31. Riley
Chapter 31
Riley
A fter I strum the last note for sound check, I turn to the band and take out my earplugs, about to say something when I hear someone clapping and whooping from the pit. The lights turn down, and my eyes land on…my eyes—well, Olivia’s eyes, but they look pretty identical to mine.
“Holy shit! Liv!” I call, jumping off the stage and running to meet her, engulfing her in a huge hug that lifts her off her feet. “When did you get here? How did you get in here? Why didn’t you tell me you were coming? Are you staying for the show?” I ask in rapid succession.
“Slow down.” Olivia laughs. “And set me down,” she adds, patting my arm for emphasis.
I set her down, and wow, I almost forgot how much shorter she is than me. I mean, Liv’s not necessarily short, but she’s certainly not tall. She likes to joke that I got all the height genes since she only comes up to my shoulder.
“One: I got here like twenty minutes ago. Two: Nash helped arrange for me to come and surprise you. And three: yes, dummy, I’m staying.” She rolls her eyes lightheartedly. “My little brother is on a sold-out national tour. I needed to come and see what all the hype is about.”
“Well, I’m glad you could make it.” I smile. “Come on, let’s head backstage. I have a pre-show meet-and-greet starting in fifteen.” We walk to the entrance of the backstage area, where I abruptly stop. “Oh shit,” I curse, clapping my hand on my forehead for emphasis. “Did Nash get you backstage tickets?”
“Uh,” Olivia starts. “I don’t think so…?”
“Shit, then you can’t come back here. You’ll just have to wait out there for a few hours until the show starts.”
Olivia looks stricken. “Are you serious?”
“Yeah, Liv. I’m so sorry. I’d sit out here with you, but I have that pre-show meet-and-greet I need to get to.”
“Oh,” she says. “Oh, okay then, I guess I’ll just catch up with you after the show, then,” she offers, trying (and failing) to cover the disappointment on her face.
“I’m just kidding. Jeez, Liv, I’m the star here,” I tease. “Of course I can bring you backstage.”
“You dick !” she cries, hitting my arm. “I thought you were serious.”
“You should’ve seen your face. You looked so sad. It almost made me feel bad for lying. It’s nice to know you want to hang out with me, Liv.”
“Please, I just want to see the backstage setup. I couldn't care less about you,” she stabs back, strolling backstage ahead of me and blindly taking a right.
“It’s a left,” I call, and she chuckles as she does a one-eighty.
We meet my band at the cozy little couch in the area below the stage. “Liv!” Waylon calls, throwing his arms around his cousin. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”
“It was a surprise.” Liv laughs, clawing free of Waylon’s embrace. “I missed you, too. ”
Nash and Ethan take turns greeting her, and then she spots the buffet spread out behind us.
“Is all of this for you guys?”
“Yep,” I answer. “Take whatever you want.”
“This is awesome ,” she exclaims, taking a paper plate and loading it so high that it strains under the weight of all the food crammed onto it. “I should’ve been a musician.”
“It’s just mini-subs and chips,” I scoff. “You’re easy to impress.”
“Hey, between vet school and college, I’m on year seven of ramen noodles and PB&Js. This is the height of luxury for me.”
“Jesus, Liv, let me Venmo you some money so you can get a real meal every now and then.” I crinkle my brow. I didn’t know she was so strapped for cash.
“Yeah, you owe me after paying eight hundred dollars for a front-row ticket tonight.”
My pulse spikes, and I turn to Nash. “You made her pay ?”
Olivia laughs as Nash throws his hands up. “No, man, I got her a free ticket.”
“I’m just playing with you, Riley. Nash is right. He gave me a free ticket. I would never pay to see you. Although, it’s encouraging that so many people do, huh? And that eight hundred dollars wasn’t a lie. I checked this morning, and front-row tickets were up to twelve hundred a pop for tonight.”
Ethan whistles. “That’s insane.”
“No kidding,” Liv answers. “It’s never been a better time to be Riley Coleman’s sister.” I chuckle, and she adds, “No, I’m serious. I mean, not that I advertise it or anything. That would be weird. But the other day, my lab partner saw my last name was Coleman and jokingly asked if I was related to Riley Coleman. When I said, ‘Yes, he’s my brother,’ his eyes just about popped out of his head. It was pretty funny…but now he spends every lab, fo r the entire lab, asking about you. It’s getting weird. I genuinely think he might have a secret altar to you or something.”
Waylon chuckles. “That’s Riley, our little heartthrob.”
I roll my eyes.
“Seriously, that part is a little weird, though. Riley, once a thirst trap of you came up on my feed. It was absolutely disgusting,” Liv says.
