“So. Tell me more about your brother,” I ask, leading the way to the door. “What’s the most embarrassing story you’ve got?”
I shoot Christopher a side glance, the corner of my mouth lifting.
“Don’t you dare,” Christopher responds as he follows behind.
The audience is still screaming as I pause to take a sip of water.
“Last night, I performed this next song live for the first time,” I say. I take in the banners in front of me.
Marry Me Alexander.
I want a Stolen Moment With You.
“The crowd was great, but I have a feeling that this song will go down even better tonight.”
The crowd screams even louder as I look across to Block 111. I’m relieved to see Christopher and Kelly seated next to my parents, giggling away. Rita Watson is nowhere to be seen. Rob thankfully located her before the show started and got the venue security to escort her from the premises.
“This isStolen Moments.”
The crowd roars as Andy starts playing the intro. Christopher looks away from my mom and toward me. Our eyes connect as I begin to sing, and it’s as if the other nineteen thousand people have drifted away. I’m performing to an audience of one.
As the chorus kicks in, I pull out my in-ear monitors to hear the audience singing back the words to me. Warmth engulfs me from inside. The track doesn’t even come out for another twenty-six hours, but they already seem to know the words.
I wish I could capture this moment right now. Bottle it up and keep it. Freddy raises an eyebrow when I look across to him.Surely this is a better way to launch the track than as an exclusive first play on a radio show, or a banner on a digital streaming platform.
By the time I’ve worked my way backstage, after taking a quick moment to wipe myself down with a towel in my dressing room, the VIP bar backstage has already filled up. The room is buzzing with energy. Half of the people hold plastic cups with beer and wine in them. Clearly the request to keep backstage completely free from alcohol fell on deaf ears.
Nathan, who I’ve managed to avoid since Monday night, greets me at the door, surrounded by several other label employees. He introduces me to many I already know, and a few I don’t, from Spotify, Apple, and Amazon.
“That new track is ahit!” Nathan says, pulling out his phone.
“Yeah, it’s a great track,” a tanned guy with a Liverpudlian accent says.
“Thanks,” I say as enthusiastically as possible. I try to keep my focus locked on them, knowing that schmoozing is an important part of the gig, but I want to locate Christopher. To find out what he thought. Ask what he and my mom were laughing about.
“Look at the numbers on TikTok.” Nathan waves his phone around at everyone. “There’s already thirty thousand people using the snippet we delivered earlier today.”
They collectively raise their eyebrows, clearly impressed at the statistic.
Nathan has many flaws, but he’s always had the gift of the gab. He could sell sand to an Arab.
The brief reprieve allows me to look around the room, and I notice Christopher and Kelly lingering awkwardly at the bar.
“Would you excuse me? I need to go and sort something out,” I say, placing my hand on Nathan’s back. “Was great to meet you all and thank you so much for coming tonight.” Ishake everyone’s hand before shooting off to the bar. I pat down the Velcro on my stage trousers, which I didn’t get to change out of before coming in here.
“Let’s head to my dressing room,” I say to them both, nodding toward the door.
As we head down the hallway, the ringing in my ears starts to subside. A few of the crew acknowledge me as they move in and out of the various dressing rooms for production and management.
“What did you think?” I ask, turning to them both.
“That wasinsane. I’ve never heard an audience so loud in my life!” Kelly says, her eyes widen as she almost bumps into one of the flight cases.
I want to prolong the conversation, to ask more questions, but all I really care about is what Christopher thought.
“Isthisyour dressing room too?” Christopher says as he notices the sign above the door. It’s the second of two rooms allocated to me backstage. This one is just down the hall from the other one we sat in before the show started.
“No. It’s Brad Pitt’s,” I say, shaking my head as I reach for the handle.
