Behind the Mask: A Rockstar Romance(10)

Tegan enjoys putting people in their places. Fame has gotten to her head and it has turned her into a monster. I remembered after their first album went platinum and they did their first concert on tour, she made a member of the staff cry. I watched the girl run off, apologizing. The candles in Tegan’s room weren’t vanilla scented and Tegan wanted vanilla scented.

I chased after the girl, reassuring her my sister is a bitch and not to let it upset her. I spoke to the girl’s manager, explaining what happened as the girl was afraid she was going to get fired and she had a three-month-old baby to support.

Since then I double-check everything. In that case, the only one who will get yelled at is me. Tegan doesn’t make me cry. Yeah, words hurt like a bitch, but I rather take it than an innocent person who doesn’t meet Tegan’s stupid demands.

Stepping onto the stage, I see Naomi helping set up the drums. I walk over to Travis, who is talking to someone through a walkie-talkie. When he sees me he finishes up what he’s saying and gives me a hug.

“Hey, my little star, everything sorted in the back?” Little star is his nickname for me as he thinks I’m going to be the next Madonna.

“Yes, perfect, just missing the tequila bottles.”

Travis asks through the talkie. “They are on their way. Will let you know once they arrive.”

I ruffle up his hair. “You are the best.”

“I keep telling people this.” He pats down his hair. The radio is on quietly that I make out Christina Aguilera’s song “Fighter” is being played. I start humming to the song as I check the guitar and that the strings are in tune.

I start playing along to the song, singing along to the words, and I jump when I hear my voice echo around the room. I turn to Naomi and see she plugged in the microphone. She grabs another microphone and sings as backup to the song.

I strum along the guitar, us both singing, and soon a few of the roadies start singing along, dancing to the rocked-up version of “Fighter.” It’s amazing as most of the roadies grew up singing, playing some sort of instrument or dancing. I watch as a few breakdance in the middle of the stage.

I sing out louder, playing harder. Hearing myself surround the room is such a rush. I have never played in such a huge space as this. I finish off the song and the roadies applaud, teasing me by shouting out encore.

Placing the guitar down, I hear a few boos, but they start to get back to work.

“That was so cool. Felt like I was on Fame or something. You are really good. I think you play better than your sister,” Naomi says.

“If she heard you say that, she would kill you.” I walk over to the bass guitar and I strum through the strings. I’m not that good on base. I know the guys will adjust all this when they arrive soon, but I like to add the little touches.

I walk over to the lead microphone. I hold it with both hands. Soon Nate will be holding this. Breathing into it, singing, ruining me with his voice.

God, I need help.

I do the test check, hearing my voice echo around.

“Sing something,” Naomi shouts out, smiling at me. “You know you want to.”

I bite my lip before temptation pushes me over the edge.

I decide to sing Pink’s “Try.” I find that song is so moving. I have learned the guitar version, I know the words by heart, and I also know the dance moves from the music video. In college I did dance. I wanted my soul, life, and body to be about music. Mom and Dad always said I was born to shine, that music is in my heart.

Singing along to the words, images of my parents enter my head. Seeing them smile at me, cheering me on. Tell me they will always be my number one cheerleaders. A few tears fall down my cheek.

I miss them so much.

The song comes to an end and I keep hold of the microphone, not wanting to let go. I take a few deep breaths and when I turn the whole crew is standing there watching me, their eyes never leaving me. Soon they scream out in cheer, them all running to me, telling me how good it was.

“Yes, she was amazing, let the girl breathe.” Naomi pretends to sweep the people away.

“Little star, when’re you going to get famous and hire me?” Travis winks at me before getting back to work.

“Girl, God, you get better—”

Naomi gets interrupted. “What’s going on?” I hear Tegan yelling as she walks down the isle, heading to the stage, with the rest of the guys behind her. They normally walk through the back. Why are they entering from the front?

“Nothing,” Naomi answers her. “Testing the instruments are working okay.” She shrugs. Tegan looks at her, but Naomi gives nothing away.

“Blair,” Travis shouts. He would never say my nickname in front of Tegan. I walk over to him and he is holding a brown bag. “The tequila,” he whispers.

“Thank you,” I whisper back and without saying another word I leave Naomi and Tegan to it.

Heading to the changing room, I put the tequila on the dressing table with a few shot glasses by it. I check the salt to make sure it comes out okay. Cutting the slices of lime, I smile when I see it all set out.

I take a step back, admiring my handiwork when I bang into someone. I turn my head to see Nate, his front pressed against my back, his hands on my waist. My heartbeat has picked up. I can’t tell if I’m breathing faster, or if I’m hardly breathing at all.

I look in the mirror and his eyes are watching me through the reflection. His hands don’t leave me. His eyes intensely on mine, like he is trying to figure me out. His fingers dig in a little and a gasp escapes me.