Chapter 26
The roar of the crowd pulsed through me as I stepped off the stage, my heart pounding in rhythm with their cheers. For twenty blissful minutes, everything else faded away and I revelled in the crowd’s joy.
But reality came crashing back and the high faded quickly as I made my way into the dark wings. The noise of the crowd dulled, replaced by the organised craziness of backstage—roadies shouting instructions, equipment clattering, the low thrum of generators. My ears rang with the sudden absence of chatting and bass.
I swiped a water bottle from a passing tech, chugging it greedily. My throat was raw, my body buzzing with spent energy. I needed a minute. Just a minute to breathe, to process before diving into the post-show madness.
Alys materialised at my elbow, her face uncharacteristically serious. “Liv, there you are. I’ve been trying to catch you.”
I grinned at her, still riding the wave of euphoria. “Hey! Did you see that crowd tonight? They were insane! I swear, Vancouver topped Pasadena.”
She didn’t return my smile. She held out my phone, her brow creased with concern. “Your mom’s been calling. A lot. I didn’t want to bother you before the show, but… I think you need to call her back. Like, now.”
The giddy balloon in my chest deflated, a cold sense of foreboding taking its place. My mama knew never to call before a show unless it was an emergency. With shaking hands, I took the phone, staring down at the missed call notifications lighting up the screen.
Three missed calls. All from Mama.
“Thanks,” I said, my throat suddenly dry despite the water I’d just gulped. “I… I’ll find somewhere quiet to call her back.”
Alys squeezed my shoulder, her blue eyes filled with understanding. “Take your time.”
I nodded, already heading for the maze of hallways that snaked through the stadium’s backstage. I needed privacy for this. Whatever it was.
My heart hammered against my ribs as I wound my way deeper into the concrete labyrinth, the sounds of the crew fading behind me. Roadies and techs rushed past, barely sparing me a glance. Everyone was in their own world back here, focused on the million tasks that needed doing to keep a tour of this scale running smoothly.
I finally found a relatively secluded corner, tucked between a rack of cables and a stack of instrument cases. With trembling fingers, I hit the call button, raising the phone to my ear. It rang once. Twice.
“Olivia?” My mother’s voice was thick, strained in a way I’d never heard before. “It’s so nice to hear from you.”
I couldn’t process her attempt at pleasantries. If something was wrong, I needed it ripped off like a band-aid so I could figure out how to fix it.
“Mama, what’s wrong? Are you okay?” The words tumbled out in a rush, my free hand clenching at my side. “Is it Dustin? Did something happen at the shop?”
There was a long pause, broken only by a shuddering breath on the other end of the line. “Baby, I… I need you to be strong right now, okay? Can you do that for me?”
Ice slid down my spine, my stomach plummeting to my toes. “Mama, you’re scaring me. What’s going on?”
Another pause. Another ragged breath. Then, “I’m sick, Livvie. Real sick. The doctors, they… they found a tumour. Cancer. Stage four.”
The world tilted, my knees going weak. I braced a hand against the rough concrete wall, trying to keep myself upright. This couldn’t be happening. It had to be a mistake, a terrible dream I could wake up from.
“No,” I whispered, my voice cracking. “No, that’s not… Mama, are they sure? Maybe it’s a mistake, maybe?—”
“It’s not a mistake, baby.” Her words were gentle but firm, laced with a resigned sort of sadness that shattered my heart. “I’ve known for a while now. Been going through treatments, but… it’s not responding like we hoped.”
Hot, stinging tears blurred my vision. I blinked them back furiously, refusing to break. Not now. Not when she needed me to be strong.
“What do you mean ‘a while’?” I demanded, anger and fear warring in my chest. “How long have you known? Why didn’t you tell me?”
She sighed, the sound heavy with weariness and regret. “A few months. I didn’t want to worry you, not with the tour and everything. I thought… I thought I had more time.”
Months. She’d been fighting this battle for months. Guilt and grief crashed over me in nauseating waves.
Terminal. She was terminal. The doctors had given her an expiration date.
Bile rose in my throat, hot and acrid. I swallowed it down, forcing my voice to remain steady.
“I’m coming home. Today. As soon as I can get a flight.”
“No, Livvie, you can’t,” she said, her tone riddled with steel, the infamous Monroe backbone showing through. “You’ve got obligations, people counting on you. I won’t let you throw that away, not for me.”
