Chapter One – Alex. #2
A.J. takes the stage for himself, even though he only has short solos in this song; Thomas Fontaine, the biggest quiet guy in history, plays his bass without much fuss, but the looks this man throws at the crowd are hypnotizing me, and I’m not even facing him!
Richard Parker, the man you are! If more men saw how he treats that drum kit, they’d learn what women like.
With his powerful vocals, Guilherme Almeida is the man of the night.
Not like I didn’t know that. After all, we were bandmates for three years.
It’s even weird to think about it now and how it all ended.
So, I shake my head and let myself dance to the rhythm of the songs, just like a good Vagabonder would.
Between pop rock, ballads, and more upbeat songs, I realize they’re in the best place for an artist to be. On a stage, receiving love and delivering great music.
An hour later, they take a break, and Richard jumps off the drums to introduce the backup musicians and the band to the crowd.
I search for my phone in my pocket with an almost childlike hope that my dad has sent a message, but then remember that I didn’t bring it to the stage.
I shift my weight, watching the boys who’ve already been introduced drink water while Richard calls A.J.
, and the screams, always loud, hit new levels.
“I love this one!” one of the production girls shouts enthusiastically as she stops next to me.
“The next song?” I ask, wishing for earplugs because of the noise, and she nods. “What’s this one?”
She blinks twice, removes her headset, and I almost ask to borrow it.
“ One Last Kiss ?” The girl looks at me like I should know. Then she flashes a sly smile. “It’s everyone’s favorite,” she shouts in my ear when the song starts, and the crowd goes into a complete frenzy.
I’m straining to catch the lyrics, but it’s hopeless.
I doubt the boys can even hear themselves without their monitors.
The redhead next to me starts screaming as loudly as possible, her eyes never leaving A.J.
, and I realize the uproar is to get his attention, which he clearly doesn’t hear.
But I do, so I can understand the lyrics, and the collective hysteria makes even less sense to me.
The song is about a guy who lost his woman and wants to kiss her again.
That’s it.
I furrow my brow at their desperation and the efforts of the redhead in heat next to me. Until I notice A.J. coming in my direction.
“He’s going to kiss you,” she smiles, excited for me, as if I’ve won the lottery.
“I need to kiss a fan during this song. Can it be you?” he asks into the microphone before I even process what she said.
My jaw drops, and I stop him with both hands on his rock-hard chest.
“Your fans are down there,” I reply, also into the mic, torn between shock and disdain. “And I think you should kiss that one over there.” I point to the first girl I see in the crowd who looks of legal age.
A.J. closes his eyes, shaking his head as the girl climbs onto the barricade.
“You’re a lucky girl,” he tells her, still facing me, tilting his head sideways and saying that to the brunette with a headband on top of the barricade. “And you... I’ll be watching you,” A.J. shouts out of the microphone in terrible Portuguese, and I burst out laughing.
“Why did he do that?”
My stage-side colleague looks at me as if I’ve committed a crime.
“He always kisses someone,” she replies, pointing at the big screen on stage.
The security guards pull the fan inside the barricade, and he exchanges a few words with her off-mic, maybe asking her name and age, if he doesn’t want to end up in jail or whatever.
Then he places his hand on the back of her neck and pulls her in for a kiss that it’d be banned in theaters in at least twenty countries because of how he’s leaning over her slender, surrendered body.
“Aren’t you guys afraid of catching thrush” I shout to the redhead after swallowing hard, and she shakes her head, laughing. “Anyway, I’m leaving. See you tomorrow at the same time, in the same stadium.”
That’s enough boyband for today
“Hold on, sweetheart, that’s not how the band works,” her right hand gently grabs my arm.
“I can’t leave?”
“Of course not. We have the after-party for the tour launch at the boys' rooftop after the show. Go rest in the girls’ dressing room.”
“I’m not going. It’s a band party.”
“It’s a party for everyone who helped make this day happen!
You saw how they were floating with you two on that stage?
” The question is rhetorical because I try to speak, but she raises her hand to me.
“You might be lacking heat, but you and A.J. will come around sooner or later. With A.J., we always come. ”
I stare at her for a few seconds, too stunned to speak.
“Too much information, you know? See you later.” I try to erase the image of the two of them making out from my mind as I head toward the dressing room.
Apparently, I have one more place to go in this dress tonight.