"This is it," Zach whispered, more to himself than anyone else. "The final bow."
Maddox was the silence between the notes. He was the bodyguard who stood in the shadows, the man who saw the panic attacks Zach hid from the cameras and the way his hands shook after a three-hour set. Maddox didn't care about the platinum records or the Grammy nods. To Maddox, Zach wasn't a product; he was a person. Encore by Eden Finley
"I'm done being the person they want," Zach said, his voice raw. "I just want to be the person you see." "This is it," Zach whispered, more to himself
On the final night of the tour, the air in the arena was electric, thick with the scent of pyrotechnics and anticipation. Zach stood behind the curtain, the roar of the crowd vibrating in his chest. He looked at Maddox, standing post near the stage entrance, his expression unreadable but his eyes focused entirely on Zach. Maddox didn't care about the platinum records or
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