“Yeah, well. He says he didn’t…that I just left all my stuff at his apartment, but he won’t bring it here because he’s scared of Tanner, and I don’t have a car to go and get it, so he says he’s gonna take it all to Goodwill.”
Molly has a habit of speaking too fast. I take a minute to dissect what she’s telling me. “Okay. Roll back. Why is your boyfriend scared of Tanner?”
“Because he showed up here drunk a few days ago and called me a white trash ho. Tanner put him on his ass and drove me home. Brent saw him at my place and thinks he came in for a hook-up, so we fought, and here we are. He still thinks I’m a whore, and now I have no underwear, and he’s threatening to burn my grandfather’s Fender.”
I can relate to that more than I want to. “What are you going to do?”
“About my underwear?”
“About all of it. I mean, I can’t help you with the underwear thing, but I just brought my guitar back from the office to my place. I can go and get it for you if you need one for tonight.”
“Can you play it for me?”
“On stage in front of a bar full of people? No fucking chance, even I didn’t have my hands full already.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m a lousy hobby musician and you deserve better.”
Molly sighs. It’s a light sound, but carries the weight of the world. I wish I could help her more than offering her the use of a guitar that barely has strings, but short of stomping on her ex—which I’m not averse to—there isn’t much I can do for her.
She disappears to get ready for her set. Other musicians arrive, and I take my cue to get up and find a spot out of the way while things get going. Someone lowers the lights. I check the brightness of the LED at the back of the stage and switch my static camera on. The first act on the stage is a white bloke with a set of maracas and the worst rendition of ‘One Love’I’ve ever heard, but he looks good enough on screen that I can leave the static to do its work.
I spend the next few hours looping the bar with the gimbal. From time to time, I catch sight of Tanner through the camera lens. He’s not supposed to be working, but it’s a while before I see him find a stool to drop onto. He doesn’t know I’m watching him, and he seems tired. He scrubs a hand down his face before his phone interrupts him.
Whatever he sees on the screen makes him smirk, and I like that. His features get lighter, and his eyes gleam. I forget there’s a bar full of people I’m supposed to be filming, zero in on him, and everything seems so simple. There isn’t a lifetime he won’t talk to me about, and my heart doesn’t jump in fear every time I contemplate how hard I’m falling for him. He’s a just bloke who happens to be hotter than the goddamn sun, and I’m the idiot who can’t stop staring.
I’m so caught up in him I nearly miss Molly taking to the stage. Cursing, I tear the camera away from Tanner and slip through the crowd to get to the front of the stage. Molly is already in position. She’s wearing a hockey jersey as a dress, cowboy boots, and a Stetson. It’s the strangest outfit I’ve ever seen, and Rainn doesn’t seem to like it, if his scowl is anything to go by, but she makes it work.
She starts to sing, unaccompanied by a single thing except the snap of her fingers, andman, she’s good. I sweep around the stage, catching her at every angle, then I crouch low and point the camera up at her face. The shot is on point. She’s got killer cheekbones—only Tanner’s are better.
Stop it.
I pin my mind to one spot, to Molly, and search for the tunnel vision I need out on the trails to focus on bobcats and squirrels when my feet are so cold I’m pretty sure they’re about to drop off. Molly sings more songs, and by the third, I’ve found the zone where my camera is an extension of my arm.
It all comes together. Molly soars through her last song and beams at the audience who are lapping her up. For a girl often so quick to put herself down, it’s fucking magic.
I’m grinning like an idiot as I turn the static cam off and lower the gimbal. Molly grins, and steps out of the spotlight just as a beer bottle soars over my head and crashes into the space she’s left behind.
* * *
The world often moves slowly, and yet at a million miles an hour.
Glass shatters on the stage like daggers of ice. Molly screams. I lunge for her and drag her off-stage, tucking her under my arm to barrel through the panicked crowd. My elbow connects with anyone who gets in my way. I tap the code into the door to get to the stairwell and pull her to safety.
She’s shaking. I fish Tanner’s key from my pocket and press it into one hand, and my precious gimbal into the other. “Go to Tanner’s apartment. Stay there until one of us comes up. Don’t open the door for anyone else.”
Molly nods and dashes upstairs. Her lack of protest leads me to believe she has a fair idea who in the usually chill crowd at V and V would throw bottles at her. Her ex? Someone else? Who-the-fuck knows. And actually, I don’t give a shit, as long as anyone I care about is okay.
I dash back out to the bar. The chaos I left behind has dulled to a hum of anxious activity. The usually low lights are bright and fluorescent. It makes it easy to find Tanner in the midst of it all, furious as he marches through the crowd.
Rainn is sweeping up glass.
Satisfied that Tanner is okay, I help him, and move my static camera to a safer place. “What the fuck just happened?”
Rainn shrugs. “Fuck if I know. Whoever that was is gonna die when Tanner gets a hold of them, though. Did you get Molly out?”
“Yeah. She’s in Tanner’s apartment. I told her to stay there.”
