Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
Ross
Nervous energy fills me as we get ready to play.
I’ve always loved performing, even if I buried that part of myself for nearly twenty years.
But right now, I’m walking a tightrope between two worlds—the one I’ve built since the accident and the one I’m inadvertently being pulled back into.
Taking care of the tour logistics and simultaneously being a member of the band.
Even if it’s just temporary.
Even if the contract they made me sign earlier today is going to pay me almost a year’s salary just for the next few weeks.
Not to mention being on the verge of falling in love for the first time in…a very long time.
Waking up next to a beautiful woman who makes my heart beat faster. Who’s learning all the different parts of me without letting it scare her away.
Things are moving fast but I can’t think of a single reason to slow down.
“You ready?” Kellan comes up to me as we wait for the signal that it’s go time. Usually, that’s my job. Today, Pete is taking over. He’s smart and competent. I trust him completely, but I can’t help scanning the backstage area to make sure things are running smoothly.
“I think so?” I chuckle. “It’s still a little nerve-wracking. I never used to get stage fright but we weren’t Onyx Knight.”
“We’re just five guys and a girl playing music,” he says. “That’s all this is. Don’t think about Onyx Knight the business—just the music we’re about to make.”
I nod. “Thanks. I’ll try.”
I glance around one last time.
Pete talking into his earpiece.
Tommy jogging in place.
Z rolling his neck.
Devyn hovering over Kingston because his voice got even worse today. He’s only going to do one song tonight, even though he’ll play piano and talk to the crowd a bit. We’re all worried about him but he has an appointment to see a specialist when we get to Seattle next week.
And Wynter.
Standing off to the side with Harley, giving me space so I can focus on the task at hand.
Clara used to do that too. Somehow, she always sensed what I needed before I needed it.
I’m not about to compare Clara and Wynter—they’re two totally different women—but there’s something about Wynter that reminds me of my late fiancée.
Not looks, not even personality. It’s more about the way they both make me feel.
It’s not something I can articulate—not yet anyway—it’s simply a feeling. One that stays with me as I watch the rest of the band walk on stage.
The rest of the band.
Like I’m one of them.
Knock it off, Ross. This is temporary. This isn’t your band.
I breathe in and out a few times, taking long, cleansing breaths.
Tonight’s show will be a lot more taxing than the last. I’m singing more songs, interacting with the audience more, and truly playing the part of lead singer of Onyx Knight.
And if I’m not careful, it could mess with my head.
“Vegas!” It’s Z’s deep, booming voice. “How the hell are ya? Did you miss us?”
The audience goes wild, whistling and cheering.
“So, we have good news and bad news,” he continues.
“The bad news is that Kingston is still recovering from laryngitis—but the good news is that he’s still here and we have an amazing line-up for you tonight because we’ve invited some friends to join us.
” Instead of disappointment, the crowd is into it, yelling even louder.
“And the amazing Ross Rock-it is here to fill in when King needs rest—what the hell do you think of that?”
I walk out on stage, my arms in the air, listening to the excitement.
They do remember, brother.
Fuck, it’s hard when I hear my band’s voices in my head but the cheers make up for the sadness.
I grab the mike as Tommy counts off for “Shiny Pieces.” It was the band’s first single and hit, and it’s always a fun way to start a show.
Ironically, this song is also the one I think I do best because it’s in my vocal register and has a feel similar to that of my own songs.
The rest of the set is harder—Ross & the Rock-its were more pop rock than hard rock—but I’m not worried about the rest of the set.
This is a one song, one set, one day at a time situation.
All I have to do is sing and not get too attached to the spotlight.
Because it’s addicting.
I told Wynter I’m not an addict—and I’m not, not in the true sense of the word—but it’s hard to not get accustomed to the accolades. The applause. The money.
Okay, not now.
I focus on the music, trying to be myself while still representing Onyx Knight the best way I can. I’m still me, with my own voice and sound, but this is their music, their show. I have to remember that.
As I stare down into the audience, I realize that despite how long it’s been, not a lot has changed.
The women down front are scantily dressed, with lots of makeup and big smiles. They know every word to every song and spend a lot of time calling to us. All of us. Even me. They want attention, a pick, something—anything—to take a piece of us, and the show, home with them.
Twenty years ago, I never took advantage of any of that because I had Clara.
And now I have Wynter.
But it’s okay because she’s worth a hundred groupies.
The lights go down, the main part of the show is over, and we go off stage.
“Six minutes,” Pete calls to us.
That’s how long the crowd will have to wait for the encore.
“We’re doing Shoot and Break!” Z calls even though the set list is printed on multiple pieces of paper taped to various places on the stage.
“Break Your Promise” is the band’s biggest hit, and the crowd knows it’s coming, but first is “Shoot For the Stars.”
And they’re excited for that too.
If I’m honest, it never gets old watching an audience put their fists in the air to sing along to something I wrote when I was nineteen years old. The first song I ever wrote with the band. The first hit. The first everything. And twenty years later it still rocks.
For some reason, this next song will be the hardest for me. Even though I know the words backward and forward. Even though the crowd has been eating it up all night. Even though I’m having the time of my life.
But it brings back all the memories.
They’re not terrifying anymore but they still pack a punch, making me a little lightheaded.
Until I feel soft fingers on my forearm.
I turn to Wynter and she just smiles. Like she knows I need something—or someone—to ground me. And I smile back. She gets it. Gets me. I lean over and press a soft kiss on her lips.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
“Always,” she whispers back.
Then Pete gives the signal and I’m back out there.
We finish the set on a high note and by the time it’s over, I’m past the momentary flashbacks. In fact, I’m riding high as hell.
This is the part that becomes…addicting.
The high of performing is unlike any other feeling. I was too busy grieving to miss it when I moved on all those years ago but it’s different this time. This time, it’s temporary so I can already sense how difficult it’s going to be to go back to being Ross the tour manager.
I love my job. Even in the midst of all of this, I still worry that everything is going smoothly, that the band will have everything they need to perform at the level they do.
It’s a little confusing, to be honest. Because I don’t know where Ross Sanderson ends and Ross Rockit begins.
I locked Ross Rockit into the deepest, darkest part of my soul, where I never, ever tapped into that part of me.
Until now.
It’s like I knew it would be impossible to separate the two if I ever tried to perform again.
And now I have.
I don’t know what that means for my future, but short-term, I have to stay focused and not allow myself to think about the what-ifs.
Right up until I got on stage tonight, I thought I would be okay going back to being Ross the tour manager.
Now I’m not so sure.
It scares me because I’m way too old to start over. I don’t have a band, I don’t want to spend my nest egg to live like a starving musician for an indefinite length of time, and if I’m going to be with Wynter, I need to be able to support us. As a man, that’s important to me.
I’m so lost in thought, absently wiping my face with the towel someone handed me, that I don’t see the woman until she’s right in front of me.
“Ross?! It’s really you!” The attractive blond looks familiar but I don’t have time to think about her name because she throws her arms around me and presses her lips to mine.