Hookup ✓ [MikhAiah] [Book #3]

44

—🦊—

The final chord rings out, the last note hanging in the air like a promise as I press my fingers firmly on the strings. The crowd erupts in cheers, their voices blending into a symphony of appreciation that makes my chest tighten with pride. A wide smile breaks across my face, the kind of smile that feels natural, unforced. This is what I worked so hard for. This moment.

But it's not just my hard work that brought me here—it's her. My thoughts linger on Aira as my eyes scan the crowd, weaving through countless faces illuminated by the soft glow of the stage lights. I take it all in—the cheering fans, the supportive energy radiating from the audience—but when my gaze shifts to the tent, the faces become more familiar.

Chase. Gale. Johanne. Yves. Even the King and Queen are there, their expressions proud. Yet there's one face missing.

No Aira.

The anxiety creeps in slowly at first, like a faint chill in the air, but it grows heavier, faster, clawing at my chest. I swallow the unease and force my lips into a polite smile. The show must go on.

"Thank you for having me, Batangas!" I say, my voice ringing out through the mic, strong and steady. The crowd's roar grows louder, shaking the stage beneath me as I stand from the stool. I unplug the amplifiers from my guitar, every movement deliberate and precise, masking the turmoil bubbling beneath my surface.

As the curtain falls behind me, muffling the crowd's cheers, I don't wait. I jog toward the stairs leading backstage, pulling off my mic pack and handing it to a crew member without slowing down. My heart races—not from the performance but from the gnawing feeling of absence.

I reach the waiting room, and with a burst of urgency, I swing the door open. Empty.

"Where did she go..." The words slip out in a whisper, the weight of them pressing against my chest.

Without wasting another second, I turn and head for the backstage door, hope clinging to me like a lifeline. Maybe someone saw her. Someone has to know where she went.

I burst into the tent, greeted by a chorus of excited voices. Gale is the first to approach, her grin wide as she grabs both of my hands. "Galing mo, Miks!"

"Thank you, but have you guys seen Air—"

"Grabe ka na pag-inlove!" Johanne teases, cutting me off, her voice light with mischief.

I clench my jaw, forcing patience. "Thank you, but nakita niyo ba si Aira?"

Their smiles falter as they exchange uncertain glances. "No? Baka nag-CR lang?" Yves offers with a shrug.

Clicking my tongue in frustration, I glance around the group, searching for any sign of her. Nothing. "I'll look for her," I mutter, the words sharper than I intend as I turn and head back toward the backstage door.

Her name echoes in my mind, a constant refrain that drives my steps. Aira. Aira. Aira.

"Miki!" Chase's voice cuts through the haze, sharp and clear.

"Not now, Chase," I reply, my tone clipped as I continue walking.

She grabs my arm, her grip firm enough to stop me. "Here."