“Are you for real?” Elliott throws his hands out to the sides incredulously. “The world’s biggest pop star is sending an invite your way, and you’re bummed about it?”
“Since when have I ever been into these things?”
Griffin shouldn’t have to say more. Elliott said almost these exact words when the team was invited to the holiday party of a reality television personality turned online influencer and Griffin sent his regrets. The same conversation was had when they were invited to a movie premiere. This sort of spotlight—outside of his comfort zone on the field and at the end of the postgame camera lens—isn’t his thing.
“But Aria Wilder is your celebrity crush.” Elliott drops his hands to his sides and narrows his eyes.
“What? How do you know that?” Griffin’s eyes dart around.
“Come on, man. We’ve been buddies for a while now. You’re not a ‘night on the town’ sort of guy, but you came third wheel with me and Cassandra to the concert. You wanted close seats so—and I quote—you could ‘really see the contours of her face.’ I’m not a rocket scientist, but I’m also not a total idiot.”
Griffin sighs. “You got me there.”
“So, what do you have to lose by going tomorrow?”
“Distraction from the season. Being off in the game the next day.”
“Those sound like excuses to me.”
“Mike wants me to do it.” Griffin’s leg bobs up and down nervously. “And I guess it’ll just be a onetime thing. Theconcert itself was incredible, so I’ll get to enjoy that again. Then it’ll be all said and done.”
Griffin gets to his feet, and Elliott slaps him on the back. Both men grab their gym bags and head for the exit.
“You’re right, man. Gotta take the opportunities when they float by. Who knows when you’ll get another special invite from a pop star,” Elliott says.
Likely never if Griffin is taking history into account. This is the first and only time he’s crossed into other spotlights. Other players—especially the ones who have famous girlfriends—flit in and out of other highflier circles. Take Elliott, for example—he routinely attends New York Fashion Week and has made enough contacts that designers dress him for events.
Even the sound of that makes Griffin want to run for the hills, but a night spent watching the world’s most enchanting pop star from the wings, well out of sight?Thathe can manage.
By the next evening, when Griffin gets to the backstage entrance at the venue, he’s glad he accepted Aria’s invite to the concert. He was excited for the first show, but this experience is like a VIP version of the last one. The fan in him is buzzing over the experience, the insights. Backstage he sees all the nuts and bolts of the world-class production that unfurls onstage. He’s observer of the frantic backstage managers barking into their headsets, hair and makeup artists chasing after performers with brushes and sprays. The amount of tech professionals in attendance to make sure the right smokemachine and levitating platform go off at the right time—and don’t maim any performer—seems comparable to the crew assembled for the moon landing. In many ways, the inner workings of this production feel akin to putting a human on another planet.
Eventually Griffin is escorted to a nook in the wings that affords him a decent view—though admittedly lower quality than he had the other night. Not that he would complain after getting the backstage pass. But tonight he won’t be able to see a single contour of Aria’s face.
The music sounds different in the wings too. The speakers are set up for the people out in the audience, but Griffin watches happily, swaying a little, humming along, cautiously enjoying the music, while simultaneously keeping an eye peeled for a camera-toting member of the public ready to film him again and keep this circus going.
Griffin smiles to himself as he hears the opening notes to “Glass Heart.” He’s starting to feel grateful for this silly social media moment. Elliott was right that he might as well enjoy the fun chances that swim by him in life. They’re once in a lifetime.
But just as Griffin is making his peace with his moment in Aria’s orbit, he hears his name in the monologue Aria speaks to the crowd.
“You guys know I invited the famous Griffin Hayes tonight, right? Anyone see that online?”
The crowd goes wild. Griffin’s cheeks turn hot pink.
“He might be a beast on the field, but he’s a softie at heart, right?”
Lots of female cheers bubble up.
“Well, he’s here tonight, and as a thanks, I’d love to invite him onstage! Griffin? Come on out!”
Suddenly, a stage manager, a more junior one who seems less harried, arrives at Griffin’s side and clips a mic to his shirt, then hands him the electronic dock that goes with it. “You can slip that in your pocket then head out. Just a quick wave and hello!”
Griffin does as he’s told, gulps audibly, then steps hesitantly out onto the stage. A telltale heat creeps up his neck, and he prays his blushing is drowned out by the stage lights. Aria skips up to meet him, her golden curls bouncing in the stage lights. The tassels on her cowgirl boots sparkle in the stage lights. Despite the fear welling in Griffin, he can’t miss the fact that she looks sort of angelic.
“Well, if it isn’t Griffin Hayes! Everyone, let’s give him a warm welcome.”
The crowd cheers.
She lingers before him, her lips parting gently into a playful grin that feels as if it’s entirely for him. Griffin’s heart picks up, his gaze glued to her. In the moment before she lifts the mic, she winks and it practically stops his heart.
