Chapter 2
two
. . .
Care Bear in the Crowd
“ No, I will not say something funny. ”
~ Jake Steele
Jake
“We’re on after this song, Jake.” My guitar player, Rowan, handed me a mic. I took it and adjusted my leather jacket, ready to rip it off when I got on stage. Gotta look the part, Jake. At least I didn’t have to wear the dark eyeliner since we were at the beach.
I loved metal—really, I did—but I wasn’t fond of the dramatics.
Flashes and bangs while on stage, looking like a grunge biker.
We’d fought long and hard to get our contract with Clarke Records and to have our tour lined up for this summer.
That included looking the part. But when was it going to end?
The weight of the persona sometimes felt heavier than the music itself .
We’d insisted on playing at the RageTide Festival before touring. Performing here was a major inspiration when we first started jamming as teenagers in my garage.
“Dude, we’ll know we’ve made it when we headline at RageTide.”
Now here I was, on the side of the makeshift stage on the beach, looking out at the packed crowd with the water in the background. I was in heaven.
“Cameron’s really spinning them up out there,” Rowan said. On stage was the opening act, Crimson Abyss.
Cameron was Abyss’ lead singer, who fancied himself my mortal enemy.
We’d gone head-to-head in a Battle of the Bands contest two years ago in Miami.
Cameron hadn’t taken Steele Horizons’ win well, or the fact we’d made it out of Florida with a recording contract and a world tour scheduled with our two number one singles.
“Dumbass,” I muttered. I felt bad for the guy, but I wasn’t wasting any more energy on it. There were bigger fish to fry, especially with our next world tour looming large. The national press was about to swamp us, so I had to get ready.
The crowd abruptly roared. The mosh pit was going wild, and I immediately saw why.
It seemed like accidental crowd surfing as a girl was thrown from person to person.
My heart fell to my feet at the look of distress on her face.
Her wide eyes and flailing arms screamed panic, and something protective surged in my chest.
The Jumbotron turned the camera to her, and I could see her trying to regain control over what was happening. She was only wearing a T-shirt and … were those Care Bear underwear?
I ran to the edge of the stage and tapped the security guard’s shoulder, pointing toward the woman with the—dare I say it—great ass. He saw her distress and acted quickly, muscling his way through and rescuing her from the crowd to wild cheers of:
“Care Bear! Care Bear! Care Bear!”
Sounded like the crowd had noticed her underwear, too.
Grabbing her, he carried her bridal style and handed her to me.
I didn’t know what he thought I could do, but I pulled off my leather jacket and wrapped it around her waist, giving her the modesty she clearly wanted.
I stopped cold when I finally got a look at her face and saw the tears streaming down her cheeks.
Her vulnerability hit me like a gut punch, and I wanted so badly to shield her from this chaos.
“Hey, hey …” I pulled her off stage, rubbing my hand over her back.
“Delay the set!” I yelled to Rowan, taking Care Bear to the back.
I sat her on one of the small couches they’d set up in an air-conditioned tent for Steele Horizons.
I grabbed a bottle of water from the tub filled with ice and various beverages on a nearby table.
“Take a sip. You’re okay.”
She sipped the water, taking deep breaths to calm herself. After a minute, she wiped the tears off her cheeks, her mascara only slightly smeared.
“Thank you,” she choked out. “I don't know what happened. I left my friend to go to the bathroom, and when I came back, she was on the other side of the crowd. I just tried to … I tried to walk through, and then I was in the air.” A sob escaped her. “My skirt was too big, and they …”
“It’s okay. You’re safe.” I kept my voice steady, but my heart was pounding with a mixture of anger at the crowd and relief that she was here, safe with me.
I didn’t know what to say or do to make this better.
“Do you want me to find your friend?” I wasn't sure how I'd manage it with so many people, but given what she'd been through, I'd find a way.
She nodded and then told me where I could find her friend, Zara. From how she described her friend’s mirrored shirt, it wouldn’t be hard to spot her under the bright sun. Popping my head out of the tent, I relayed her description to the security team.
The girl sat back, regaining her composure.
I took a good look at her. She was sweet and innocent.
Her long, warm brown hair hung heavily disheveled, eyes glassy with her tears.
Her skin was sun-kissed, with small freckles that danced over her collarbones.
Her delicate features and the way she clutched my jacket made my chest tighten with an unfamiliar warmth.
She had on a tattered old yellow cardigan over a gray tank with lettering. I totally cracked up when I read it.
“You’re laughing at me? After I got mauled by the crowd?” she asked, her voice high and defensive.
“Whoa there. I was laughing at your T-shirt. It’s funny.” I grinned, hoping to coax a smile from her. Anything to erase the fear that still lingered in her eyes.
Before he could say more, a woman came rushing through the tent flaps, her arms flailing .
“Emily Lane, what the hell were you thinking? Surfing the goddamn crowd?” She threw herself between me and Care Bear on the couch, her concern for her friend making her wild.
Emily hugged Zara, her eyes closing, relief spreading across her face. She was so beautiful, even when she was upset. Every emotion that came across her face was breathtaking. Her raw authenticity was something I hadn’t seen in a while—not in this polished world of music and fame.
“I’m all right. I’m okay,” she chanted, consoling her friend.
For me, crowd surfing had always been a liberating experience of letting go and trusting the crowd to take me. It was scary and exciting because I knew I could get hurt at any moment.
But for a woman to be grabbed and carried in the melee of a mosh pit without consent?
Bad things have happened at the center of the mobs.
Crowd surges that led to concussions, head injuries and being trampled.
Sexual assaults happened in the mass of anonymous bodies gyrating together.
They were a reality at rock concerts, but we always had extra security to prevent these types of things.
The thought of Emily out there, caught in that chaos, made my blood boil and I vowed to keep a closer eye on the crowd tonight.
“Who even crowd surfs in their underwear, Em!” Zara pulled back, trying to glare at her friend, while laughing at the same time.
My wayward crowd surfer giggled and pulled my leather jacket closer around her waist. When Emily cried, she had an aura of beautiful sweetness about her; but when she smiled and laughed with her friend—she was radiant. Her laughter was like a melody I wanted to hear again and again.
I shuffled in my seat, feeling the tightness in my pants. I was contemplating how to stand up graciously, without showing the world my appreciation for this beautiful stranger, when Rowan burst in.
“Bro, we gotta get out there. Cameron flew off stage like a bitch because you came out to rescue that girl in the Care Bear panties.”
Emily's face went beet red. “Oh, God, how did everyone see my underwear?” She hid her face against Zara's chest and hugged her. Zara bit her lip, face scrunched, fighting back her laughter.
“Can you give these two pretty ladies some VIP lanyards?” I asked the security guard standing nearby. “Emily? Would you and your friend be my guests at the side of the stage?”
Zara’s eyes bulged, but Emily stuttered, “I-I-I don’t know. Maybe we should go?—”
“Of course we will!” Zara said at the same time, then flicked Em’s earlobe.
“Ouch! Zara, we can’t stay. I lost my skirt!”
“That’s okay. Here.” I stood, took off my T-shirt and handed it to her. She was so distracted, gaping at my naked torso, that I had to take her hand and shove the T-shirt into her grip. It was hilarious. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“You should,” she choked out, still staring at my chest.
“I'll see you at the side of the stage,” I said, more to her friend because she was still zoned out, staring at my tattoos. Luckily, Zara could comprehend what I said and nodded.
To Emily, I grinned and said, “Make sure you keep yourself covered. I want to be the only one getting that Care Bear stare.”
Her face turned bright pink, and she giggled nervously, and I knew that the connection I was feeling between us—she felt it too.