Page 16 of The Wiener Across the Way

After we did the new songs, I took a minute to introduce my people, because they all deserved accolades too. They worked just as hard as I did.

The show was going well, all according to plan, and the crowd’s energy fueled me, pushing back the fatigue that shadowed me at the beginning of the night. Riding this wave of confidence, I decided it was the perfect moment for something new. My people knew to expect these kinds of moments and were ready when I paused before our next scheduled song and stepped up to the mic. I gave one little strum of my guitar and shot the crowd a smile, waiting for the cheers to calm down.

“Okay, Besties,” I said into the microphone, my voice steady and bright. “I’ve been working on something fresh, and I’d love to share it with you. Bear with me, it’s still a work in progress.”

The audience cheered. This was often the part of the show that fans got excited about because I tried to make each night special for them with something different. I strummed the first chords of the new song, the lyrics bubbling from me like the head of a gentle stream.

“Under the spotlight, where shadows fall, echoes of a warrior, standing tall. In your eyes, a silent call, a dance of strength, that captivates us all.”

I gave a couple more strums of the chords that resonated, but the words I’d thought I could continue blurred, and the melody slipped through my fingers like water.

I reached for the lines, but they floated just out of reach. The music faltered, and I let out a light, self-deprecating laugh. “Well, it seems the rest of that song is still a bit of a mystery, even to me.”

I joked and the audience’s laughter joined mine. The crowd responded with a warm, forgiving cheer, but I should have kept that song under wraps a bit longer. My mistake.

“I guess it’s back to the drawing board for that one,” I gave one last chord, still thinking the song was there for me to reach out and grab. But it stayed hidden in the night around us. “That’s the beauty of live music, right?”

I moved on to the next song, the hiccup in the performance already fading into the background. It was moments like these, raw and real, that made me love performing, even when the tank was running on empty.

After the set, I had a short break for a costume change, and I retreated backstage for a quick drink of water and into the tiny dressing area. The adrenaline rush from the performance was wearing off, leaving me more aware of each step.

In the privacy of the little dressing room tent thing, I leaned against the stand that had a snack and more water, allowing myself a moment of rest away from prying eyes. The last thing I needed was the press to catch any picture of me looking tired and blame my size. Been there, done that, got the 2xl t-shirt.

I slipped out of my stage outfit, the sequins and lights replaced by something more comfortable, yet still dazzling, for the second half of the show. The cool fabric against my skin wasa small relief, but it did little to give me the boost of energy I needed.

Maybe I needed to increase my cardio workout. I put that on my mental checklist to have Penelope arrange for me for the rest of the tour. If I pushed through, everything would be fine.

Pen peeked in, her eyes scanning the countdown timer on her tablet. I was pushing the edges of the dance performance my people were doing that gave me the short moments I needed to swap costumes and refuel. I did not like the look she was giving me. “You’re doing great out there, Kels. But you sure you don’t want to take a quick break? Maybe skip the next song for some water and a breather?”

I waved her off with a tired smile. “I’m fine, Pen. The crowd’s amazing tonight. I can’t let them down.”

She hesitated, clearly not convinced, but nodded. “Okay, but I’m gonna get you some caffeine for your next change over.”

Uh-oh. I wasn’t a big caffeine person in the first place. Made me feel too jittery and not actually energized, but I’d drink it in a pinch. Like when I had back-to-back shows. If Pen was suggesting it, I must not be acting up to par.

I’d never admit to needing a break. That felt like conceding to a weakness I couldn’t afford. The show must go on, and so must I.

“Let’s do this.” I said the words more as a pep talk for myself.

Stepping back onto the stage, the roar of the crowd washed over me, a temporary balm to my fraying edges. I launched into my next song, the first hit and crowd favorite “Book Boyfriend”.It always got the crowd going again after the break, and the lyrics flowed automatically.

I barely even had to sing, because the fans singing the whole thing right back at me was almost as loud as the sound system. Their presence, their voices that were always so strong andsteady, was a reminder of why I was doing all this. For the fans, for the music, for moments like these.

At the bridge, I gave a signal to the band to go quiet, and I held the microphone out and let the crowd take over.

The melody swirled into the mountain air, and the words flowed around us all, telling the story of the nerdy girl who wishes the heroes in her books would come to life because they would be better to her than the dumb boys in real life. I stood there on the stage, swaying to the beat, and letting the fans completely take over.

They knew every word, every note, and the song pushed against my skin, into my heart, making it pound in my chest so hard I was sure the whole world could see it. The music seeped into me and I blinked, my eyelashes fluttering a million and two times in the course of the minute the audience carried the tune. Tears pricked at the edges of my eyes, and I sucked in a shuddering, deep breath as the final note hung in the night air.

It was magic.

For a tenth of a second, there was silence. I smiled, brought the microphone back to my mouth, and gave a long, happy, “Whoo hoo. You are absolutely the best fans a girl could have. I think you all had better come up here on stage and let me sit in the audience. That was fantastic.”

I pushed through, song after song, the applause a distant echo in my ears. I was Kelsey Best, America’s pop sweetheart, and I wouldn’t let them see anything less than perfection.

The applause was still ringing in my ears as I moved into the next part of my set. Each song was a step closer to the end of the night, a step closer to rest. I glanced out at the audience, my gaze moving to where I knew Declan and his sister were in the VIP section. It was hard to see the actual faces with the glare of the lights on me, but I still sensed him over there watching me.

I hope he liked what he was seeing.

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