“To hell with obligations!” The words burst out of me, too loud in the echoing hallway. “You’re my mama. You’re more important than any tour or album or… or anything.”
Her breath hitched and her muffled sniffles rattled the phone as she tried to hide it. It broke me in ways I couldn’t begin to comprehend.
“Please don’t do this. Don’t make me the reason you give up on your dreams.”
I needed to be there for her. In whatever way I could, for however long I had left.
“You listen to me, Mama.” My voice shook but my resolve was iron-clad. “There is nothing, nothing in this world more important to me than you. Not the tour, not my career, not a damn thing. I’m coming home and that’s final.”
She was silent for a long moment. I could practically feel her resistance, her stubborn desire to put everyone else’s needs above her own. But this time, I wouldn’t let her.
Couldn’t let her.
Finally, she let out a shuddering sigh. “Okay. If that’s what you need to do… then I understand. I don’t like it, but I understand.”
Relief and grief tangled in my chest, a bittersweet knot. “There’ll be other tours.”
I hoped.
“Right.” She didn’t sound so convinced, but I didn’t stop to question it.
“I’ll call you as soon as I have a flight. I love you, Mama. So much.”
“I love you too, Livvie. More than all the stars in the sky.”
The tears came then, hot and blinding. I let them fall as I ended the call, great silent sobs wrenching through me.
It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right. She was too young, too fucking necessary. The world couldn’t take her yet. I couldn’t lose her yet.
But I was losing her. Had already lost her, in the ways that mattered most. Lost her to this disease eating her up from the inside out.
Anger and helplessness twisted within me, raging and impotent. I wanted to scream, to rage, to tear the whole fucking stadium down with my bare hands. But I couldn’t. I had to keep it together. Had to hold on, just a little longer.
I had to tell Lily. They needed to know I was leaving, that I wouldn’t be there to open tomorrow’s show in Vancouver or any of the shows after that.
It was going to be a shitstorm. I knew that. Knew there would be consequences, fallout I couldn’t even begin to predict. But I didn’t care.
None of it mattered. Not in the face of this.
I pushed off the wall, swiping at my tears with the back of my hand. I needed to find Lily. Needed to rip the band-aid off, to set this all in motion before I lost my nerve.
My feet carried me through the maze of hallways, past startled roadies and curious glances. Let them look. Let them wonder. It didn’t matter.
Nothing fucking mattered except getting home to my mama.
But no matter where I looked, I couldn’t find Lily. She didn’t answer her phone, either.
Frustration and urgency clawed at my throat. I didn’t have time for this. Didn’t have time to play hide-and-seek while my mother was… was…
“You alright there, Olivia?”
I spun around to find Kevin, the band’s manager, eyeing me with a mix of concern and annoyance. I must have barged past him but I couldn’t remember it.
“No.” The word came out choked, strangled. “I… I have to go. I’m leaving the tour.”
“What?” His jaw slackened for a second. “Why?”
“My mother…” My voice cracked, grief welling up like blood from a wound. “She’s sick. Really sick. I have to go to her.”
For a moment, his expression softened, a flicker of sympathy breaking through the blustering outrage. But it was gone as quickly as it came.
“I understand that, Olivia. I do. But we have commitments. Contracts. You can’t just walk away from those.”
Red-hot fury surged through me, momentarily burning away the pain. How dare he? How fucking dare he try to guilt me, to hold me hostage with legalese and fine print when my world was crumbling?
“I can and I will.” Each word was ice, smooth, cold and brittle. “My mother is dying. So frankly, I don’t give a fuck about commitments or contracts. I’m going home. Today. And if you try to stop me, I swear to god I will raise holy hell the likes of which you’ve never seen.”
We glared at each other, a battle of wills played out in the scuffed concrete hallway. But I refused to bend. Refused to break.
Not now. Not for this.
Finally, Kevin sighed, raising his hands in grudging surrender. “Fine. Go. I’ll… I’ll figure something out.”
“Thank you.” The words were hollow, meaningless. What did I care for his permission? I was going either way.
But I needed one last thing from him.
“I need you to tell Lewis.” My voice wavered, just slightly. “I can’t… I don’t have time to find him. To explain.”
It was too much. Too fucking much on top of everything else.
Kevin nodded, his expression unreadable. “I’ll tell him. I can’t promise he’ll understand, but I’ll tell him.”