“Knock ’em dead.” With his easy smile, self-assurance arises inside of me. Maybe I can manage to do this.
I’ve been on stages larger than this, packed arenas as a matter of fact, but back then I just spun around my dad in my tutu while he played guitar. Memories float to mind from the summer my mom shipped me off to my dad. She wanted him to see what it was like being a single parent since there were often times I wouldn’t see him for months. That summer turned out to be one of the best in my life, except for Will overdosing. Luckily, he survived, but he never returned to the band and I recently saw him on one of those reality shows.
When the small spotlight focuses down on the stage, I’m thrown back to the present. The very scary present. The crowd quiets and I close my eyes, sucking in a few long and deep breaths. I can do this. The hammering of Trey’s drumsticks ring from behind me and I open my eyes, praying I don’t screw up.
“YOU DID FUCKING amazing.” I rush up to Paige and scoop her up in my arms. Our two sweaty bodies embrace and she laughs when I swing her around. “I told you. Check them out.” I stop us and point to the jumping patrons of Ace’s shouting for more.
She slyly eyes me. “You want to give them one more?” She bites her lip and I shake my head from her quick addiction to the spotlight.
“What do you say guys, one more?” I fear Trey will be out, I already caught him checking his phone on a song break, but Celan, he instantly gives me a quick nod, eager to play.
“One more and then I’m out,” Trey says as he places his phone back on the ground. “Singer’s choice,” he screams and Paige frantically shakes her head back and forth, making those curls swing in the air. God, I want to twirl my finger around one and tug.
“Do you guys know Dr. Feelgood by Motley Crue?” She cringes like we wouldn’t know one of the top rock-out songs of all time. Not to mention a song about girls, give me a damn break, it’s a garage band’s must.
“Fuck yeah,” Celan yells and I could use him as my prime example since I borrowed him from a garage band.
Trey smiles. Paige moves back up to the mic while Trey and I begin the musical in the first half. Celan soon joins in and Paige glances back to us until I point to her that it’s time for her to start singing. You’d never guess this was her first show; actually you’d think she’s been playing in a band for years. She shakes her ass, pacing the stage in those skintight leather pants. Fuck me, her ass in my face now as she bends down to the crowd with the microphone in her hand. When we hit the chorus, she leans into me and I help her sing it. God, her flowery perfume makes my dick come alive.
She’s hot as hell, and from the amount of guys’ eyes pinned on her from the first row, I’ll have to claim her fast once this is over. She may not be mine, but damn if any of these douches will get a piece of her tonight. As the song dies down, she places the microphone on the stand and turns around, downing the rest of her third bottle of water since we started playing. As if she could get any hotter¸ she tips her head back and gulps the water down her throat. The only thing better would be if she spilled it.
When the spotlight turns off, the crowd groans before resorting to the bar or tables. Paige darts directly to me. “What a high!” She takes a deep breath and her shoulders jiggle as I swear shivers rack her skin. “Thank you for convincing me to do it.” She leans over and kisses me on the cheek, and then works her way to Trey, who’s already packing up his stuff.
I try to force the jealousy away, watching her hug Trey and Celan, but my eyes won’t stop watching her as she comes down from the high of performing. Makes me think of my first time playing in front of people our freshman year. Man, I was hooked after one taste and that was before the circle of girls that formed around us. After she finishes hugging them, Trey comes over and slaps my back. “Do you mind packing up my drums? Tara has a fever and Kailey’s got a paper due tomorrow.” His shoulders slump and I swear the dark circles under his eyes have sunken in deeper lately, if possible. The demands of parenthood I guess.
“Yeah, man, go. Celan will help.” I wave him off and he jumps off the stage, dodging the approach of girls about to swarm likes bees on honey. Sad really, especially since any true fan knows he’s spoken for. Not like I’m not surprised, if the girlfriend isn’t here, others think it’s free game. Hell, some do it blatantly right in front of the girl.
I pack up my guitar and when I swing it over my shoulder, Paige is bouncing up and down in front of me, clapping her hands. I guess that high hasn’t left yet. “Oh my God, Rob. That was so much fun.” When I see her excitement, all my insides tighten, because I have to ram down these feelings to seek out every damn venue from here to Cleveland just to book a show every damn night just to see that expression on her face. I need to space myself from her, close off whatever she’s shooting to my heart. “What?” Her smile fades while I drown in contemplation of our relationship and I hate when her eyes falter from uncertainty.
“Nothing.” I shake my head. “You did great, Paige.” I go to sidestep past her, but she grabs my arm, swinging me around.
“Rob?” she sighs, silently asking me to answer where my head disappeared to. But I can’t, so I slip on the invisible mask that’s tucked in my back pocket. “Your tits were bouncing, you distracted me.” She huffs and her stance sulks. She’s way more perceptive than others to accept my defense mechanisms.
She stares at me long and steady for a few seconds. Then she claps her hands, forcing the two of us to focus. “What can I do to help?”
“Nothing. Celan and I have it.” I flick my head to Celan, who’s already taken apart the drums. “Sit tight, enjoy the thrill and I’ll be back to buy you a drink.” I hop off the stage and once I reach the archway to the hall, I turn around one time. A flutter of activity immediately envelops her and I shake my head, figuring I should keep close for the rest of the night. Then the evil devil on my left shoulder perks up with an idea to squash this feeling before it ever starts.
Fifteen minutes later, the van is packed and locked up. I head down the hallway, needing a shot now. Numb the pain before it takes over. Over the years I’ve learned tactics to get through times like this. Time where my heart widens a little too much. I stop in my tracks when my eyes float to our booth and I see Paige smack dab in the middle of a group of guys. What the hell? She’s smiling and laughing with them. Then I eye one and I know him from somewhere. “Fuck,” I mumble to myself.
“What’s up, man?” Celan comes alongside of me and his eyes follow mine.
“Shit, I didn’t know Exiled Souls was coming tonight. I heard they’re starting their own label or something. They want to compile more bands.” Celan rambles the same rumors I’ve been hearing. The band circuit around here is small, so news travels fast.
“I’m fairly certain they have their eye on someone tonight?” My eyes never leave the table.
“I’m not sure their interest is only in her singing capabilities.” Celan claps my shoulder and heads over to the table. Probably eager to grab a spot. I can’t blame the kid; he’s been trying hard to find a regular gig after his band broke up. Invisibles sure isn’t where he needs to land, it’s dying a slow death.
When Celan reaches the table, Paige smiles and signals for the three guys to let him sit. As she’s busy being the polite person she always is, she scans the room and finds me leaning against the archway. Her face lights up and she tilts her head in an adorable way, wondering why I’m still over here, watching her instead of next to her. She signals for the asshole next to her to scoot out and the guys all check out her ass as she makes her way over to me.