Chapter 27
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Spencer
“How are you not nervous?” I tapped my foot to the rhythm of the band on stage currently.
Mama rolled her eyes. “How do you know I’m not nervous?”
“Because I know you.” And I did. The past year I’d spent a fair amount of time in the woman’s company. I felt like she was more of a mother to me than my own. Certainly she filled that role in Malik’s life.
And I loved her for it.
We stood near the back of the crowd. In the middle of it, Mama wouldn’t have been able to see. Too close to the stage and I worried she might get jostled. She might be a hearty and healthy woman, but she was also on the delicate side, and I worried about her all the time.
She’d hate me if she was aware.
Instead, I said I wanted to be far enough away so I didn’t distract Malik.
Mostly bullshit.
In truth, I didn’t want to be a distraction. I also wanted to see the entire stage. Pauletta had let me know they had quite a production set up including a film of sorts being projected behind the band.
I was intrigued.
Creed strummed the first few notes of a song I didn’t recognize.
The entire group steadfastly refused to share a few of their new songs with us.
If I’d attended any of the concerts in the past two weeks, I might’ve heard some of them.
I was dealing with some tricky legislation, though, and hadn’t been able to take the time away.
Even being here was a pain in my ass, and I had more paperwork to look at before the weekend was over.
Mama elbowed me in the ribs.
“Hey.” I scowled.
She pointed to the stage.
Malik stared right at us. Almost like his gaze had been magnetically drawn to me.
He sang a heavy metal song about the pain of unrequited love.
Although I was fascinated to watch him, Creed pulled my attention. Something in the way he played his guitar…it felt authentic. Pain-filled.
“Oh, my dear boy.” Mama’s words came to me almost as a whisper. Miraculous I could hear them with the deafening sound around us.
“Will he talk to you?” I shouted the words in her ear.
She shook her head. Then shrugged. “It’s Creed—who knows what he’ll do.”
That was true. He could be as hardheaded as Malik when he wanted to be.
The song ended, and they transitioned into one of their classic head-banging rock songs.
Mama bopped to the beat.
I was pretty hopeless, so I just sort of swayed. A white dude with zero rhythm. And how’d you wind up with a musician exactly? Oh, right, he chained himself to a bridge in the name of the organization you hold so dear. Right. Almost forgot that little tidbit.
In truth, the year had flown by. Exactly a year ago, he’d stood in my office and pled his case.
Or, perhaps more accurately, demanded I allow him to do more.
Then the confrontation at city hall, the epic kiss, the quiet meeting of the minds, him coming to my condo…
meeting Moses and making sweet love to me.
All of that felt like yesterday while also feeling like a million years ago.
All those months apart had given time a weird, elastic quality.
When I focused on the fact we had the rest of our lives together, things felt more manageable.
Or so I told myself.
“Okay, happy to be here, folks.” Malik grinned.
The crowd roared its approval. Almost sixty thousand people made a hell of a ruckus.
“Let me introduce my bandmates.” In turn, he said each one’s name, and they strummed, keyboarded, or drummed their appreciation. “And I’m Malik. Lead singer and guitarist.”
Another roar.
“But I have a secret to share.”
My interest piqued.
He put his electric guitar on a stand and bent. When he straightened, he had a violin on his shoulder. With a plug in it and a cable running down to an amplifier.
“Oh my God.” My breath caught.
Mama squealed.
Yep. Squealed. Genuine excitement—more than she’d ever shown.
“Have you ever heard him play?”
She shook her head. “He’s always kept these two parts of his life separate—before he left the orchestra and after. Maybe he’s going to meld the two?”
Such a profound idea, that I found myself leaning forward.
He pulled the bow across the strings just once.
A silence came over the crowd as everyone hushed.
“Some of you may know, I’m an environmentalist.”
A few cheers went up.
“Yeah, I even chained myself to a bridge during rush-hour traffic to make a point. I’ll say now, that wasn’t my brightest move.”
“You looked sexy doing it.” A woman’s voice rang out clear as day.
Everyone laughed.
He saluted her. “True. I always look good.”
A few women—and more than a few men—cheered their approval.
“Then I met a man who showed me another way to make a difference. A couple of ways, in fact. One is music. We composed this song for him. Well, and his organization—fighting for change in all the right ways.” He met my gaze. “I love you, Spencer. And this is for Pike.”
My heart caught in my throat, and I blinked rapidly.
Not rapidly enough. The tears fell unheeded down my cheeks as Malik began playing on his violin. A song I’d never heard before.
Creed’s voice carried the tune. A montage of nature shots filled the screen behind them, and the lyrics appeared in bright white.
Words about preserving nature.
About Indigenous rights.
About what it meant to be stewards and keepers of the land.
The lyrics washed over me as the song burrowed into my chest. We’d only spoken of Pike that one night—the winter solstice. Although I held my friend close in my heart, I never spoke of him. The pain was too raw. My own guilt at my own inaction too real.
Somehow, through this song, Mallik was alleviating the guilt. Showing me that I could still do good work—even if my friend was no longer here.
At the end of the song, the crowd erupted into massive cheers.
Malik took a bow, then approached the microphone.
“I was trained in classical music. I’ve learned in the past year that classical and rock music can coexist. Just like humans and nature can coexist. Just like I can coexist with the love of my life.
” He met my gaze. “It’s all a matter of compromise and degrees.
Sometimes you have to sit back and let nature take over.
We’re here on her good graces, of course.
We have to respect her. Do our best to care for her. For each other.”
“Woo-hoo.” Another female voice rang out in the crowd.
He saluted her. “Now, for our finale.”
Reese pounded a beat and soon everyone joined in.
They rocked the house down.