Page 21 of Love at First Ink

Backstage was a whirlwind of activity. Crew members bustled about, carrying instruments, breaking down equipment, and exchanging quick words as they passed. Two doors at the far end of the space stood propped open, leading outside, likely to where the van was parked.

Cisco didn’t stop there. He continued deeper into the backstage area, bringing her into a room filled with scattered folding chairs and a long table stocked with bottled water, energy drinks, and an assortment of snacks. But it wasn’t the setup that made Marisol’s breath hitch—it was the people lounging around the room. Not just any people.

The Sinner’s Web.

Never in her life had she been starstruck. Marisol had encountered many high-profile people and minor celebrities who ran in the same or similar circles her parents did. But she had never met anyone she admired or connected with their art like this before. It gave her pause because, what did she do? What did she say? She didn’t want to say something that would keep her up in the middle of the night, wishing for the floor to open up and swallow her whole.

Fortunately, Cisco didn’t seem to have the same reservations. He confidently strolled up to the group of musicians, who all turned his way. A man she recognized as the lead singer stood up, reaching to shake Cisco’s hand.

“Ayy, brother. Good to see you again,” he said.

Again?Cisco had met these men before?

“Miguel, it’s been a while. Fucking solid show tonight,” Cisco replied.

“Muchas gracias.” Miguel ran a hand through his sweaty hair, which would have normally grossed Marisol out, but for a rockstar, she could make an exception.

Cisco dropped Marisol’s hand. The loss of his warmth disappointed her until she felt his hand on her back, gently urging her forward. “This is Marisol. It was her first concert.”

“Really?” Miguel asked, surprised. “Damn, that’s some pressure. Did we disappoint?”

“Oh, no! You guys were amazing. You’re like, my favorite band. I listen to your album all the time in the car.” Marisol winced. She spoke too quickly, sounding like an excited groupie and not the calm and collected adult she was trying to be.

Miguel chuckled. “We’re honored to be your go-to car album.” He then gestured to the other guys sitting around, clearly trying to catch their breath from their set. “This is Tito, Matías, and the bastard gasping for his breath is Óscar.”

Óscar flipped him off, throwing a half-empty plastic water bottle at Miguel, but he missed terribly and hit Tito’s chest.

“The fuck, man?” Tito frowned, grabbing the water bottle and smacking Óscar on the head. Óscar flipped him off too, and pretty soon they were all flipping each other off and hurling insults at one another. It somehow ended with laughter breaking out amongst them.

Men were fucking weird.

“You coming to the party with us, Cisco? You can bring your girl too,” Matías asked, and Marisol felt her cheeks redden.

She wasn’t Cisco’s girl, but the thought was appealing. Coming home to a hot tattooed man every night? She could thinkof worse things. But it was just a date. The first one she had in a long time after her marriage. And even before then, if she were being honest. She and Archie didn’t date. They made appearances.

Guilt coiled low in her belly at the thought of Archie. A man she was still technically married to. Didn’t matter that they were separated and had been for a while, or that Marisol held no love for him—on paper, she was a married woman. Something she should probably tell Cisco sooner rather than later…but now didn’t seem like the right time.

“Nah, we’re going to head out for the night. We just wanted to stop and get a picture,” Cisco said.

“That’s fine, pero we’re all sweaty,” Matías said, and all heads swiveled toward Marisol. “You don’t mind, do you?”

Sweaty, stinky men didn’t usually do it for Marisol, but she wouldn’t care if they had rolled in glue and feathers. She was getting a picture with her favorite band. “I don’t mind,” she assured.

Cisco looked around before stopping an employee who just dropped off water bottles and asked her to take their picture. The woman nodded and moved to stand in front of them. Cisco came around and put his arm around Marisol, pulling her close to his chest. She used to hate when Archie did this because it felt too possessive. But when Cisco did it, it felt respectful. Comforting even.

The rest of the band crowded in around them and, boy, could she smell each and every one of them. She hoped these men at least showered before attending their afterparty.

“Smile,” the woman said. For the first time in a long time, Marisol’s smile was pure and real. Her cheeks hurt from it, not having exercised those muscles enough. This night would go down as one of her most favorite nights of her life.

Once the woman took a few pictures, she handed Ciscoback his phone. “Thank you,” he said, quickly checking over the pictures. Marisol caught glimpses of each photo and barely recognized that smiling woman. “I’ll send you these,” he promised.

“It was really good to meet you all,” Marisol said to the band. It was brief, but that didn’t make it any less perfect. Each member offered her a polite smile and shook hands with Cisco before he led her out back.

Only once they were outside, away from The Sinner’s Web, did she let out the excited shriek she had been holding since the moment she saw them backstage. “Ohmygod!” Her words came out rushed. “They were so nice! Do you get to meet the bands often?”

Cisco grinned, his handsome face taking on a boyish quality as he flashed his teeth at her. “I do. It’s pretty cool, huh?”

“Uhm, yeah! I would be meeting all my favorite bands if I were in your position,” she said.

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