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Zach Knight isn’t allowed normal human emotions when people are watching. No one in Saturday is.
I’ve noticed Ruben does this a lot. It’s like he never trusts his first thought.
I never knew “unconditional” before Saturday.
The thing about your dreams coming true is that, for a gold-spun moment, you catch a glimpse of what life could be like. Then when you lose it, and you crash back to reality, it’s from such a great height, all you can do is lie there, winded and bruised, while you come to terms with the idea that a happiness like that isn’t meant for you. It never was.
All these lies, and I don’t even know why I’m saying them. I glance around. The room is dark, and still. I’m totally alone.
If they ignore it, we have to. Synchronized, choreographed denial.
“I’m a quarter gone. I’m half gone. I’m three-quarters gone. I’m all gone.”
And it might be the heat of it all, or the adrenaline rush, but somewhere in my swirling mind, a thought flickers. A thought about Zach, and how necessary he’s started to feel in such a short span of time. Like he’s the thing keeping me tethered to the ground. Like if I were to lose him, I might have lost the most important, urgent thing to ever happen to me. But it’s just a swirling thought.
I do know I’ll do whatever I have to do to protect this.
The night our whole world falls apart, I spend most of our concert lost in thought.
as he screams out the name of someone he knew as a young boy.
I don’t want air, and I don’t need it. I don’t mind being crushed.
He’s safe. Okay. But— Angel’s lying on the road, and he’s not moving.
The screams don’t fade as the guard steers me firmly to the refuge of the hotel. It doesn’t matter how far away we get. The screams don’t fade.
I wonder if he even cares about Angel. Or any of us, beyond our value to his company. I wish I could tell myself that he does. But I don’t think I can anymore.
It feels like we’re in the air for a lifetime—
Maybe we’re just hanging motionless, suspended in one place, and we’ll never get back home at all. Maybe waiting, and sitting in our grief, is all there is now.
He must have sent it while the plane was still grounded. Hey. I miss you. And despite the heavy ache in my chest, I smile.
overdrive
Jon’s meant to flirt with the audience. Angel’s meant to keep his microphone on his stand, and to smile as much as possible. I’ve been instructed to take mine off and hover toward the back of the group, with an emphasis on moves like kicking off the floor to propel myself backward and running my hands through my hair. Zach’s meant to wave to the nosebleed section and reach out to them while crouching down. But Valeria can’t make us do anything right now.
At the crux of it, everyone wants the world to see them as they are. The truth isn’t the problem. The problem is that the world doesn’t always make the truth safe for us to share.
It’s not going to be okay, or good. It’s going to be great.
