There’s a moment right before the world turns gold.
Right before the stage lights warm up and the hum in the air turns into heartbeat. Right before the first chord, the first inhale, the first line of a story that didn’t exist until it came clawing out of your chest.
It’s dark enough that you could disappear —
and bright enough that you know you won’t.
I’ve always loved that moment.
Not the performance.
Not the applause.
Not even the wild rush after when your adrenaline is still chewing through your ribs.
It’s the in-between that gets me.
The quiet backstage corners.
The dusty road miles.
The half-finished coffee and scribbled lyrics on the back of a set list.
The motel mirror at 2am where you look like someone who lived a thousand lifetimes in one night and survived all of them.
That’s where the truth lives.
Not in the center of the spotlight — but in the breath you take right before you step into it.
I think that’s why I write.
To catch the things we don’t say in the moments no one is looking.
The soft violence of vulnerability. The hush right before the roar.
So here’s to the in-betweens. Here’s to the backstage souls. Here’s to the stories that happen before the curtain rises.
And here’s to you — reading this like maybe, just maybe, you’ve lived in those shadows too.
Welcome to the backstage.
We’re just getting started.
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