A deafening, collective roar erupted from twenty thousand throats all at once. The floor beneath my feet literally shook with the sound.
In the sudden pitch black, a hand reached out and grabbed my wrist.
It wasn't gentle, and it wasn't romantic, it was just pure, electric excitement. Cyan's fingers locked around my skin, tight and warm.
"They're starting!" he shouted over the noise.
A massive, white light flashed from the center of the stage, followed immediately by a heavy, thunderous guitar riff that hit my chest like a physical blow. The crowd surged forward. People on the VIP platform pushed closer to the rail, jostling us from behind.
Someone bumped heavily into Cyan's side. He stumbled slightly, losing his balance on those ridiculous heels.
Without thinking, my hand moved. I caught him by the side of his waist, my palm pressing against the soft, bare skin exposed beneath his mesh top, steadying him before he could fall.
