10. Marisol
Marisol
“ W e are The Sinner’s Web, and we want to hear you scream, California!” the lead singer yelled into the mic, followed by a chorus of screams and chants from the crowd. Not even Marisol was immune to the excited energy coursing through the crowd untethered.
A euphoria of music filled her body and couldn’t be contained.
She screamed with the rest of the crowd the lyrics to the band’s most popular song.
For the first time ever, she allowed all her walls to break down so she could enjoy her favorite band without any restraints.
The booze in her system also did wonders to help boost her confidence.
Next to her, Cisco bobbed his head along with the drums, singing every word alongside her.
He was right. He was a terrible singer, but so was she, which made it all the more fun.
When he noticed she was laughing at him, he proceeded to amp up the goofiness and jump—dance?
—around. He reached for her, attempting to get her to join him.
Marisol laughed at first, trying to push him away as thoughts of what her mother would think if she saw her now plagued her mind. She wouldn’t recognize her daughter singing out loud to an underground rock band. But was that such a bad thing?
She was already here, disappointing her mother. Might as well go all out. Marisol matched his energy, jumping and pumping her fist to the beat while she sang like an angsty teenager who was finally let out of the house. In many ways, it felt like that.
The Sinner’s Web played all her favorite songs and never once lost their energy.
Neither did the audience as they belted out every song.
A few people from the crowd below started to crowd surf, something Marisol had only ever seen in movies.
It looked fun, but she could never have that many hands roam all over her body.
Especially in places that should only be reserved for the bedroom.
It made her even happier that Cisco was able to get them up on the balcony.
It offered a perfect view of the stage without having people pressed up against her the entire show.
She only had Cisco pressing up against her, and she quite enjoyed that.
Through his clothes, she felt the hard body that lay underneath and spent an embarrassing amount of time wondering what he looked like without them.
Was this a normal reaction? Because she never thought about Archie naked, and he had been her husband.
Pushing all thoughts of Archie aside for now, Marisol took Cisco’s hand and allowed him to spin her to one of the band’s more pop-ish songs.
Everything about this night was amazing.
From the drinks, to the company, and, of course, the music.
Their set lasted for close to an hour and a half, but it wasn’t enough.
She wanted more, and the sour taste of disappointment poisoned her when the band played their last song.
Even after The Sinner’s Web exited the stage, the chants still echoed across the room.
“Marisol, did you hear me?” Cisco pulled her out of her funk.
“No. Sorry, what did you say?” She gave him her full attention.
Thankfully, Cisco didn’t seem upset. “I asked if you were ready to meet them.”
“Meet who?”
“The band?”
“What band?”
With the patience of a Catholic saint, Cisco said, “The Sinner’s Web.”
“Wait.” Marisol put up her hand, letting her slow brain process the words. She didn’t think she heard him correctly. “We are going to meet the band?”
“They probably don’t have a whole lot of time, but enough time to take pictures and sign something if you want,” Cisco said, oblivious to the excitement building inside her.
“Are you serious right now?”
Cisco paused, looking at her oddly. “Uh, yeah? Do you not want to meet them? Because we don’t?—”
“No, of course I want to meet them!” Marisol interrupted. “Oh my god, but will they let us?”
“Half-owner, remember?” He smirked. “Comes with a few perks, but we gotta hurry before they head out.”
Marisol only nodded, afraid that, if she tried to speak, her voice would betray her.
Cisco took her hand as if it were the most natural thing in the world, his grip warm and steady, and guided her down the stairs.
The first floor was still packed with people grabbing last-minute drinks or picking up band merchandise.
Cisco didn’t hesitate, maneuvering her through the crowd with ease, his hand a reassuring anchor as they made their way toward a roped-off section near the stage.
A woman stationed at the entrance caught Cisco’s eye, offering a quick nod before pulling back the barrier to let them through.
Backstage was a whirlwind of activity. Crew members bustled about, carrying instruments, breaking down equipment, and exchanging quick words as they passed. Two doors at the far end of the space stood propped open, leading outside, likely to where the van was parked.
Cisco didn’t stop there. He continued deeper into the backstage area, bringing her into a room filled with scattered folding chairs and a long table stocked with bottled water, energy drinks, and an assortment of snacks.
But it wasn’t the setup that made Marisol’s breath hitch—it was the people lounging around the room. Not just any people.
The Sinner’s Web.
Never in her life had she been starstruck.
Marisol had encountered many high-profile people and minor celebrities who ran in the same or similar circles her parents did.
But she had never met anyone she admired or connected with their art like this before.
It gave her pause because, what did she do?
What did she say? She didn’t want to say something that would keep her up in the middle of the night, wishing for the floor to open up and swallow her whole.
Fortunately, Cisco didn’t seem to have the same reservations. He confidently strolled up to the group of musicians, who all turned his way. A man she recognized as the lead singer stood up, reaching to shake Cisco’s hand.
“Ayy, brother. Good to see you again,” he said.
Again? Cisco had met these men before ?
“Miguel, it’s been a while. Fucking solid show tonight,” Cisco replied.
“Muchas gracias.” Miguel ran a hand through his sweaty hair, which would have normally grossed Marisol out, but for a rockstar, she could make an exception.
Cisco dropped Marisol’s hand. The loss of his warmth disappointed her until she felt his hand on her back, gently urging her forward. “This is Marisol. It was her first concert.”
