One concert. One backstage pass. Four friends who absolutely do not behave.

Tessa thought she was just indulging a teenage crush when she stepped into that sold-out venue. A little nostalgia. A little music. Maybe a blurry selfie if she was lucky. She used to scream his lyrics into a hairbrush in her bedroom mirror. Now she's screaming his name while her friends watched her get used in the band's dressing room.

Tessa came for the music.
She left wrecked, breathless, and aching for more.