap.

"Ready to go, Kade?"

"Yeah, thanks Hollin."

My bodyguard of six years fell in step beside me, calling the driver to bring the car around to the back exit.

It had been two hours since the show had ended, so hopefully there weren't any extremely rabid fans lurking nearby.

I fished some gummy worms from my pocket that one girl had given to me after hearing it was my favorite snack. I'd posed for a few extra pictures with her for that one.

I had just thrown the third gummy worm into my mouth when the slam of a door and loud voices caught my attention.

"No, you're not listening to me. I'm not some crazy stalker, I—"

"Ma'am, I don't care who you are. I cannot let you get anywhere near him. Please back up."

"You can either let me speak to him now, or he'll be hearing from my lawyer in the morning. I'm hoping this was all just some kind of mix-up, but I'm not scared to take someone like him to court for this."

Ice filled my veins. Was this it? So soon?

I shoved past Hollin, his dark eyes questioning me but let me go ahead anyway while staying close by.

I had no idea how they'd gotten to this secluded area cordoned off by security hired by the venue in the first place, but this was it. This was the reckoning, and I refused to get on this person's bad side.

I had just made it to the door when paparazzi slammed into the barricade that was to keep any curious fans from finding out my location.

Great. Just great.

I had just caught a glimpse of startlingly brilliant red hair and an equally beautiful face to match when the screaming commenced.

"Kade, what do you think about what happened to your sister?"

"What happened with Graham? Did he try to kill her?"

"Is it true she tried to kill herself?"

"Is she really in a mental hospital?"

I turned to Hollin, the mystery girl forgotten even as a pit the size of Texas formed in my stomach at the thought of ignoring her. Somehow I knew it was the person who'd written that song—but I couldn't stay and listen to this. I just couldn't.

"Get me out of here."

"Already on it."

He shielded me from the brunt of the accusatory screams and a piece of my heart broke in my chest for what they were saying about my little sister—the one person I'd vowed to protect always with my life no matter what.

"You know that song isn't yours!"

That seemed to shock the rest of the photographers and a few even turned to her to ask her what she was talking about, but another voice joined the fray and my soul burned a deep blaze of fire.

"Stealing songs? Wouldn't surprise me. Once an asshole, always an asshole, right Kade?"

I tore myself from Hollin's grip with something like an animalistic scream until I was standing directly on the other side of the thin police barrier. It was short, white, and someone could climb over it if they had the desire to—it was the guards stationed there that kept them at bay—mostly.

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

My voice surprised even me. There was no way that had come from my mouth, had it?"

My nose was pressed to his. We were the same height, same build. Evenly matched.

Except I was angrier.

There was a rage swimming underneath the confines of my skin begging to tear itself free and I wasn't opposed to letting it come out to play on this asshole's face.

"Come on, bro. You're not gonna give this poor girl credit for her own song? Dick move."

I didn't shift my gaze to the girl to his right, but I could feel the heat of her angry stare impaling me with its strength.

"You should be rotting in a prison cell right about now. What happened—mommy and daddy bail you out already?"

His sneer morphed into a mocking glare.

"Kade! Kade, are you going to fight your sister's ex boyfriend?"

"Is the reason she tried to kill herself?"

"Just—just shut the fuck up!"

My arm moved of its own accord. I didn't mean to. I didn't know how it happened.

One second, the photographer's huge camera with the large flash contraption was shoved in my face, and the next it was smashed to pieces on the ground.

That sent the rest of them into a frenzy. Because, of course it did.

Rule number one of being followed by them—do. not. engage.

It didn't matter what they told you, how they tried to goad you. None of it mattered.

"Hollin, I—"

"Already on it, but I'm not sure I can get all the photos."

Because, of course, a crowd of amateur celebrity stalkers were standing around in a crowd that was steadily growing, camera phones out and recording with the bright flash never letting up.

Panic bled into my veins as I realized the severity of the situation I was in.

I had to get out of there—now.

I started to back away, even as the fire burned beneath my flesh and begged me to lay into Graham with everything inside of me, but I held back. Somehow.

I had just allowed Hollin to drag me back when Graham started up again.

"It's not my fault your sister's a crazy bitch and didn't know when to shut her mouth."

Something intrinsically human snapped inside of me, and I lunged forward like a mountain lion leaping forth on its prey.

Graham barely ducked as I slammed my fist into the side of his face and he knocked into the girl at his side.

I watched in horror as her arms flailed and she tried to protect herself, but she went down, and she went down hard.

Graham reached forward to try and pull me by my shirt towards him, but I was already leaning down to try and assess the damage I'd already done.

She stared up at me with big, bright green eyes.

This nameless woman who I was sure had wrote my dream song peeled her lip back with a soundless snarl and gave me the most hate filled look any woman had ever given me.

I reached out to try and help her up but she batted my hands away, trying to get up herself but she cried out in pain as my eyes traveled to her ankle.

It was covered in scrapes and was already starting to swell.

"Hollin—" I began again, but he was already there.

"Ma'am, can I help you up?"

She took my bodyguard's hand reluctantly and let out an adorable squeak as he lifted her directly up and over the barricade.

"That ankle looks rough. Would you want to come with us and get it looked at by one of the best doctors on call? All paid for and no need for insurance or a long E.R. wait."

"Um..."

Her eyes darted back and forth between the body guard and myself, indecision warring in her eyes, something like fear shining back at me in them and if I didn't feel like the worst asshole in the entire world, then it was that look that really drove the point home.

"We can talk in private about what you were trying to talk to me about earlier," I said off to the side, and that seemed to send her anger flaring right back up again.

Of course—this would happen to me with an actual fan who cared enough about my music to come to an intimate concert that most people didn't even know was happening.

Hollin draped a protective arm around her and my eyes skimmed to the small mini dress she was wearing that outlined her curves and I had to practically tear my eyes away as the photographers were shoved back a few steps by the new security guards that had flooded the space from other parts of the auditorium to deal with their disturbance.

Our eyes met once more and the fire brimming in them was enough to singe the hair off my head underneath my ball cap but I held firm, meeting her gaze head on as she let a flicker of hurt wash over her features before masking it and finally flicking her eyes down to the ground.

I sucked in a deep breath when she tore her eyes from mine—it was like she'd stolen the oxygen right from my fucking lungs.

"Fuck you,