“Really?” Miguel asked, surprised. “Damn, that’s some pressure. Did we disappoint?”
“Oh, no! You guys were amazing. You’re like, my favorite band. I listen to your album all the time in the car.” Marisol winced. She spoke too quickly, sounding like an excited groupie and not the calm and collected adult she was trying to be.
Miguel chuckled. “We’re honored to be your go-to car album.” He then gestured to the other guys sitting around, clearly trying to catch their breath from their set. “This is Tito, Matías, and the bastard gasping for his breath is óscar.”
óscar flipped him off, throwing a half-empty plastic water bottle at Miguel, but he missed terribly and hit Tito’s chest.
“The fuck, man?” Tito frowned, grabbing the water bottle and smacking óscar on the head. óscar flipped him off too, and pretty soon they were all flipping each other off and hurling insults at one another. It somehow ended with laughter breaking out amongst them.
Men were fucking weird.
“You coming to the party with us, Cisco? You can bring your girl too,” Matías asked, and Marisol felt her cheeks redden.
She wasn’t Cisco’s girl, but the thought was appealing.
Coming home to a hot tattooed man every night?
She could think of worse things. But it was just a date.
The first one she had in a long time after her marriage.
And even before then, if she were being honest. She and Archie didn’t date. They made appearances.
Guilt coiled low in her belly at the thought of Archie.
A man she was still technically married to.
Didn’t matter that they were separated and had been for a while, or that Marisol held no love for him—on paper, she was a married woman.
Something she should probably tell Cisco sooner rather than later…
but now didn’t seem like the right time.
“Nah, we’re going to head out for the night. We just wanted to stop and get a picture,” Cisco said.
“That’s fine, pero we’re all sweaty,” Matías said, and all heads swiveled toward Marisol. “You don’t mind, do you?”
Sweaty, stinky men didn’t usually do it for Marisol, but she wouldn’t care if they had rolled in glue and feathers. She was getting a picture with her favorite band. “I don’t mind,” she assured.
Cisco looked around before stopping an employee who just dropped off water bottles and asked her to take their picture.
The woman nodded and moved to stand in front of them.
Cisco came around and put his arm around Marisol, pulling her close to his chest. She used to hate when Archie did this because it felt too possessive.
But when Cisco did it, it felt respectful. Comforting even.
The rest of the band crowded in around them and, boy, could she smell each and every one of them. She hoped these men at least showered before attending their afterparty.
“Smile,” the woman said. For the first time in a long time, Marisol’s smile was pure and real. Her cheeks hurt from it, not having exercised those muscles enough. This night would go down as one of her most favorite nights of her life.
Once the woman took a few pictures, she handed Cisco back his phone. “Thank you,” he said, quickly checking over the pictures. Marisol caught glimpses of each photo and barely recognized that smiling woman. “I’ll send you these,” he promised.
“It was really good to meet you all,” Marisol said to the band. It was brief, but that didn’t make it any less perfect. Each member offered her a polite smile and shook hands with Cisco before he led her out back.
Only once they were outside, away from The Sinner’s Web, did she let out the excited shriek she had been holding since the moment she saw them backstage. “Ohmygod!” Her words came out rushed. “They were so nice! Do you get to meet the bands often?”
Cisco grinned, his handsome face taking on a boyish quality as he flashed his teeth at her. “I do. It’s pretty cool, huh?”
“Uhm, yeah! I would be meeting all my favorite bands if I were in your position,” she said.
“You are welcome to come with me to any show. I’ll always give you the VIP treatment.” Cisco flagged down the valet and handed the guy his ticket. He jogged off, promising to deliver it quickly.
Cisco then turned back to her, taking a step closer. Marisol’s breath caught in her throat, catching a whiff of his cologne. Cedarwood and mint. Her body heated up, which was pathetic. It should take more than proximity and a good cologne to turn her on, but clearly her body had different thoughts.
“I had fun tonight,” Cisco said.
“So did I.” And she did. More fun than she’d had in so long.
“Can I see you again?” he asked .
Marisol opened her mouth to say she would think about it but promptly closed it.
That was what she always did, wasn’t it?
Say she would think about it and then convince herself she wasn’t allowed or didn’t deserve to do something she really wanted to do.
And she really wanted to see Cisco again.
She found herself drawn to him and was desperate to learn more about the man who kept surprising her around every corner.
To hell with the consequences, she wanted to see him again.
“Yes.” She watched a beautiful smile spread across his lips. “I would like to see you again, Cisco.”
She was acutely aware of their proximity.
Her chest nearly brushed his. She had to angle her head up in order to see him properly.
He hovered over her, licking his lips. It would be so easy to stand on her tiptoes and eliminate the distance between them until their lips were pressed together.
If she were a brave woman, she would do just that.
But her bravery sobered up half an hour ago.
The moment passed just as quickly as it came. Cisco’s car pulled up beside them, and it took a moment for him to move. He lingered there and seemingly made his decision because soon he leaned down and pressed a faint kiss to her cheek.
It was perfect.
It was not enough.
“Let me take you home, Princesa,” he said and opened the car door for her. She had been called princess before and normally hated it. Usually, it was to mock her or remind her how spoiled she was. But not the way Cisco said it. It was…different. Kind.
Not wanting the night to end, but knowing it had to, Marisol got into the car and let him drive her home. For the entire car ride, she couldn’t think of anything else but his lips on her cheek.