Chapter 5
Raleigh
SO FAR, SO GOOD. Mae is shimmering tonight, and Trenton has been a perfect gentleman. The two have been nearly inseparable on stage. Even when Mae’s only on guitar, they’re shoulder to shoulder, sneaking kisses between verses. The crowd loves it too.
As the set nears completion Mae leans into him and whispers in his ear.
Trenton swallows his sip of beer and nods.
Coming back up to the mic, he moves his capo and lets the crowd hollow out as Mae comes back up to join him.
Her guitar is strung across her back and a microphone has appeared from a stagehand, a retro ribbon mic with a cord. It’s all for the aesthetic of course.
Smirking, Mae twirls a finger through the extension cord as Trenton strums his guitar and looks out over the sea of fans who, despite the long set, have not tired.
“Our last song of the evening,” Trenton begins. He’s met with a chorus of boos. Mae sticks out her lower lip and pouts but turns to Trenton as he finishes his statement. “This is an old classic, but you all seem to like it when we play it, so I’d like to close tonight’s show with ‘Golden Ring.’”
The cheering is deafening. As the guitar kicks in, I’m transported to a world that only a classic country song could take me. The story of a wedding ring as it journeys from a pawn shop, to a wedding chapel, to the floor during a couple’s fight, to its return to a pawn shop shelf.
It brings a tear to my eye every time I hear it.
I often imagine how my life could have turned out, how Mae’s could still turn out, and how Tammy and George’s life together ended.
As the last word reverberates through the silenced crowd and eventually dies, it’s immediately replaced with the whoops and hollers of a satisfied crowd.
The level of awe continues as the band leaves the stage in preparation of what will be a quick turnaround for an encore.
Hand in hand, Mae and Trenton bound over to our side of the stage.
They stop just short of me. Facing each other, they lace their hands together and he leans in to kiss her.
I avert my gaze, finding sanctity in my phone, but the kiss is brief.
Forehead to forehead, I can see Mae’s mouth moving but I can’t hear her.
Trenton stands straight up quickly and seems to be questioning Mae but she’s just smiling sweetly and nodding her head. In a huff of breath, Trenton makes his way back to the stage, alone. Typically Mae follows.
Worried, I take two leaping steps toward Mae, but she’s already waving me down, moving toward me in confidence.
“All I told him was to take his moment,” she says with a nod of her head.
She looks proud, as if it was a big step for her.
Beaming, she shifts her body to look back out on stage but then her expression changes.
Trenton is staring at us from his microphone, his face is unreadable except for maybe a twinge of sadness. What’s he got to be sad about?
“Now, why’d they have to go and do that?” Mae whispers shakily next to me. It’s then that I hear the crowd, growing louder with every chant. They want Mae, and they want her now.
“Well we can’t worry about that right now,” I say. Jumping into action, I dab at her face with a cotton ball, absorbing some of the sweat. An assistant procures lip gloss and Mae reapplies as her guitar is strapped back onto her.
Back out on stage, Trenton has recovered.
He turns back to the crowd, strumming his guitar and smiling.
Whether he’s genuinely relieved or is putting on a show, I’m sure we’ll learn as soon as the lights lower.
I squint my eyes at him and my stomach clenches.
Please be chill about it. I don’t know who I’m trying to fool.
He most definitely will not be chill about this.
Moving my attention to my star, I squeeze Mae’s hand before she straightens her shoulders and steps back into the spotlight.
Raising her hand, she waves and the crowd’s roar grows to ear splitting levels.
Her sunny disposition ignites the crowd as she steps up next to Trenton.
He plants a kiss on her head before they start to play their guitars in sync.
Soon the pedal steel enters the arrangement, and the two of them are tussling through a rendition of “If We’re Not Back In Love By Monday” and kill it.
It’s a short song, and not all that energetic, but the way they sing it is almost theatrical, causing people to laugh at the word play and cry with heartache when the story concludes.
When the song does end, the two are lost in their own world, only breaking from it when Mae leans into the shared mic and makes an announcement.
“I know y’all love our duets, and I love that you love that.
” A screech from a fan near the front trips her up but only for a moment before continuing, “I know, love. But Trenton’s got a new one for you tonight! ”
There's a confused but satisfied energy amongst the concertgoers as Trenton rears back. He doesn’t look angry, just surprised, but then Mae whispers in his ear again and the simmering heat of an oncoming meltdown enters his stature once again.
He opens his mouth but then must remember where he is because instead he smirks and places his own hat on her head.
This little play catches the women’s attention; I swear I hear a collective sigh.
Sensing the positive reaction, Trenton throws his guitar across his back and pulls Mae to him.
The kiss is deep and thorough, making me believe for a split second that maybe I’d like something like that someday.
The spell is broken all too quickly however, and Mae’s taken a step back to allow for Trenton to have his moment.
She’s far too kind for her own good sometimes.
I simply hope she finds a man that deserves all that kindness and returns it in full someday.
I try my damndest not to think about their relationship, or my lack of one as the song progresses, but for the first time in my life, I can’t seem to distract myself from Trenton’s lyrics.
It’s a song I’ve never heard before, and that’s saying a lot, but it might be his best song.
It’s about Mae—at least I hope it is. He croons about whispers of kisses, late night dances, the sting of calloused hands on guitar strings, and the body of a woman.
To make matters more steamy, his eyes never once leave Mae’s, who’s acting oblivious.
It’s enough to make me swallow a heady gulp of air.
The song is taking me back to things I almost had.
If things had gone just a bit differently, this might have been my life.
That reality is a world away, something that I gave up a lifetime ago.
