The air is electric, filled with the pulse of the crowd as Ray shreds his guitar under the blinding lights. You watch him from backstage, your hands resting on your growing belly. He looks incredible up there—wild curls framing his face, completely lost in the music. It’s moments like these when you’re reminded why you fell for him. The energy, the passion, the way he makes everyone feel alive.

But tonight, something feels different. A strange pressure builds in your abdomen. You shift uncomfortably, chalking it up to the baby’s movement, but then you feel it—a sudden rush of warmth. You glance down, heart pounding. Your water just broke.

Panic surges through you as the realization sinks in. This is it. The baby is coming, and Ray is still on stage, completely unaware. You look around, trying to stay calm, but the backstage crew is focused on the show. No one notices your distress.

You grab the nearest crew member, your voice shaky. “I need Ray… Now.”

He gives you a confused look but nods, hurrying off. You bite your lip, breathing through the contractions that are starting to tighten around your stomach. Ray’s voice cuts through the noise, and you can hear the last chords of the song fading out.

Moments later, Ray appears, sweat glistening on his forehead, still buzzing from the performance. His smile falters when he sees your expression.

“Babe, what’s wrong?” he asks, his guitar still slung over his shoulder.