“You watched it?” Ethan laughs.
“Well, I was curious what the people see in him,” she jests. “But then I reported the video as a scam, so luckily, the algorithm has adjusted to not show me any more similar videos.”
“A scam?” I laugh. “Liv, these abs aren’t a scam. They're perfectly real.”
“Ew,” she whines. “Stop it, you’re disturbing me.”
“Liv, if you think that’s disturbing, Riley is totally boning Willow Jordan,” Waylon adds.
“I am not!” I interject at the same time Olivia excitedly exclaims, “No way!”
“He totally is,” Ethan adds.
I look to Nash, who bashfully shrugs.
“Don’t believe them. We’re just friends.”
“Since when are you friends with Willow Fucking Jordan ?” Liv asks.
“It didn’t look like you were just friends when you were all over each other on that dance floor back home,” Waylon says dubiously.
“I was just teaching the girl how to dance,” I defend.
“ Willow Jordan was the girl you brought home? Mom told me you brought someone, but for some reason, she didn’t feel the need to specify that it was Willow Jordan .”
“Guys, can we please stop yelling, ‘Willow Jordan.’ Someone’s going to overhear. ”
“Overhear that you’re fucking Willow Jordan?” Ethan suggests loudly.
“No.”
“Then why are you nervous someone will overhear?”
“Because...ugh. You guys are so annoying.”
“And you weren’t just ‘teaching her how to dance,’” Waylon scoffs, completely ignoring my pleas for them to stop. “Liv, they were all over each other. She was wearing his hat, for Christ’s sake.”
“She was wearing your hat?” Liv squeals. “Riley, that’s pretty damning.”
“She didn’t know what she was doing,” I insist.
“Oh, yes she did.” Waylon laughs. “That girl knew what she was doing. Or what about when you roundhouse-punched that guy to defend her honor? You should’ve seen it, Liv. It was straight out of a movie or something.”
“Woah, woah, woah, you punched someone to defend Willow Jordan ? Who the fuck are you?” Liv asks with a smile big enough to take up half her face. “Oh my God, she would make such an awesome sister-in-law. I bet she’d hook me up with the coolest clothes. Although, if she’s interested in you, I’m beginning to question her taste.”
“Alright, alright, that’s enough. I was serious about that meet and greet. I need to go. Y’all have fun here. I’ll be back in an hour or so. Try not to make Willow’s ears ring too badly while I’m gone,” I call over my shoulder as I walk out.
This is going to be a long night .
I was right—we were up so late that we saw the sunrise in Jacksonville. But I had a full night’s sleep last night and I’m feeling plenty ene rgized as I walk out onto the stage in Charleston, greeted by roaring cheers.
I do my typical little “I’m so glad to be here, thanks for coming out, etc.” speech before jumping into my first song. After that song ends, I begin talking into the mic again. “So, I was here a few weeks ago. Well, I was in Kiawah. I was picking up a friend ,” I emphasize, looking sideways at Waylon, who smirks back at me. “Who was staying there, and I met the greatest guy. He told me he was a huge fan and that he would be at this show. Tim, if you’re here, can you yell out?” I ask, taking off my earplugs.
I hear a shout from the left side of the crowd. “Sorry, could we try that again, but with the lights down so that I can see?” I ask. “And y’all, can we all point to Tim so I can find him?”
The lights go down, and I hear another yell, the crowd pointing to Tim.
“Tim!” I call.
“Hi, Riley!” he calls back, cupping his hands around his mouth to amplify his voice.
“I remember you told me you had all my songs memorized. What do you say you come up here and help me play one?” I offer, grinning.
Tim cheers, lifting both his arms in the air triumphantly.
“Alright, so I’m going to take that as a yes.” I laugh. “Can we create a path so Tim can come up here? Thanks, guys, y’all are the best.”
Tim makes his way up to the front of the crowd and climbs onstage with the help of a boost from a few security guards and my outstretched hand hauling him up. The crowd cheers as he straightens up next to me. Tim is grinning from ear to ear.
“Thanks for helping me out, man,” I greet him with a masculine handshake .
“No problem, I know you needed the help,” Tim jokes, and the crowd laughs.
“See, guys, I told you he was great. So, what do you want to play?”
“Anything?”
“Anything. Well, preferably something from my album, but hell, if you want to play some Skynyrd or something, we could do that too.”
Tim chuckles. “Can we do ‘Don’t Tell Me’?” he asks, naming one of my punchiest songs.
“Fuck yeah, man,” I say as a sound tech brings out another mic and a guitar for Tim.
The crowd goes wild.