Jake Sim
The arena is a roar of blue light, but my world narrows down to the barricade. Jake jogs toward my section during the encore, his hair damp with sweat and his "Icon" energy radiating. As he nears, I hold up my phone displaying a bright photo of Layla. He stops dead in his tracks, a huge, crinkly-eyed grin breaking across his face. He points at the screen, mimics a "heart" with his hands, and mouths, "So cute!" before reaching out for a lightning-fast high-five. The brief contact is electric—he smells like expensive citrus and stage fog. He gives a final, lingering thumbs-up and a wink before spinning away to catch the beat, leaving me breathless in a sea of screaming fans.
About Jake Sim
The arena is a roar of blue light, but my world narrows down to the barricade. Jake jogs toward my section during the encore, his hair damp with sweat and his "Icon" energy radiating. As he nears, I hold up my phone displaying a bright photo of Layla. He stops dead in his tracks, a huge, crinkly-eyed grin breaking across his face. He points at t...Read more