Chapter Twenty-Nine
The show was electric.
I’d never seen him perform live before, at least not in this kind of setting, but something in the way the crowd responded made me feel like this one felt different to them too.
He’d played a bunch of his old songs, and every single person in the audience couldn’t help but sing every single word with him.
My gaze wandered to Ruby on more than one occasion, and I was pleasantly surprised when each time she somehow appeared happier than the time before.
Her eyes sparkled, her smiled never wavered, and her arms constantly stood straight up in the air.
But with the knowledge I had, I knew there was darkness lingering around her, like a cloud that followed her everywhere.
The lights dropped and the music silenced as Stetson maneuvered the microphone from the stand while someone from the stage crew brought out a guitar and a wooden barstool. He planted the stool behind Stetson before handing over the guitar.
“Thanks, man.” Stetson’s voice echoed through the speakers. “How we doin’ tonight?”
He barely finished speaking before the cheers erupted, filling the entire stadium.
“Damn. All right, sounds like we’re all havin’ a good time.
” His breaths were heavy and muffled through the microphone as he worked to slow his breathing.
“Nashville has been home to me for a long time and so I figure if I’m going to share a new song, there isn’t anywhere else I’d rather do it than right here, with all of you,” he said, situating himself on the stool and tuning his guitar.
I could’ve sworn I saw his fingers fumbling with the strings, alluding to his nerves.
The audience’s response was a couple of seconds delayed, almost as if they were processing what he’d just said, but when they finally did, there wasn’t one person who wasn’t screaming.
My heartbeat picked up pace, rattling against my ribs in anticipation of what came next.
A new song.
This was a huge moment, one I was grateful to be here for.
Stetson shifted his weight on the stool until one foot was propped up holding his guitar and the other was planted firmly on the ground. He looked vulnerable, like he’d opened himself up to the audience.
“I hope this song is one that you just get. One that makes you understand me a little better, but also maybe helps you understand yourself a little better too. I’ll warn ya, it’s different than my others, but I’m different than I was when I first started this journey.
I’ve learned over the last year or so that change is good, necessary even, and that just because something is working doesn’t mean it’s right.
” His words were real; they carried a truth in them that everyone wanted to hear.
“Ain’t that the fucking truth,” I mumbled under my breath.
The vibration of my phone against my butt cheek startled me and I snagged it from my back pocket, making sure it wasn’t something important.
The screen lit up, but it wasn’t the message I noticed first. It was the date illuminated right there in front of me. “Holy shit,” I whispered.
April 2nd.
His words rang even more true now when I processed that it’d been exactly a year since I ran out of that church.
I stared out at the crowd of people, thousands of them, each one eager to hear the words that would come from Stetson’s mouth.
Then I turned my attention to the man sitting strong on the stage in front of me, the man I’d been so quick to judge, so quick to write off.
And now looking at him, vulnerable and anxious to see how the real him would be received, I saw someone I looked up to, someone I was proud of, and everything in me told me I was exactly where I was supposed to be.
“I really hope ya like it,” Stetson said, moving his gaze to the side of the stage, to me, and for a split second, there wasn’t anyone else here. Only he and I existed in that moment.
I smiled, nodding at him, desperate for him to feel my confirmation that he was doing the right thing. For him to know how proud I was. His face was full of anticipation as he shot me another wink, except this time, it wasn’t just his eyes on me.
It was everyone’s.
Intrigued by each one of his moments, the crowd had traced his gaze until finally landing on me. I subtly shuffled backward to hide in the darkness; the attention of seventy thousand people was a weight I couldn’t quite bear.
Stetson picked up on what was happening and turned his head in their direction. “This song is called ‘Choices.’” He smiled, strumming the first chord alongside the cheers from the crowd.
His voice lured them back, allowing the random girl standing backstage to quickly fade from their minds.
I stood in awe, completely paralyzed as the words drifted from his lips, the familiarity of them pulling me into a hug while my own lips silently mouthed each word.
