Half Wild, Half Yours

After Show Blues

Backstage wasn’t really backstage—just a narrow hallway behind the curtain where the amps hummed and the sound guy sipped something suspicious from a reusable water bottle—but it felt like the safest place in the world after stepping off that stage.

My heart was still thudding against my ribs. I’d only done four songs, but it felt like I’d just sprinted a marathon barefoot in glitter boots.

“Holy s**t, Blue,” Brody said, wiping sweat off his brow with the hem of his shirt. “You killed that. Seriously.”

“You guys carried me,” I said, even though I couldn’t stop smiling.

Thomas shook his head. “Nah. You brought a vibe. It was different in the best way.”

“You were magnetic,” Teddy added, quieter. I caught the look in his eyes and had to glance away before my knees decided to give out.

The crowd loved it.

But more than that, the guys loved it. And somehow, that mattered most.

“You were nervous earlier,” Brody said, nudging my arm. “Still feel out of place?”

I shook my head, breath hitching on a laugh. “Only a little.”

Thomas clapped me on the shoulder. “Give it one more night and you’ll be more No Name than we are.”

Teddy chuckled. “Not if she keeps showing us up.”

I rolled my eyes, but my cheeks burned all the same. Tyler trotted up then, tail wagging like he’d just finished a set himself. He leaned against my leg, looking pleased with himself—and entirely unbothered by the new fan club forming around him outside.

“He’s such a ladies’ man,” I muttered, bending down to scratch behind his ears.

“Can’t blame him,” Teddy said, one brow raised. “Stage presence must run in the family.”

With a quick reapply of lip gloss and a swig of water, we filed out into the crowd. People clapped us on the back. A couple of girls asked for selfies. Someone told me they’d followed me on t****k just this morning and couldn’t believe they were seeing me live.

It was surreal.

But the best part was watching the next bands go up. We stayed, all four of us sprawled in a booth, cheering obnoxiously and clinking drinks with local fans. Tyler curled up under the table, always close, occasionally soaking up attention from admirers who asked if they could pet him.

The answer was always yes—unless it was a drunk guy. Then Tyler gave them the “I’m watching you” stare and pressed tighter against me.

I looked around at the boys, at the crowd, at the energy still buzzing through my body like leftover lightning—and I knew one thing for sure:

I didn’t feel out of place anymore.

———————————

I’d gotten some great shots—candids of fans in No Name t-shirts, videos of the bands that played after us, and even a moody photo of the bar’s neon sign flickering against the night sky. My phone was working overtime capturing the chaos, the charm, the magic of it all.

And yet… none of it really hit the same.

I was leaning in close, smiling for a photo with a girl in a corset top who said she’d been following me since my van tour video went viral, when it hit me: I was alone.

Not alone alone—I still had Tyler pressed against my legs like a shadow with a tail—but Thomas, Brody, and most importantly Teddy were nowhere to be seen.

I swayed a little, realizing I’d definitely said yes to too many shots—friendly fans insisting on buying me drinks because, in their words, “you’re the girl who sings Goodluck Babe!” And yeah, that was flattering as hell… until the warmth in my chest started feeling a little too warm and the room got a soft-focus blur around the edges.

I muttered something about needing air and slipped toward the door, the bass still thudding behind me as I stepped into the cool San Diego night.

Deep breath.

The salt breeze hit my skin and I closed my eyes for a beat, letting it ground me.

“Okay,” I whispered to no one in particular. Tyler nudged my calf like he understood.

I scanned the sidewalk for somewhere to sit, and that’s when a group of girls near the side entrance waved me over. I didn’t know them, but they were all glitter and fishnets and infectious smiles, and honestly, they looked like a walking Pinterest board.

“Blue, right?” one of them called. Her lipstick was the exact color of dragonfruit and her winged eyeliner could’ve cut glass. “You were so good up there!”

“Come hang out with us!” another added, scooting to make space on the curb.

I smiled and made my way over, settling beside them while Tyler parked himself behind me like my personal bodyguard.

They were sweet. Curious. A little drunk.

They wanted to know where I was from, how I got into music, what Teddy smelled like up close.

I answered with a half-hearted laugh and vague replies, my eyes scanning the parking lot, the sidewalk, the bar’s patio lights for him.

I was trying so hard to be present, to soak it all in and enjoy the post-show buzz. But all I could think was—

Where the hell did he go?

Tyler whined low under his breath, like he could feel it too.

And I didn’t know if it was the whiskey, the adrenaline crash, or the unexpected loneliness—but I missed Teddy.

And I wasn’t ready to admit just how much.