Page 23 of Backstage

“What happened to you to be so terrified of people’s judgment?” I ask her directly. I’m genuinely intrigued, but the harshness in her eyes makes me realize we’re not going very far.

“Nothing.” A simple word, dry, pronounced with a severity that leaves no room for a reply, makes me understand that the subject is not to be touched, that not even in a hundred years will I be able to tear it out of her mouth.

I understand her, I have my secrets too, but she’s not making my life easy.

“Alright. But we can’t spend the night up here freezing our balls off. We’re gonna go downstairs, we’re gonna have a nice conversation about the questions the bitch sent us, we’re gonna prepare the answers, and then we’re gonna get some adrenaline flowing, okay?”

I appreciate Evan making it a rule that we are sent the interview questions before we record it. It’s saved us many unwelcome surprises, and most importantly, allows us to say, “This wasn’t among the agreed-upon questions,” to the answers we don’t want to give. Too bad it can’t be done with press conferences as well.

She studies me a little, my firm air and resolute words that won’t take no for an answer. I’m almost sure she’ll accept, she’s too professional and has a strong sense of duty. She just needs time and someone who won’t give her any loopholes. Her bandmates have always indulged her without ever forcing her to face her fears. I can understand. They’re kids, but I’m not, and I learned early on that when you start running away, you can’t do anything else for the rest of your life. But if, by chance, reality catches up with you, it won’t wait until you’re ready. It’s gonna run you over, knock you down and make you bleed.

Lilly nods and heads towards the door we came out of, leaving me a view of her body moving sinuously in the high heels she’s wearing.

*

“You have to stick it in the hole, Jenkins, not caress it. Use the damn stick.”

I get a look that makes me laugh. “You may be used to tinkering with balls and cues, Jones, but this is the third time in my life I’ve done this.” I’m amused by her impertinence.

“You’ve lived in Brooklyn all your life and never played pool?” I’m shocked by her statement. I can’t believe it.

Lilly gets up, letting go of the game, and comes at me with a threatening gesture, pointing the cue at my chest, tapping a couple of light, intimidating strokes. “Maybe that’s normal for a guy. But a woman can’t afford to be bent over a table, surrounded by the horny guys who frequents these places...unless she wants to end up with, if she’s lucky, a slap on the ass and a squeeze on her tits when she gets up.”

I’ve never seen it from this point of view. I’ve always enjoyed the sight of a nice ass, but I never wondered what the girl in question was thinking. Many of the girls I met in bars were really just there to play pool, and they could drink and swear right alongside the men. I’ve always justified it by telling myself that I would never hurt them, that I only ever looked at them, and would never go further without their consent, but I realize now how sexist this reasoning is.

“Okay, I’ll show you how it’s done,” I say, taking the cue from her hands and bending over the green cloth myself instead of getting behind her with my bulky presence in a position that would have been embarrassing. It’s the first time in my life that instead of hitting on someone I’d like to fuck, I want to protect her and make her feel safe.

Apparently, I’m an exceptional teacher because Lilly starts sticking her balls in the hole, one after the other, and, if I’m not careful, I risk my ego suffering humiliation. I have a lot of work to do to win this game and the next two.

“Are you ready to go on stage?” I ask her when Dave, the head of security, tells me it’s time to start playing.

I see the smile fade but without the anxiety of a few hours ago. “Knowing that that bitch is in the audience taking notes and will tear me apart later makes me appreciate less what I love most in the world. Playing.”

I can hear the annoyance in her voice, and it pisses me off. You can see that when she’s on stage, she changes, that music is her whole life, and the thought of Jenna taking away the one thing that makes her feel good makes me angry. I know first-hand how music can save you from yourself.

“Don’t think about it. We’ll fix it later. Right now, just enjoy the moment. I’ll be with you during the interview. You know I’m good at getting up and leaving if things don’t go my way.” I wink at her, and she laughs.

“Yes, I have a vague recollection of a dozen press conferences where you appeared for five seconds. Journalists are now terrified when they have to ask you questions.”

“It’s not my fault; they’re shitty questions!”

Lilly bursts into a loud laugh, and I can feel the tension lifting a bit from the air around us.

Getting on stage is a piece of cake. We exchange a few jokes with each other; Luke seems to be exceptionally attentive to Lilly, which comforts me because Jenna is in the front row, right in front of us with her phone pointed at our faces. Unfortunately, it doesn’t take long for Lilly to notice it and stiffen up next to me. Luckily, we decided to start off with “Jude,” sung only by the two of us with the others’ accompaniment.

“Look only at me,” I whisper to her while I adjust the microphone.

She raises her big terrified eyes to mine and I almost melt. I know right now she just wants to run away from this stage so I grab her hand, turn her around on the stool until she is in front of me, take my microphone, and put it between us. I get closer, wedging our legs together to be close enough to share the microphone and smile at her.

She seems to hold her breath for a second, then she relaxes a bit and hints at a half-smile. I put my hand on her leg and caress her for a few moments until I see her relax that stiff posture and let go.

“Jude, I saw how you smiled when you met my look…” The words escape my lips as if Lilly were there instead of Jude. I look her straight in the eye and everything else disappears. I watch her cheeks blush, unprepared for this more intimate performance than usual. I smile to reassure her. She smiles back at me, and without thinking about it, I move a lock of hair behind her ear that falls on her cheek. The contact with her soft skin is an electric charge that reaches my chest, making my heart explode. The way she tilts her head almost imperceptibly against my hand makes it hard to swallow.

“Jude, I saw how you blushed as you kissed me…” As she utters those words, her gaze brushes against my lips for an instant and then rises again to my eyes with a disarming sweetness. God, I wish I could kiss her right now. I would love to hold her in my arms and plunge my tongue into her mouth and savor her until I am full.

“Jude, I watched you slip out of the sheets, and I was afraid you’d never come back…” My voice is hoarse, full of the excitement I’m finding hard to contain. I’d like to see her slipping out of my bed, naked, with her hair messed up after a night of tasting every inch of her skin. I wink at her and she blushes, trying to contain a smile that spreads across her face. Sooner or later, the day will come when I can admire the blush of her cheeks as she moves sinuously over me, stripped of everything except those glasses, making her look sexy and innocent at the same time.

We sing the whole first song like this, without ever taking our eyes off each other. I’d do anything to keep her from meeting Jenna’s eyes again, who, in this intimate place, is very close to the stage. When the song ends, I struggle to turn towards the audience again, moving the microphone to play “Two Hearts.” I deliberately avoid laying eyes on Jenna, and I see Thomas staring at me with a sly smile on his face. My lips curl upwards, unable to hold back a happiness I can’t explain.

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