Sleep, eat, soundcheck, eat, show, after party, eat, sleep.
It is a strange way to live a life. Like a shift worker, I sleep through the day and wake up for work late in the afternoon. On this particular day, I didn’t wake to the sound of my cell phone alarm belting out whatever 80’s classic I had set it to that day. Instead, it was a frantic pounding on the door, the signature style of my bodyguard, alerting me to the fact that I was late. Again.
This would mean going to soundcheck party, a time we allow our fans to share some insight into the lives of a touring musician for the low-low price of a week’s pay, without showering or eating. I know my fans pretty well by now. Well enough to know that greasy, messed up hair, yesterday’s clothes and chomping away on an apple was not a look that they didn’t still find desirable.
Sure enough, as a dribble of apple juice made it’s way down my chin and I ran to grab my guitar and my seat next to my band mate, they not only screamed at my presence on stage but continued to look at me with an expression that read nothing short of ‘I want you inside me’. If day-old stubble, unbrushed teeth, a just-fucked hairdo and jeans so ripe they might walk away on their own accord, was something these ladies like, who am I to deny them?
As I sat tuning my instrument (the guitar, get your mind out of the gutter) I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was being watched. I mean, I knew I was being watched. The three hundred fans sitting in the seats in front of me snapping pictures and videos with their cell phones were fair evidence to that fact. It’s different when the gaze is not that of a stranger’s but rather someone you know, someone whose eyes you are accustomed to.
I had been seeing ghosts for a long time. Not real ghosts, mind you, but ghosts from my past. One of these apparitions in particular had been causing me some mental fatigue, haunting me in my dreams enough that the only good sleep I was getting was while my alarm was going off. It was that lingering spirit that I could feel and I scanned the room as best as I could against the lights shining in my face just to ensure it was all in my head.
The lighting crew was using our soundcheck time to test the lights for the show, which made it nearly impossible to see every face in the crowd. It had been a long time since I’d seen her, so in spite of a sixth-sense feeling of dread I had to accept that she was still lost to me.
“Nick, you paying attention?” my bandmate, Brian, asked of me and I realized they had started a song without me. Shaking my head free of cobwebs I gave the crowd my signature smirk as an apology for being distracted and caught up with the group.
We ran through a couple of songs at the back of the stage before ditching the instruments to move to the front and answer a few questions. I couldn’t resist the smiling, happy faces and I leaned down to graze my hand against the fingers that were reaching out for me. It was when I went to stand that I knew I saw her. I did a double take because my eyes had been known to play tricks on me when it came to her. She really was there though, standing at the back with the other Bronze level VIP attendees.
Her arms were crossed tightly across her ample chest, a cascade of brown hair pulled into a tight ponytail high atop her head and the sharp angle of her cheekbones making the menacing glare she was sending me all the more frightening. She was as terrifyingly beautiful as I’d ever seen her.
“Alright, who has a question?” our tour manager asked the crowd.
My eye contact with her didn’t break as her hand shot up in the air. I tried to protest without drawing any attention to myself, sending frantic, wide-eyed glances toward the man with the mic as he made his way over to the tall beauty on the end of the aisle who I’m certain was about to eat me alive with everyone watching, like a dinner scene from Hannibal.
“There’s...someone over here with a question!” I called out, my voice breaking with the nerves, but it was too late. The microphone was already clutched under her slender fingers, capped with royal purple manicured nails.
“Hi guys,” she cooed and I couldn’t help but sigh. It had been so long since I’d last heard her voice and in spite of everything, it was still music to my ears.
“Blast from the past right there everyone,” AJ’s raspy voice echoed through the room. “Girl, it has been a long time since we last saw you. What’s your question?”
I knew that my bandmates were all wondering what she was doing standing in the audience, given the circumstances, but they would never show their unease. They each took the opportunity to quickly glance between me and her while we waited for her question.
“My question is for Nick.”
The way she said my name, hanging on to the emphasis on the last letter with a click from the back of her tongue, was how I knew she was pissed. I didn’t know what to expect, but I had a feeling that her question was about to end with me answering a lot of very different questions.
“I’m just wondering when you think you’ll man up and finally sign our divorce papers?”
I could feel the eyes again, but this time they belonged to everyone; my friends, my employees, the fans, random staff from the venue and most importantly…my wife.
Author's Chapter Notes:
Oh hey there! Long time, no see. This has been sitting on my virtual shelf for a while now and I thought it was about time to dust it off and present it to the world. Let me know what you think!
