Who would’ve thought?
“No complaining about the oxygen saturation until you’re breathing for two,” Courtney said, shifting in the metal folding chair while she picked at her oatmeal for dinner because it was the only thing that sounded good. She’d planted her ass in one chair and her feet on another—elevating her ankles so maybe the swelling would reduce.
Along with low oxygen levels came swollen ankles.
“Do you mind if I… uh…” Irina tilted her head toward where she apparently saw Oprah.
“Go do your thing.” Courtney grinned, even as she gave up on the oatmeal and set it aside.
As the pregnancy progressed, she’d found fewer and fewer foods appealing, which made no sense because she should eat for two, not pick at oatmeal for two. Even carrots had lost a lot of their appeal, and yesterday’s breakfast burrito was a total bust—not only because of the Em thing. Even bland salsa couldn’t make it palatable for her.
The last stroke of a guitar from the opening band ricocheted through the park, probably sucking up even more of the scarce oxygen. But it was worth it because the opening act—Badger Dream—was fantastic.
Well on their way to giving Dimefront a run for their money.
Not tonight, but someday.
Tonight, Dimefront was ready for the stage, and it didn’t matter that the air was so thin, because it still sparked electric. A palpable sizzle. No actual way to describe it except that it was as though Mother Earth had blissed out at the idea of a rock concert and created the perfect atmosphere for music.
Courtney loved this feeling.
Not the nothing-tastes-good problem or the no-oxygen situation, but the collective energy of the fans, the contentment of the completion of a tour, paired with the enjoyment of the last concert before they headed back to the studio.
Work done, she could relax and enjoy the music. Atmosphere. The way everything had come together. The role she’d played in that.
Linx entered the stage first. Mach and Tanner with him. Then Knox. Finally, Bax—wearing a T-Rex head.
While he’d done it for her, he embraced it for the fans. They ate it up.
Touring agreed with him. He crashed hard, sure, but rose ready to get to it the next day. The tour lifestyle agreed with him.
This career was perfect for him.
The guys played the first bars of their most popular song ever, their first hit to go platinum, Bax ditched the dinosaur head, and the crowd went more than a little nuts.
She could be content. The outside world was the outside world. Right here, witnessing Bax take the stage, was enough. Maybe even falling for him a bit more every time they were in the same space.
Wow, things have changed.
Harley kicked Courtney in the kidney to punctuate that point. Even that internal discomfort couldn’t ruin the vibe of good music. An outdoor venue, her best friend probably meeting Oprah, and… Bax.
“I wrote a little fucking something!” Bax shouted into the microphone. “Something new. Think you’ll dig it.”
The crowd went bananas. Being the first crowd to witness a new Dimefront song was an extra kind of special, but—
“What’s he talking about?” Courtney sat up, kicking her feet down from the chair where she’d had them elevated.
Because she would’ve appreciated a little time to prepare the social media team for the influx that was about to converge.
“Prepare to lose your fucking minds.” Bax tilted his chin up at Linx, and he played a new song Courtney’d never heard.
Lots of drums and bass. Sad but pissed.
The fans screamed.
Cameras flashed.
Bax bathed in the spotlight.
