A single spotlight shines onto the stage. I’m surprised to see that there’s only a microphone and stool on there.Pack Fireshows are usually filled with special effects. The rest of the crowd must feel the same as curious murmurs sweep through the audience.
I watch with bated breath as Jagger heads onto the stage clutching his guitar, a bright light following his every move. His eyes stay fixed on the floor as he gets into position. It’s hard not to drool at the sight of his tattooed chest, only partially covered by his mostly unbuttoned, plain white shirt. As he takes a seat and adjusts his mic, a strand of brown hair falling over his eyes, my eyes home in on his inked hands, covered in various silver rings. As hard as I’ve tried, I can’t forget how good he is with those hands.
I’m mesmerized, forgetting that I’m in a public place, surrounded by my friends. With the spotlight shining on him, he’s my sole focus, the rest of the world fading into nothingness. I drink in every minute motion—how his Adam’s apple bobs after he clears his throat, how his fingers softly caress the strings while tuning them, how he shifts to get comfortable.
He pauses then looks up, saying nothing. His mouth morphs into an unreadable, somber line as the crowd goes wild. He scans the audience, gaze roaming over to the VIP area where I’m standing.
Somewhere nearby, Tae shouts, “You got this, man!”
I swear, the corners of Jagger’s mouth twitch upward.
He taps the microphone twice then leans in, his slight hint of a British accent sounds even more pronounced as he says, “Tonight we’re going to do something a little different.”
The crowd claps and hollers while I remain fixed in place, arms clamped by my sides.
“We’re going to start with one of my brand new originals,” he says. His eyes stray over to me, but I look away. “This is for someone very special in the crowd.”
He begins playing the chords. They are soft, gentle, slowly building, each strum making my heart tremble.
“Del…” Kady says something in my ear, but I tune her out as Jagger starts to sing.
His voice is so raw, dripping with emotion, the gravely yet velvety tones sending goose bumps racing up my arms.
Faye gasps. “I didn’t know he could sing like this.”
Pack Firevocals are usually so modulated by auto-tune that it makes it hard to fully appreciate Jagger’s vocal range.
“Leaving you ruined me, left a part of me behind, and I didn’t know what to do… so my mind got lost in you…”
The chorus hits, his head facing in my direction. His gaze meets mine for the first time, and his voice grows deeper, seized with emotion as he belts out the next lines.
“Forever yours, I’ll be… If you ever take a chance on me. I’ll never let you down. Not again. I don’t deserve you. I never will. But if you ever take a chance on me. Forever yours, I’ll be.”
He’s singing directly to me now, I’m sure of it. His voice reverberates through my limbs. My pulse spikes, and my throat constricts, blood pounding in my ears as Jagger’s powerful voice overwhelms every one of senses.
When his head sways, I gasp in shock as I spot a smiley face stud in his ear. This confirms that this song is for me. Most women would be overjoyed at a rockstar serenading them in front of hundreds of people. However, all it does is douse me in a fresh tidal wave of pain over what could have been. It’s too much. Too intense. I want to believe he means everything he’s singing, but how can I ever trust him again?
“I need to get out of here.” My vision blurs, not paying any attention to where I’m going as I stumble in what I believe is the way toward the exit.
Jagger’s voice wavers, then he abruptly stops playing, an awkward silence descending.
“What’s going on?” people whisper. “What’s happening? Is this part of the show?”
I need to get away! I have to!
Before my friends can follow me, I start to run, weaving through the crowd, almost blinded by tears.
“Delilah!” Tae calls for me, his rich coconut and espresso scent following me. “Wait!”
Suddenly, from behind, the crowd jolts forward, causing me to be jostled and thrown from side to side. I almost stumble but manage to catch myself at the last minute.
“Brad!” My eardrums ring from the hysterical women screaming around me, waving their arms in the air as I look up to see two figures join Jagger on stage. “Drew!”
The energy from his previously quiet acoustic performance completely changes as Jagger’s bandmates stroll out with mics, bringing total alpha-hole vibes.
Jagger doesn’t move, his jaw slack as his bandmates rally around him, hyping up the crowd.
“Are you all ready to liven this show up?” Brad yells.
