ᴛᴏᴏ ʏᴏᴜɴɢ » ᴢᴀᴄʜ ʜᴇʀʀᴏɴ

Chapter Seven

March 8, 2018

"What does she want for breakfast?"
   
"She said she doesn't need anything."
   
"What?"
   
"She doesn't want food, Zach."
   
The younger of the two muttered something snarky under his breath. Meanwhile, Corbyn was trying not to laugh at how concerned he was with the matter.
   
Maeve and Keith had gone to the venue in Denver, Colorado early that morning to get a head start on setting up. Corbyn had texted her asking if she wanted him to pick anything up for her when he and the boys went out for breakfast and her response was not sitting well with Zach.
   
He rocked back on forth on his heels, staring at the menu as the other boys ordered ahead of him.
   
"You know," he relayed to Corbyn, "she once told me if given the chance, she would eat every muffin on the planet."
   
Corbyn nodded, letting out a laugh.
   
"She really likes muffins."
   
So Zach made up his mind.

***

Maeve was messing with a few of the purple neon lights, eyes flicking between the stage and the controls to find their perfect position. With seven shows behind her, she was growing accustomed to working with a new system. However, every stage was different and she enjoyed playing around with settings and effects.
   
She was so focused on her work that she didn't hear the boys entering the building from behind her.

Zach's eyes were drawn to her as soon as he walked in. She worked with expert quickness and precision, in her element, fingers moving nimbly with familiar controls.

The others spread out to look at where they'd be performing later on that night as he made his way over to her.

He set what he brought in on the edge of the booth, knocking on the space next to it to draw Maeve's attention. She had just straightened up to survey her work, but glanced over at the sound, first seeing him and then seeing the muffin and cup of iced coffee he had placed on the ledge.

He looked at her expectantly as her head fell to the side, expression softening.

"Zach—"

"Nope," he interrupted. "You run our show; you have to eat."

She wanted to argue, wanted to chide him for buying her food when she told Corbyn she didn't need anything, but the look on his face kept her from doing so. Instead, she walked over, folding her arms to lean against the ledge in front of him.

She glanced down to pick up the muffin, looking over it fondly. Zach couldn't help but laugh. She met his eyes, smiling at the sound.

"Well, thank you. You didn't have to," she said.

"Yes I did," he said.

He shot her a closed-mouth smile, tapped the ledge with his hand, and then stepped away to explore the venue.

***

Maeve had always loved the dark.

Standing alone in the midst of darkness gave her a sense of individuality. Sitting in darkness served as a time to clear her head. Talking to someone in the dark forced her to focus on her emotions and conversation rather than appearances.

She had always loved the dark, but this kind of dark was new to her.

Nearly every light in the venue was out, but it was not silent. Music was booming through the speakers, so loud and so powerful that the bass rumbled in her chest. Raw excitement welled up in her throat, the dim light dulling her sight but heightening every other sense.

The moving crew was in the process of clearing the stage, where the only source of light was coming from. While they were tearing down, Maeve, the boys, and Eben were in the open space of the building. They were running around, jumping about, screaming, yelling, and singing at the top of their lungs. The time for seriousness was finished, and all seven of them were acting out, relieved to be wild for at least a moment. 

Maeve was ecstatic, and she knew the song that was echoing throughout the theater, so she sang the words aloud, something she rarely did unless she was alone.

Zach halted his dancing with Jack when he saw Maeve close to Corbyn, both of them singing along with the music. With a start, he realized he'd never heard her sing.

"Is that Maeve Orland?" he yelled as loud as he could. "Singing?!"

They were close enough that she could just make out what he said. She was peering at him in the dim light, trying to figure out what he was going to do....

Then, he was darting towards her.

Pure instinct drove her to take off in the other direction, screaming for help from Corbyn, who just watched and laughed loudly as Zach sprinted past him.

Her adrenaline was pumping on a high through her veins as she raced around the venue, dodging the five other boys and consistently escaping from the one chasing her. Zach cut corners, yelling at her all the while, but she was surprisingly quick on her feet and he just couldn't get close enough.

Finally, after what seemed like a lifetime of breathless running, they found themselves on opposite sides of the sound booth, staring across at one another.

While Zach was shaking his head at her, heaving deep breaths, she was dancing around a little, taunting him by singing along with the song playing, her eyes blown wide with excitement.

"Orland," he yelled, frustrated, but he was smiling.

"Accept defeat," she called, absolutely grinning.

"That's childish!"

She laughed. The genuineness of the sound made Zach forget how exhausted he felt.

"This whole thing is childish!" she retorted.

His eyes narrowed, the challenge of catching up to her returning to his stance. He moved around the booth bit by bit, as did she. She was actually allowing him get closer, knowing she could get away quickly if needed.

He held her gaze firmly, not hinting at who was creeping up behind her. With a jolt, he bolted towards her. She whirled around to face Eben blocking the way.

"Eben!" she screamed, flailing to get away from him, but Zach was already there, gathering her up in his arms and pulling her off the ground.

"No!" she yelled as loud as she could, but she was laughing and so was he. She put her hands on his, trying to break free as he began to spin them around.

"Zach," she warned, "I'll throw up on you!" He was still laughing.

She struggled and moved until she was facing him, his arms still holding her waist, and only when she looked up did she realize how close they were. She prayed he didn't notice her breath hitch in her throat.
   
Her face scrunched up as she looked at him, a smug expression evident on his features.
   
"I won," he said.
   
She scoffed, swatting at his shoulder.
   
"Get off me, Herron."
   
He let her go, literally smirking.
   
"I'm going to hear you sing, Orland. I'll do it."

"Whatever you say," she said as she raised her head slightly, still smiling as she turned to walk away.