Tommy was never more ready in his life. He’d waited for this moment for months. During that time, he’d questioned his plan and regretted deceiving his friends and the grief he caused them. But listening to the screams of anticipation from the crowd reassured him that it was all worth it.
He lovingly gripped the neck of his Les Paul and rattled off his signature intro. He was about to run on stage and slide to the apron but stopped.
“What now?” Angel asked.
“Instead of coming out one at a time, let’s all run on stage at the same time tonight. It’ll surprise the fans.”
They all nodded, so Tommy started again. This time, when he let loose with the intro on his Les Paul, all four of them ran on stage together. Jimmy took his spot behind the drums. Damien stood on the left. Angel took center stage. And Tommy slid on his knees to the end of the apron.
Surprise made the fans scream even louder.
Without saying anything into the mic, because the fans had waited too long to hear Immortal Angel perform, the band went straight into their first song. There was a brief lull in the roar from the crowd, but as soon as they realized they were listening to new music, they cheered so loudly they almost overpowered Angel’s voice. Almost.
The title of the song was “Home,” and it was the song Angel and Jessi caught Tommy playing in the basement studio with Mason and Lucas. He had written the song, including the lyrics, specifically for this comeback performance and was so excited about it that he couldn’t wait to hear the drumbeats behind it. Since he couldn’t tell Jimmy about it without revealing his plan, he had turned to the next best drummer he knew—Mason.
Just as Angel had predicted that day in the basement, the song was a surefire hit and the crowd was going ballistic, but it was nothing compared to the energy that Tommy felt. Fire coursed through his veins, and he jumped around on stage. He circled Angel, and their eyes locked with chemistry that could be felt throughout the arena.
With their backs pressed together, Angel’s powerful lyrics sailed through Madison Square Garden, and Tommy delivered a crazy riff that practically knocked him on his ass. They separated, and Tommy knelt at the front of the stage while Angel strutted back and forth across the apron, his rhinestone-encrusted boots announcing each step with a spray of bright lights.
No one filled out a pair of pants like Angel, and tonight’s number looked like they were painted on him with molten lava. It drew your eyes straight to his bulging crotch. He thrusted his hips at the audience in tune to the beat of the music and marched across the stage with his hips leading the way. It made Tommy wonder if Jessi used some kind of industrial thread, because those pants looked as if they were going to rip at the seams at any moment and leave Angel naked from the waist down, not that anyone would mind by the reaction of the audience to his pelvic parade.
There was a pause in the lyrics and Damien screamed into the mic, “CIRCLE PIT, MOTHERFUCKERS! I WANT TO SEE AN OLD SCHOOL PUNK ROCK MOSH PIT! BLOOD AND GUTS!”
Mayhem ensued. Total chaos erupted in the center of the crowd as people slammed their bodies into one another. A guy had his shirt ripped off and thrown toward the stage. Someone else was bleeding from a cut on his cheekbone. Several security guards tried to move into the audience to restore order, but the crowd was packed too tightly, and they couldn’t get through, so they climbed on stage and dove into the audience. Swimming above the crowd, they made their way to the mosh pit and managed to get control and tame the unruly punk rockers, while Damien laughed his ass off and saluted security with twin middle fingers.
Drumsticks suddenly flew past Tommy from the back of the stage, then a T-shirt followed. He turned and found Jimmy, shirtless with his tattooed muscles on display, pounding his drums, broken sticks littering the floor.
As Tommy watched it all, he leaned back and let his long hair blow in the wind machine. Fireworks rained from above like New Year’s Eve while multi-colored lights flashed in a prismatic display over the audience. Everything that happened over the last few months came down to this moment. Pretending he didn’t want this anymore had left Tommy with a hollow ache in his heart. As if he was missing a severed limb. Or lost a piece of his soul. Now that he was on stage, with his Les Paul across his chest, he delivered furious power chords that practically made his fingers bleed.
He once compared the feeling on stage to an addict’s high. Like nothing would ever be as euphoric as this moment. But it was so much more. It was like watching things finally fall into place after everything fell apart. Like being reunited with a long-lost lover. Like the day your first child was born. Like hearing the words “I love you” for the first time from someone you loved your entire life. Like falling asleep in the arms of the person you loved. It was a first kiss. Your wedding day. It was true love. It was home. It was the stage. And there wasstillnothing like it in the world.
Don’t miss the epilogue and Angel’s guest appearance on Chopped!
The Chopped kitchen was twice as big on set as it appeared on the television screen at home. Angel still couldn’t believe he was selected to participate in the celebrity edition of the show, and he stood proudly next to the other participants which included Neil Patrick Harris, Snoop Dogg, and Teresa Guidice of The Real Housewives of New Jersey fame.
“Welcome to the Chopped kitchen,” Ted Allen announced.
The iconic opening line to the show sent a chill of adrenaline through Angel’s core. He had no reason to be nervous. He’d been cooking since he was a child and made gourmet meals all the time, but basket ingredients usually weren’t sophisticated and often included bazaar combinations. He never doubted his ability in the kitchen before, so the butterflies that tickled his belly was a new feeling.
He had no intention of getting sent home, especially on the first round, and not with the spectacular lineup of judges in front of him. In the first seat sat Chef Geoffrey Zakarian. With his silver hair, olive complexion, and impeccable suit, he was impressive in his own right without his culinary credentials. In the center seat sat Iron Chef Alex Guarnaschelli. Known for her tough critiques and sophisticated palate, she was the one to wow in this competition. In the last seat, and at the top of Angel’s list, was the renowned heartthrob Chef Aarón Sánchez. Standing in front of this handsome Latin man sent Angel’s teenage heart aflutter. With his dazzling smile and plentiful tattoos, a poster of Chef Aarón had been pinned to the wall in Angel’s childhood bedroom, right next to The Clash, Social Distortion, and Bad Religion.
“Chefs, are you ready for the appetizer round?” Ted Allen asked.
Angel gripped the handles on the basket and waited.
“Open your baskets.”
The ingredients were a gift. Beef tenderloin, canned potato soup, peas, and cheese puffs. He knew exactly what he was going to make.
“You have 20 minutes. The clock starts now!”
The four participants raced to the pantry like mad and almost collided with one another. Angel grabbed what he needed and returned to his station and worked at a pace that made his heart pound. The 20 minutes flew by, but he managed to transform the basket ingredients into a ground beef taco with potato cheddar sauce and pea puree. His only regret was there wasn’t enough time to make the tortillas himself.
An excited smile spread across his lips when time ran out and his plate looked and smelled amazing. Chef Aarón would be impressed.
“Forgetting an ingredient isn’t an automatic disqualification,” Ted announced, breaking the silence on the set.
Angel quickly looked around to see who forgot an ingredient and saw it was Snoop Dogg. Angel’s heart sank for him, because it was so easy for the clock to get the better of you in the competition, but Snoop didn’t seem too upset and was now happily snacking on the cheese puffs that didn’t make it on the plate.
