DARLA
This wasthe part that had the potential to suck the most. But Darla resolved to make it fun. They weren’t done yet, so she lifted her gaze to where Mach brooded on his side of the bench seat in the back of the stretch limo, taking them to the Burbank studio forLately, Later. Mach of a few days ago would’ve had her on her knees by now. Probably with her top off.
Mach of today was distracted. He stared at his knees, eyebrows furrowed. He’d been that way all day.
There were often patients who came into the emergency department in a place inside their head like this. Often, it was because of some visible medical emergency. But sometimes the culprit wasn’t so clear.
She understood where he was coming from—this marked the beginning of the end. But as with everything so far, they had a choice to embrace it while it lasted or… not. In either case, it’d help if he opened up to her so they could figure things out. And it was the only reason her tongue itched to poke and prod so she could get to the meat of Mach’s issue. Then they could address it appropriately, and he’d feel better.
As they pulled up to the studio, her nerves tried to kick into gear. She refused to give them any attention, but they were persistent little suckers. The building was tall and imposing. Her breath caught in her throat with the sense of the finality of tonight. The buzz of excitement in the air was infectious, though, and she wanted to be part of that.
"Do you want a mint?" she asked, rummaging through her purse. "I should have one, but I can’t find them."
Not that the viewers at home could smell her minty fresh breath, but it was another mini confidence boost to get her through this night.
Courtney had provided a few options for wardrobe, and Darla went with simple. Just a pair of jeans with a purple flowy blouse and stilettos, because Courtney said everyone in Hollywood wore stilettos. She totally nixed Darla’s black flats from Target.
Mach placed his hand on her wrist and she breathed a sigh of relief with his touch. Something had switched inside him, and he seemed more like himself.
"You’re going to do great," he assured. "I’ll be there. I’ll make sure."
What happened next was a blur of busy hands directing her where to go. They followed a long hallway lined with framed posters of past show guests until finally arriving at their dressing room. Voices were in her ear, telling her what to do. Makeup brushes on her face, making her look the part.
She’d rather run a trauma bay in the emergency room. It held the same frantic energy, but she understood what was happening there and her role in it a whole lot better.
That was not the case here. This was a tidal wave of activity, and she was body-surfing through it.
Mach got called away since Dimefront would be performing before he went on with her. Courtney stopped by to ensure Darla was good. But this was Courtney’s show to run, so she couldn’t stay long after Darla assured her she was fine.
And then she was at the set. Darla waited to the side in the shadows until it was her turn. There were studio lights shining on the set and huge cameras on wheels moved all along in the front of the audience. The high ceiling stretched into an abyss above them. Two bulky cameramen stood at the ready in front of several bright lights, while a couple of sound technicians were busy running cables across the room from various pieces of equipment to massive speakers in each corner. A group of producers huddled around a computer monitor discussing something quietly amongst themselves before eventually turning their attention to the stage. And then, they were live.
The teleprompters weren’t for her, but boy, wouldn’t that have been nice? Unfortunately, they were for Jimmy Jones, the comedian and host of the show. He did his monologue and, yeah, it was funny. Then the Dimefront guys played when they came back from the commercial.
This was a new song. The song Mach had sung to her the night before in bed. She hadn’t entirely been paying attention to the words at that point but now that she got a front row seat to their set, the lyrics settled in. They were beautiful words about life and getting it right… everything she needed to hear.
God, this felt like a goodbye song. She’d look forward to hearing it in shopping malls and on social media reels later this year when they officially released it. But right now, it felt like it was just for her. That’s the only reason she started to hyperventilate a little.
"Breathe," Courtney said beside her. When had she shown up? Jimmy did a bit with Bax about Dimefront, their next album, and plans for an upcoming tour. And then it was almost her turn. Her palms got sweaty, and the room started to spin a tiny bit.
Then they introduced Mach and… she had her cue.
The cheers and claps echoed through the sound stage as she walked across in front of the Dimefront crew, waving tentatively at the audience.
"The nurse who turned down the rock star," Jimmy said. "Darla Davis, everybody."
Darla had once delivered a baby in the emergency room parking lot, and everyone did great. During those moments everything seemed to be happening at once, but somehow Darla managed to keep her cool and focus on what she needed to do. If she could do that and not run away, she could definitely do this. In her moment of vulnerability, she summoned the strength from within and willed herself to finish what she’d started.
Every step felt like a test of courage as she strode across the stage, climbed up the stairs, and didn’t even stumble a little.
Thank God, she made it to the interview chair between Mach and Jimmy without falling on her face.
"Just a matter of weeks and everything’s changed, hasn’t it?" Jimmy asked, shaking her hand and leaning in for a hug.
Oh, okay then, he was a hugger, she hadn’t realized that. Also, hoo boy, he wore way too much cologne. A whole cloud of it wafted around them all.
Don’t sneeze. Don’t sneeze.
Mach’s hand was at her back, his warm presence a reminder that she wasn’t doing this alone. He was here with her, and he was used to this.
