Chapter 8 Mabel #2
“There’s this restaurant. The rooftop bar is open late, and they always have live music.
Jazz or blues, usually, but it’s chill. We used to go every time we were in Melbourne, but I haven’t been in a while.
Savvy can’t really go anywhere anymore—not without prior notice so we can either rent the place or stack it with security—but you and I could go tonight. ”
She smiles, and even from the distance, I can see a tint of pink color her cheeks. It’s the good kind of blush. The one that makes my pulse kick up, and I find myself holding my breath as I wait for an answer.
“Okay. That sounds like good. I mean fun. I mean...” She pauses, takes a deep breath, then starts over. “Yes. That sounds fun. I would like that.”
I have to work to keep my grin from stretching wider. “I’ll see you after the show.”
She laughs, light and tinkling, then nods. “See you after.”
I resist the urge to watch as she leaves and head into the dressing room, taking smooth, even breaths to calm the fluttering in my stomach.
There’s a nagging voice in the back of my mind telling me to be careful.
To watch what I say and how I act. It’s been there since yesterday morning in Aurora’s hotel room, and while I possibly took the teasing too far with the yogurt, it was innocent.
She’s just too fun to poke, is all. Her reactions are fascinating, but it’s nothing. It’s harmless teasing.
And what just happened in the hallway...
I take a deep breath and blink away the thoughts.
It's innocent.
She’s new here, and I want her to feel welcome. I could use the company, and she seems like she could use a friend.
It’s been a long time since I’ve done much of anything fun, actually.
I’m just going to show her some fun, is all.
It’s all totally innocent.
By the time we’re stepping on stage, I’m vibrating with excitement.
The promise of music, of a loudly cheering crowd full of diehard fans, soothes the ever-present itch that sits just under my skin. It’s like this for every show, and I’m fucking relieved the dread I’d felt during sound check didn’t stick around.
I take my place behind my set, adjust my in-ears, and grab one of my three pairs of drumsticks.
I listen for the click track to start, and when Jonah plays the first chords to our opening song, I ready my sticks.
The crowd goes wild, but I can hear my band perfectly through my earpieces, and when the stage lights turn on—right on cue—I close my eyes and play.
I don’t open them again until the final notes fade and Sav greets the crowd.
“How you doin’ tonight, Melbourne?” Sav’s husky voice booms through the stadium, and the audience erupts. She turns to look at me. “That’s what we like to hear, isn’t it, Mabes?”
I pound out a quick beat in agreement, and she laughs as the crowd grows louder.
“We’re so fucking excited to be back here with you. It’s been too long, hasn’t it, guys?”
“Too fucking long,” Torren says into his mic, and I roll my eyes when high-pitched screams of excitement come from the floor. Torren King, our resident heartthrob.
“We took a little time off to make this new album. It’s called Riot She Wrote.
Have you heard of it?” Sav cups her hand to her ear as the crowd roars, and she smirks as she leans into her mic.
“Oh, so you have heard of it. Well, if it’s all right with you guys, we’d like to play that album for you tonight. ”
When we launch into our title track, they cheer so loud that, I swear, the walls of the stadium shake.
Sav’s the ultimate performer, and our fans might as well be an extension of her guitar.
She knows exactly what to say, and just watching her for a few minutes is all the explanation needed for our global popularity.
Sav Loveless is a fucking showboat, and our fans eat it up, then beg for more every single time.
If I could bottle this feeling, collect every ounce of adoration and love emanating from this crowd and store it away, I’d do it.
It’s impossible to feel alone when you’re holding the attention of thousands of people, and while their eyes are trained on Sav or the guys, I’m still a part of it; that’s all I need.
I’m in the background, an undercurrent instead of a focus, but it’s worth it.
It’s worth it just to be part of something bigger than myself.
I seek out the VIP tent. Aurora said it had been a long time since she’d been to a concert, and I want to know if she’s enjoying herself. I need to know if she’s buzzing from this energy, too. The moment I find her, her eyes are already on me.
Not Sav. Not Torren or Jo. Me.
I smile and incline my head, nodding at her. Her own smile stretches wide as she brings her hand up and waves. It’s one of those cute, coquettish finger waves, her delicate wrist adorned with a stack of beaded bracelets, and for a moment, I think I feel a blush color my own cheeks.
I can only see her from the waist up, but I can tell she’s changed clothes.
Instead of the blue cotton dress she had on in the hallway, she’s wearing something black and strapless.
Her blonde hair is pulled back into a sleek ponytail, with her curtain bangs framing her heart-shaped face.
I squint, trying to refine my view. I want to see her eyes.
Her lips. The slope of her shoulders where they meet her neck.
I find myself interested in every little detail.
She’s got a necklace decorating her collarbone, and I’m studying the jewelry when movement just behind her snags my attention.
I flinch and my stomach drops. A feeling I can’t process overwhelms me, and for the first time in years, I fumble the beat.
I tear my gaze from the VIPs and focus on my floor tom.
I adjust my grip on my sticks, then close my eyes to reorient my body with the music in my ear monitors.
I take several deep breaths to get my shit together, and when I’m certain I’m seeing clearly, I cast my attention back toward the VIP tent.
Kat.
I blink again.
She’s still there. Standing behind Aurora, scrolling on her phone. She’s absolutely impossible to miss now that I know she’s there. I’m not sure how I didn’t see her to begin with.
I bring my attention back to my drum set, careful to skip right over my manager’s twenty-three-year-old niece and her sexy, bare shoulders.
Kat’s here.
My girlfriend’s here in Melbourne, when she wasn’t supposed to come until Auckland. She must have cancelled her other events. She must have cancelled them so she could come early. She cancelled them for me.
Sav said if Kat wanted to, she would.
Aurora said it, too.
And now, Kat has. She’s done something to make me a priority, and for the fucking life of me, I can’t ignore the sinking feeling in my stomach.