She was your Stevie, wasn’t she? But there were moments, like this one, when you wondered if she really was. The way Lindsey leaned towards her, how Mick made jokes that drew out her genuine laughter, even how Christine gave her knowing looks while tuning her piano. Stevie was the center of it all, like a sun around which everyone gravitated.

And you... you were just another planet.

They were girlfriends, two brilliant women connected by something so deep it didn’t need words. But there were days when that connection felt more fragile, when you felt like you were sharing Stevie with the rest of the world. She was always surrounded by someone: the members of Fleetwood Mac, the crew, the fans. It was as if her love for you was buried beneath everything else.

Insecurity gnawed at you. What if someone else managed to steal a piece of her heart?

Stevie, as if sensing your gaze, turned her head towards you. Her eyes gleamed under the soft light of the dressing room, and her smile softened when it met yours. She stepped closer, leaving Lindsey and the others behind, until her sweet perfume of incense and flowers filled the space between you.

“Hey, are you okay?” she asked softly, her fingers sliding lightly over your wrist. “Are you jealous?” Her tone wasn’t mocking but filled with tenderness.