POV: Nova

The spotlight felt warm on my face as I finished the final verse.

My fingers moved across the guitar strings like they'd done this a thousand times before. Because they had. This venue—my venue—had become home over the past thirteen years. Three hundred seats, perfect acoustics, and no record label telling me what to sing or how to sing it.

"Thank you," I said into the microphone, and the audience applauded. Not screaming fans or Grammy crowds. Just people who came for the music.

Perfect.

I set down my guitar and smiled at the front row. Kai sat there like he did every Friday night, his graying hair...