I imagined this was what it must have felt like to be a songwriter, because while I only had a small hand in writing this song, it wouldn’t be the same without them. Even the ache in my cheeks couldn’t stop me from smiling.
The crowd had taken it upon themselves to pull their phones out, lighting the darkness with their screens as they swayed to the rhythm of the music.
The view was something you had to witness to fully understand. Looking out at the sea of what appeared to be tiny little stars glistening in the night sky made me realize that this was what Stetson witnessed every night.
How could he not want to do this?
“The best one of my choices, was finding strength in my own voice.” Stetson’s voice slowly tapered off, but not before the crowd went completely fucking wild.
They were louder than they’d been all night, but the sounds weren’t the whoops and hollers like before.
This time, their sounds had more emotion.
Their cheers were filled with understanding, their screams filled with passion, and there were even some tears. Those were filled with hope.
The atmosphere was truly magical.
And just when I thought they were finally falling silent, it revved up again.
I watched as Stetson made his way to his feet, handing his guitar off and taking the microphone in his hand.
He walked toward the end of the stage that jutted out into the audience and squatted down.
His arms rested on his thighs, his hands clasped together in front of him as his head dropped low.
I couldn’t see his eyes—no one could because of his hat—but I still knew exactly what they looked like. Little blue spheres of light beaming with pride and yet still humbled by all of it.
He didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. Everyone already knew.
He’d poured his heart out on that stage with that song and those lyrics.
Everyone could feel it, but based on the fact that I was practically floating from the butterflies flapping incessantly inside of me, I had a feeling that I felt it deeper than most. It was a moment I wanted to snap a picture of, store it in the albums of my brain that I could flip through whenever I wanted.
My tears from earlier rebuilt momentum and this time I let them trickle over.
The song had ended minutes ago and yet the crowd was showing no signs of stopping.
It was hard to put into words what it felt like watching him in his element, watching him bask in something that I believed he never thought would come.
But I did know that this man was so deserving of this moment and all the moments to come from this album.
His vulnerability and bravery to share this side of himself with millions of people was inspiring and made me proud to know him.
He shook his head as he popped up, placing the microphone to his lips.
“You all don’t know what this means to me.
There were so many times I almost didn’t write this song, let alone this whole damn album, but thankfully I’ve had a few good people in my corner through this process who have pushed me to keep going.
” Again, he turned to grasp my attention, making the fulfillment that filled my insides almost burst out of me.
“And based on your response, I’m sure as hell glad I did. ”
It took everything in me not to run out on that stage and hug that man so hard, but this was his moment, and he deserved to let himself enjoy it.
Stetson stood, gazing out at the crowd. “Thank you. I can’t wait for you to hear the rest. Have a good night and get home safe.”
He rotated around before jogging off the stage and straight to me. “They loved it,” he said, wrapping me into a big hug and pulling me from the ground. His body was warm and wet from his sweat-soaked skin.
“I knew they would. There was never a doubt in my mind,” I insisted. “You were incredible out there. It was unlike anything I’ve ever seen before. How could they not love it?”
“It felt so good.” Excitement beamed through him.
“It felt like the words I was singing were words I actually believed. Like for the first time, everyone was getting to see who I was and what I really looked like on the inside without the smoke and bullshit.” His breath slowed a bit from the adrenaline as he put me back down on the ground.
His thumb landed lightly under my chin. “Thank you, Scarlett.”
“Why are you thanking me? You did all of this.” I shook my head, finding it hard to accept his gratitude.
“No. You pushed me. Challenged me to not give in when Mark desperately wanted me to. And you showed me that sometimes the right choice is the hardest one, but it can also be the most rewarding.”
His mouth was salty as his lips connected with mine, but I didn’t care. I would’ve kissed that man any chance I got.
“Uncle Stetson!” a voice screeched from backstage.
We were always getting interrupted, but this time, I approved.
“Ruby. My girl. What did you think of the show?” Stetson gently pulled back from me before wrapping Ruby in a hug of her own.