“Button.” I feel a hand on the small of my back and Aaron’s lips against my ear. I don’t bother turning around. “You look obscene.”
He’s not wrong. Tonight, we’re doing a circus theme and Felix went for a lion-tamer vibe with his tailcoat and his whip—while Cammie went full-blown clown, wig and all. Our new bassist—Andrea—came as a cute little circus mouse. She’s pretty tall. Really, she’s as tall as me, with long blonde hair and big green eyes.
I chose a fortune teller. I have on baggy, purple cotton low-waist pants with a set of gold belly chains that glitter with little diamonds and hang down the side of my right leg. The top I’m wearing isn’t really a top. It covers my shoulders and collarbones in purple lace—connecting a piece of loose lace that hangs off and reconnects at my wrists and wraps them.
When I move my arms, I can feel the purple fabric catch the wind, which is really satisfying. And lastly, just to make sure it’s all brought together I have a cute little purple headband with a gem in the middle that circles around my head and sits at the top of my forehead. Sexy fortune teller.
“I can read your palms if you’d like—you just have to put them on me.” I respond to Aaron, hearing him chuckle in my ear, a hand slidingover my stomach.
“Count me in. I’ll book you for after this show. No refunds.” I tilt my head up and look at him standing behind me. He’s grinning and so beautiful. His messy black curls and bright green eyes. His stupid wardrobe of 99% black shirts and jeans. Which is exactly what he’s wearing now. God—I love him.
“It’s time! Hi, Bub!” Felix calls—running past us, pulling his hair into a bun.
“I think he’s spending too much time with Josh.” Aaron jokes. Then he uses the hand on my stomach to pull me back against him and he kisses me—slow and deep. “Have fun. I’ll try not to kill anyone in the crowd as they talk about wanting to fuck you.” This makes me laugh. We have this conversation every show—and after every show Aaron’s moody and wants to take me home and pound into me until I can’t come anymore. It’s fucking awesome.
“I believe in you.” I say, smiling up at him.
“I love you, Button.” He tells me, and I believe him.
“I love you too, Little Blue Bird.”
He disappears to go to the front and watch the show, and I meet up with the others. We wait by the entrance until we’re called.
“Now—what you’re all here for—welcome Phoebe!” Oh, fuck. Okay. We got this.
I come on last—I don’t remember why it started but it’s always been that way. When I get to the mic everyone is screaming. I fix the height of the stand that the last band has adjusted. I can smell the liquor—the sweat. It’s all coming back to me. Familiar. The lights are so warm.
“Hi there, Cavetown.” I speak.
“Benny!” A group of girls are yelling.
“That’s new.” I mutter, and that earns a lot of laughs.
“Anyway—we’re a cover band called Phoebe. Glad you came to our circus night. First up— ‘Lay All Your Love On Me’ by ABBA.”
I take a step back and swallow, staring at the lights ahead of me. The music starts. I grab the mic stand—bring the mic to mymouth. The duet has been adjusted to all play in the same key—no longer a two-person endeavor.
"Lay All Your Love On Me” is flirty and sweet, definitely a crowd pleaser. I take in as much of the club as I can, relish in the atmosphere of being here on stage. Of being a star. Dancing around, I end up throwing off my cute little headband before the song is over. These stage lights are killer.
I’m humming little intervals into the mic to finish up. The crowd erupts in cheers and screams. I’m sweating more than normal—most of the songs we cover don’t have this much stage work to them. But it’s so fun. I’m glistening under the lights as I drink my water—glancing at Andrea to make sure she’s doing okay. She’s fucking killing it.
We sing a handful of songs that vary in genre and by the end of it I’m fucking dying. Maybe I should hit the gym with all this new choreography I’m adding.
“I hope you liked our show, Cavetown.” I smile.
“Marry me!” Someone in the crowd yells and I consider for a moment—then decide fuck it I’m not a real celebrity anyway—who cares what I say onstage?
“Babe—my boyfriend would kill us both. Better luck next time.” And I wink. The crowd erupts again and we go to the back of the club.
“Dude! That was hilarious.” Felix is laughing his ass off. “Because it’s true. He’s always so pissed off.”
“You’re so getting laid.” Cammie says, flicking a drumstick in the air.
“I’m not sure it was ever a question.” I joke back and she laughs. Andrea is watching us—smiling and learning our dynamic. Felix turns to her.
“Bear is dating my older brother. We all grew up together.”
“Oh wow—” she says, looking between the two of us. “That’s a pretty cute way to fall in love, actually.” Felix laughs.
