Page 12 of Declan

One thing I can say is that Issa’s manager, Jessica, has always been an advocate for her. But that doesn’t change the fact that Jessica is also a serious businesswoman who understands celebrities and the power of a good promo spot.

So, I called Jessica to see if she would be willing to put Issa on the spot by having me make a surprise appearance at the show by joining Issa on one of her songs. Of course, it’s not a song that’s actually a duet, but that makes it even more newsreel-worthy. Surprisingly, it didn’t take too much persuading, though Jessica did wish me luck in pulling it off.

I have no doubt whatsoever that I can pull it off perfectly, though, likely not without a few bites and scratches. It just happens that I like bites and scratches, so that’s fine with me.

Issa usually does meet and greets before her show, but I managed to get ours moved to afterward, so I won’t ruin the surprise. Jessica also managed to get the song I chose moved to the end of her show rather than the middle of the first set as usual. I’m relatively certain Issa is going to be pissed at Jessica for helping to arrange all this, but Jessica seems unconcerned.

Having already made arrangements with her band, I go backstage just in time to borrow a guitar and get myself mic’d up. Her band was a bit confused when I first asked them to make some changes to the song, but once they realized I was going to go out there and play, they were more than happy to accommodate.

They’ve just begun the intro to the song when I get connected to the main sound system, and I throw a riff just to get her attention. Sure enough, she whirls around and looks back at her band questioningly, and they all grin at her, excited for what’s about to happen.

I grin as well, knowing she’s going to be fucking pissed, and it’s going to be glorious.

She shakes her head and turns back to her mic, opening her mouth to begin the song when I throw another riff out there, cutting her off. She whips around again, holding her hands up and mouthing, “What are you doing?”

They keep grinning at her, and she gives them an exasperated look, then shakes her head again and turns back to the mic, laughing. “Seems we’re having some technical difficulties tonight. Maybe my band will get it together soon, and we can give the song a go.”

The crowd roars; every person in the crowd is so excited to be here that they don’t give a shit about a technical difficulty. This makes what I’m about to do even more glorious because they’re going to eat it up and there’s nothing Issa can do about it.

This time, when she opens her mouth to begin the song, her drummer does exactly what I told him, counting off and throwing her pop classic into rock ’n’ roll overdrive.

This time, when she whirls around, she looks flabbergasted, annoyed… and suspicious.

She looks around the stage, then she sees me, and her eyes narrow, and I’m certain I see steam coming out of her ears. She’s most definitely wishing death upon me, but I walk toward her and step out onto the stage without one glimmer of hesitation.

It only takes a few seconds for people to spot me. The crowd titters for a few seconds and then slowly starts to roar even louder. I stop playing and wave, and they all lose their fucking minds. Issa is frozen to the spot, likely so pissed off she can’t even speak.

Carolina and Antoinette are standing at the very front, screaming their heads off, likely surprised because I didn’t divulge my plan to them.

The crowd dies down a bit, and I take the opportunity to shout, “Good evening, Los Angeles!”

They immediately lose their minds again, the roar of the crowd echoing upon the echoes. I’m not sure if I should be surprised to find Issa’s fanbase so excited to see me, given the fact we’re in completely different wheelhouses musically.

But then I remember the clamor over us singing the Stevie Nicks song and how many bleeding-heart romantics there are in the world, and it makes sense to me. They’re hoping this is an overture, some kind of declaration or confirmation of my affection for her, and I am happy to oblige.

Luckily, I thought ahead to have my mic magically malfunction, so I have to share hers, and I have this in mind as I head in her direction, her eyes shooting daggers at me.

“How’s everybody—“ I begin, and then, just like clockwork, my mic goes out, and I laugh as I say, “Seems my mic isn’t working, and I’m gonna have to share yours. May I?”

Of course, I speak just close enough to her mic so the crowd can hear me, their shouts and screams insisting that she allow me to join her.

She doesn’t say anything. She gives me a curt nod and steps to the side, and I move in front of her mic and look out at the crowd, smiling. “How’s everybody doing tonight?”

I give them a few moments to scream it out, then, when they start to die down, I continue, “I had to escort my sister-in-law here and figured I’d give a little surprise set for everyone. Assuming Issa doesn’t mind, of course.”

It’s more of a statement than a question, but I let it linger in the air as I turn my gaze on her, and I can tell she’d sooner knock me off the stage to get trampled by the crowd than sing a song with me. But I also know she’s stuck and completely screwed, having no choice but to go along with it. She moves in close to me and whispers into my ear, “What the fuck are you doing, Declan? I’m going to kill you.”

I laugh, leaning down to whisper back, “You can kill me after the show, doll face.”

“Don’t fucking call me that,” she hisses.

“You better put a smile on your face, or else you’ll start some more rumors.”

Without missing a beat, she turns her blinding smile toward the crowd and shouts, “Isn’t this a pleasant surprise, Los Angeles? The one and only Declan Hughes honoring this fine stage with his presence. And he’s already got his tune picked out. What do y’all think about that?”

The crowd goes wild, screaming, cheering, and stomping their feet. This crowd loves Issa, and there’s no doubt in my mind that they now love Declan and Issa. The smile I beam out at them is genuine, as I say, “Thanks for having me, doll face. This is going to be one for the ages, for sure.”

Her eyes narrow at the obvious implication that she may have secretly invited me to her stage, and I know, being the professional she is, she won’t say anything to contradict me. She wouldn’t want to have a scene or any kind of possible bad press that would only draw more attention to the both of us for months.

---