We’re in New Jersey, and the guys are finishing up their set. The venues have gotten bigger, and I like watching from offstage, where I can see the show, but not the crowds. Even though I’m not the one up there playing, seeing the mass of fans gives me the chills. Thanks to multiple rehearsals, each live performance is timed to a tee. So when Logan walks offstage and pulls a stool up to the microphone, I know something is off. Cam, who usually plays lead on the band’s few acoustic songs, is already perched on an identical wooden stool at center stage.They’re playing a new song? One they haven’t rehearsed?I’ve skipped out on some practices to respond to the constant online comments and backlash from the recent video drama, but how could they have learned an entirely new song?And they didn’t even mention it?When they learned “Purple Shirt,” it was all they could talk about.
Logan pulls the stool next to Cam’s, positions the second mic in front of it, and then walks to the back of the stage next to Reese, who also seems to be sitting this song out.What the hell are they doing?I wave my hands frantically at Logan. He winksat me, with a giant, goofy grin that does absolutely nothing to ease my nerves.
“We’re going to try something a little different tonight,” Cam says, in his sultry, raspy stage voice, running a hand through his hair. “If you don’t mind.” He looks out into the crowd of squealing and cheering fans, a sea of purple Future X shirts filling much of the auditorium. “This song is sort of special, so I hope you like it.” He strums a few notes and my heart sinks. No, it deep sea dives.
Oh, God, no.
“It’s a love song.” A few more notes. “The first love song I ever wrote, actually.” The crowd is going crazy, and he’s glancing toward me, without actually looking at me. “For the first girl I ever loved.”
No, no, no.
He gives the crowd his sexy half smile and again squeals and cheers erupt as someone in the back shouts out, “Loveme,Cam!” during a moment of silence. “The thing is, I can’t play this one on my own.” His voice is sad and melodramatic and I think about choking him. “It’s actually a duet.” He strums a few more notes. “Does anyone want to join me onstage?” The crowd is erupting with volunteers.
Hell, no.
“What’s happening?” Pax is standing next to me, swaying a little on his feet. “Does he need someone? Should I go out there?” He’s about two seconds away from rushing out to join Cam onstage.
“Something like that.” I put my hand across his chest to stop him from lunging onto the stage, though part of me thinks I should let him. Lethimbe the one to suffer this humiliation. He’snot the most hated person on the tour—they won’t eathimalive out there.
I feel like time is standing still as Cam continues to pluckout the intro to the song, looking from the audience to where I’m standing offstage, in a repetitive loop. The time for their last song is ticking away. What is wrong with all of them? Cam is seriously going to do this to me?
Logan walks over, leaving the stage with his acoustic unstrapped in his hands. “Vee, come on.”
I turn away from him, looking backstage. “I don’t owe him anything.”
“No one said you did. Do this for you. Show yourself you can do it. Cam’s not going to let you fall out there.” He holds the guitar out to me. “You want this. You’ve always wanted this.”
I can feel the tears welling up in my eyes, and I let the adrenaline push them back. The only thing worse than going out on that stage is letting Cam think I’m weak. I grab the guitar roughly from Logan’s hands, slinging it over my neck as I make my way onto the stage. I’d like to think I’m walking with a sort of confidence I’ve never had before—strutting—but I’m just glad I’ve made it to center stage without tripping or passing out. And no one has hit me with anything.They just don’t recognize you yet,a mean little voice in my head whispers. On the opposite side of the stage, Tad gives me a thumbs-up from behind his camera.
Cam is still talking to the crowd as I take my seat on the stool next to him. “Give it up for Virginia Miller,” he says.
The loud crowd has fallen silent, but there’s still a handful of people letting out small cheers.Maybe they don’tallhate me.
“Hey, now,” Cam scolds them, “Vee’s our best friend and part of the Future X family. So if you love us, you gotta love her, too.”
Logan picks up his own mic, shouting, “Let’s hear it, people!” The crowd lets out a hesitant cheer—more like a five-thousand-person golf clap—but I’m thankful no one has pelted me with anything… yet. My hands are shaking as I adjust the mic in front of me.
Cam leans into the mic and the crowd goes quiet again. “Wewrote this song a few years ago, back when we were young and stupid,” he says, smiling at me, and my racing heart slows just a bit. “I was stupid, at least. Vee was always perfect.” And then he begins the song again, strumming each note of the intro, until his deep, perfect voice joins along:
There’s this girl, yeah this girl,
who makes the world seem
brighter than it’s ever been.
There’s her smile and her eyes,
and I just wanna make her mine.
I hear her laugh and I smile
’cause I know she’s laughin’ at me.
There’s this girl, yeah this girl—
I think she’s the girl for me.
He’s still playing, repeating the last line again, as I join in on the melody, my fingers plucking the strings easily as I finally focus on Cam, and everything around me melts away. It’s just me and him, on his bed, under the stars, in our own space.