Nonetheless, I find myself fighting off the thoughts of them.
I’m fighting so hard that I have to draw my gaze away from Mae and the trance she’s under to the flashing of the phones in the crowd.
Mouths are agape, women have their hands covering their mouths in awe, men have their arms around their dates, and one man seems to be near tears.
I blink away my own and see that the man with watery eyes is one of the bodyguards.
He’s watching the stage with such intent that for a second, I allow myself to wonder if he’s looking for the same things that I am.
The immersion is broken when the song ends and Trenton shares a nervous laugh with the crowd. “That one’s called ‘Mae.’”
My head swivels to the couple. Had he really truly written that stunning song about Mae? Looking for confirmation from her, I see that she has nothing but a big smile and reassuring nod. She’s in on it and the knowledge of that eases my suspicious mind.
I let the tug of past emotions dissipate as the band transitions into the final medley of the night, needing to allow myself the smallest bit of peace before the show is over.
***
Ears and eyes pretend not to tune in on Mae and Trenton’s post show argument, but after everything that happened on stage, how in love they looked, it’s hard for anyone not to be intrigued.
“Don’t ever spring that one on me again!” he says, getting dangerously close to her. A step closer and I’ll pounce.
Mae just scoffs and turns away from him. “There are literally people still here cheering for you!”
Trenton grabs her hand. I sigh and leap into action, no one wants anyone to get an assault charge tonight. “Okay guys, we had a really good night. Let's not waste it on an argument,” I say, ever the adult.
Trenton completely ignores me, swinging Mae around and knocking the hat off her head. “Don’t do it again.”
I see something flick behind Mae’s eyes, fear or anger I’m not sure, but she goes along with herself anyway.
Reaching down for the hat that’s now on the floor, she dusts it off and speaks, “I know the label didn’t know if it’d be a seller, but we found out tonight.
” She shoves the hat into Trenton’s hands and turns to me.
We link arms and head for the greenroom.
The pesky knotting in my stomach that’s been building since Trenton exited the encore in a misplaced rage finally starts to ease.
“You want to explain that one to me?” I whisper.
Mae sighs. “He’s just been at odds with the label lately, that’s all.”
She leaves it at that, and while I definitely need to get to the bottom of it all, tonight is certainly not the time.
Instead, I help Mae begin to gather her things.
The after show white noise buzz fills the space.
I imagine it’s much worse for Mae who just spent three hours on stage.
An announcement over the speakers fills the void, telling those present that the bar is closing and that concert attendees need to start clearing out.
Wanting some fresh air, I grab a roller bag and exit out the back where Mae’s ride is already waiting.
There’s only one car which tells me that Trenton will be riding with her, and I will probably be walking.
I can see the tippy top of my apartment building from this lot so it won’t be the worst walk I’ve ever taken.
I’m about to load the bag into the car when Trenton breaks free of the venue and leads Mae and his team into the back lot.
Straightening, I meet Mae halfway. Our time together will inevitably be brief so I quickly run through her itinerary for the next week.
A few days off and then a friend’s concert at the end of the week.
She embraces me sweetly, and we share a quick hand hold before I step back and Trenton escorts her into the car.
Someone takes the bag from my hand, and I take that as my queue to get a quick move on.
“You’re not walking.” I hear gruffly from behind me.
The statement wasn’t posed as a question.
Turning on my heel, I find the same burly security guard I’d seen multiple times in the past few weeks; the same one who had tears in his eyes earlier.
He’s holding the door for Trenton, who has also turned to observe the conversation.
It’s the last thing I want. After a brief faceoff with no reaction from me, the man closes the door in Trenton’s face which gets me to laugh.
This may end up being an annoying conversation but at least I got to see that.
“Pardon me?” I ask with a grin. I like getting on this guy’s nerves. I did it earlier when he was looking at me from the crowd, and I’m about to do it again.
Unfortunately, his lips aren’t able to form words quickly enough because Mae is rolling down her window. “You’re walking?” she asks, incredulously.
“I live just down the street. You know that Mae,” I say. Trying not to scold, trying not to gather anymore attention.
“You shouldn’t be walking this late by yourself.” The statement comes from the same man yet again, causing me to put my hands on my hips and jut out a leg in annoyance.
“Listen Mr. Macho Man, I do it all the time, and I don’t mind it–”
Mae is practically hanging out the car window now, dead curls hanging over the door. “Raleigh, you don’t have to do that. Hop in with us!”
I hear Trenton laugh before his face appears next to Mae. They almost look cute together. “Don’t get too hasty, little miss.” Cuteness gone. “I’ll have one of the guys drive you.”
“How courteous of you,” I grit out. The guard I’ve become familiar with steps forward, but Trenton is already calling for someone else.
“Dalton, you’ve got the keys in your hand, I’ll have Mitch drive her!”
I watch Dalton take an unfortunate step backward before tapping the hidden piece in his ear and summoning this Mitch guy.
It takes a few seconds, but another blacked out SUV pulls up behind us and rolls down the window. A good looking man with straight, slicked back hair rolls down the window and smiles at me.
“See, now we’re all happy!” Trenton exclaims before retreating into the car with Mae and rolling up his window once again.
“You’re Mitch?” I call over the idled engine.
“At your service!” he says with an awkward little bow, the steering wheel stopping him from getting anywhere.
Hardly wanting to waste any more energy, I throw open the door and hop inside.
The immediate smell of leather and overwhelming cologne hits me like a freight train so I turn back to the window to mask my distaste. Dalton is standing there.
“Try not to breathe through your nose,” he mouths.
I feel one corner of my mouth lift as I mouth back, “I’ll try.”