I’m out of breath, but I can’t stop now. Not halfway through my third performance of ‘Kiwi’. The crowd is still giving me the energy, which means I have to give it right back.

I drop down onto my knees during the instrumental bit, but keep my momentum with some erratic movements to the beat. Practically slumping over, I take a much needed deep breath, staring out into the crowd. But time isn’t my friend, since the next verse is being counted down in my in-ears.

I jump back up and try to finish out the song strong. Prancing around the stage, I get a quick glimpse of something standing in the wings beside the stage—or someone.

I finally wrangled you into coming to a show, after much pathetic pleading and even more time with my face between your legs. You agreed to come to one show. My final show of this tour, and honestly, I couldn’t be more grateful about it. That way I get to celebrate with my favorite person ever afterward.

Our relationship has been kept pretty private from the world since it started—8 months ago. There’s been small slip-ups here and there, but that’s natural. A blurry photo of us walking down the street, not even holding hands. Us at a some sort of event talking, which could be nothing because you’re a model, not my plus one. Or that one that threatened to break the internet: me walking past your house. The internet swore I was leaving your place at 5 in the morning. Well, because I was, but they didn’t need to know that.

It’s easier this way, no prying eyes or invasive words. Just us in our own little bubble.

The final strum of the guitar and the last slam on the drums rings out through the arena and the crowd goes berserk. Begging for more when I just did my final song three times in a row! Greedy little fans…

I bow with my band and wave my final goodbyes to the crowd, to this tour. My feet carry me slowly toward the wings, not ready yet to say goodbye to this chapter. But as my steps continue, the exhaustion starts to kick in. The light at the end of the tunnel, though? Seeing you standing right at the exit of the stage.

I rush over to you and whisk you up into my arms, holding around your hips and lifting you a few inches off the ground. You squeal and laugh, gripping onto my shoulders even after I set you back down on your feet. My hands leave your hips and move to your face, cradling your cheeks as I lean in and press my lips to yours in a rough kiss.

The crowd behind me screams, as if I was still on stage and just announced that the night was never ending. It confuses me. I pull away from your lips to see what the ruckus is all about.

Shit.

We’re in perfect view of the crowd. Just enough off stage to think we were safe, but not far enough to be completely hidden. They just saw…all of that.

Shit. Shit. Shit.