Page 50 of Legendary Rock Star
Just then my phone rang. She saw Phoenix’s name on my screen and waved at me as she said, “Looks like he’s calling you.”
And then she left. I answered and walked out, too. But I headed to the delivery bay to have a moment of privacy.
He said, “Maggie.”
I checked that no one was near me and then leaned against a black curtain on the wall and said, “Phoenix, Jane told me she loves how you arranged her song. She said you helped everyone.”
“You didn’t send me yours.”
“I don’t want your help,” I said, and wished that somehow sounded different. “Win or lose, this is all me now.”
I loved him. The thought hit me out of the blue. But love shouldn’t steal my dreams, right?
He said, “No worries. You’ll be great.”
My heart was twisted inside my chest and I closed my eyes to pretend for a minute he was here with me. I wanted his arms around me still, and I had goosebumps while my lips remembered his kiss. I asked, “So what’s going on with you?”
“Mark is still in for a meeting whenever you can get together, and he’s promised to set the money straight the second you do.”
Good. I let out a breath and opened my eyes. He wasn’t here. I stood straighter as I said, “We’ll see what happens here.”
“Of course.”
I heard cars arriving outside in the parking lot. Someone might come through the door any moment. My hair stood on its ends but I ignored how part of me wanted to leave here and just go to him. “I’m glad to hear that, about Mark. Look, I have to go.”
“Break a leg, Maggie.”
A tear escaped my eye. I wished that I could trust him, but I still didn’t quite believe that what had happened on stage was real.
So I said, “Goodbye,” and my entire body ached.
My shoulders were slumped as I went inside and headed to makeup.
Soon I was ready, in my black jeans and hot pink top, with my hair in a high ponytail for tonight’s ’90s-inspired performance.
But as I paced and went over the lyrics to my song, I suddenly found myself looking into a familiar set of brown eyes framed by blonde hair in a bob.
“Sweetheart, are you okay?”
This wasn’t their problem, but here they were: my mom, with my father right behind her.
I hugged her hard as I said, “Mom, Dad. What are you doing backstage?”
My mother ran her hand over my overdone ponytail as she asked, “We wanted to check on you. How are you doing?”
I shouldn’t need their support. The heat coursed through me as I reminded myself that I make my own mistakes and live my own life now. But I held that thought back and said, “I’ll be fine. It’s just a lot of work.”
My dad then said, “We won’t bother you. We just wanted to make sure that rock star didn’t hurt you.”
“He was … good.” I lowered my head but held my mom’s hand as I said, “I don’t know if I believe everything he said, though. Phoenix grew up knowing how to manipulate television.”
The opening music started. My mother ignored it and said, “Your heart knows what to believe.”
My stomach was in knots and I only had a minute. “But I am serious about moving to L.A. and taking my shot at a real music career.”
I could see the doubt in their eyes. I took my mom aside and my dad waited patiently as she said, “We do hope you come home.”
I’d explode if I didn’t say this now, so I kept my voice low so only Mom might hear me as I said, “I have to follow my dream.”
