I walk as close to the edge of the stage as I can, and he finally looks over. Our eyes meet and his body relaxes on an exhale just as the lights cut out. The spotlight shines on thecenter of the stage and Josh is launched into the air one final time. Before he even hits the ground, the crowd is the loudest I’ve heard on this tour. The energy iselectric.
When the lights come back up, Eric is himself again—laser focused, and smiling so wide his dimples are on full display. I back away to stand next to Dani and Kate, where we stay for first three songs before making our way back to the sound board at the back of the floor section.
Tonight, much like the first time I saw them, I can’t take my eyes off Eric. He’s as focused as I’ve ever seen, adding little flourishes that most people won’t notice, but I now pride myself on picking up on. Every twirl of the sticks in his talented fingers. Every stick flip. The way he’s catching every pop.
He’s breathtaking.
We’re all having such a good time behind the scenes, singing at the top of our lungs and jumping around like fools, that I don’t realize they’ve already made it to the next to last song until Kate elbows me and nods to the stage so we can get back before the encore.
We make it back to our spots at the side of the stage as the lights go brighter and Josh starts speaking to the crowd. We turn our packs on and don our headphones as we listen to Josh’s words.
“Tonight is the last night on this tour,” he begins, stretching his arms wide and turning to Kevin, Eric, and Max. “And from the bottom of all of our hearts, we want to thank all you crazy motherfuckers for supporting us and being the absolute best fans in the world.” The crowd roars to life, cheering louder than they have since the first notes were played and Josh landed on stage in that graceful, predatory way he does.
“We truly appreciate every single one of you,” he continues. “And to that end we want to bless you, Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, by playing a brand-new song for you. Something we haven’t even recorded yet or played live, because it’s something we’ve been working on for the last few weeks.”
“Did you know they were doing a new song tonight?” I ask Dani. She shakes her head, looking as confused as I feel.
“This song was written by that beautiful motherfucker back there on drums. My brother, Mr. Eric Ambrose. The fuckingKing!” The crowd cheers again as Josh points to Eric, who stands and waves to the crowd from behind his kit before sitting back down. “This song is called ‘Without You,’ and we hope you like it.”
Max begins the song with a distorted riff before Eric and Kevin come in a few measures later.
Josh has turned from the crowd and is walking toward our side of the stage. His eyes meet mine, and he presses a finger to his ear, tapping his in-ears twice and nodding at me before facing the crowd again.
“Is he having monitor issues?” I ask.
“I don’t think that’s what that was…” Dani says.
Eric, Max, and Kevin drop out and Josh sings the first two lines acapella, a subtle voice effect on his mic, and goosebumps cover my skin when Eric comes back in first, Max and Kevin following a beat later. The arrangement is so striking and complex that I’m once again amazed that there are only four of them out there on that stage.
As I listen to the lyrics, my heart creeps into my throat. Had Josh been telling me to listen? I close my eyes, forcing myself to focus on his voice through my body pack, and as I do, I can’t stop the tears that fall from my eyes.
Behind Josh’s voice, I hear a steady, familiar beat backing the track—the one Eric wrote on the bus months ago. The one he’d played for me that reminded me of a heartbeat.
Something steady, something that drives you without you even realizing it.
For the first time since Eric and I met, I know I’m not imagining this. If Josh made a point to tell the entire crowd that Eric wrote these lyrics, and then subtly told me to listen, Eric’s intentions are perfectly clear. This thing between us isn’t a one-night stand or a passing joke or an alcohol-fueled night of passion.
Despite the up-tempo beat, this is a love song.
And it’s forme.
Look at me, I will him.Please.
But he doesn’t. He keeps his focus glued to his kit, laying down the most beautiful foundation I have ever heard. Pouring his heart and soul into every hit.
It’s the end of the show, so I can’t tell if what’s running down his face is sweat, or tears, or both, but my heart is hammering in my chest as I watch him.
Look at me.God damn it,lookat me.
If he does finally look as he plays the final note, I don’t see it.
I’m already gone.
FORTY-NINE
Eric
?You Are The Reason - Callum Scott?
