Page 45 of Composed at Randy's
It's good to be upfront about this, especially since it’s Harvey's main reason why I can't take Wren on tour with us. All I need to do now is find Wren and convince him to come.
I wait patiently for the crowd's reaction. Currently, it’s nothing but crickets out there.
I accept that I might have just turned away most of my fans, and maybe I've killed my career, but I don't care. I'm not here for the fame, and I already have the fortune. I do what I do because I love doing it, and if being honest makes my fans hate me, then I will keep doing my thing anyway.
It’s just now occurring to me that I’m not the only member of this band. Well, shit. I should have thought this out more. They'll probably be okay if they kick me out, right?
I turn to give my guys an apology, and I'm just in time to see the full-speed group tackle hug coming my way.
The crowd erupts. The stage shakes from the force of the cheers and stamping feet, and it makes it impossible for me to keep my footing while Mel, Travis, and Shay throw themselves at me. We all go down in a pile of flailing limbs.
I try to free myself, but my bandmates are all really strong, so if they want to cling to you, they're staying.
I can tell that the crowd was a huge fan of my little speech because once the din dies down a little, I can pick out things like, “We love you, Bael!” “Marry me and we can have a three-way!” “I would die for your boyfriend; he sounds adorable!” and my favorite, which was, “Go get your man!”
When the crowd is finally quiet, Mel says, “We stand behind Bael, obviously. And he's right, you're all really fantastic fans, sowe're going to count on you to shut down the trolls online when you find them.”
“What he said,” Travis says with all the black cat energy he can muster.
Shay just snorts and says, “If we're done with the feelings portion of the evening, can we get back to what we're here for?”
I gather them all into a bear hug and squeeze until I know they probably all need air. Then I haul us all to our feet when I stand up. I know, I'm very strong, and as you can see, it comes in handy sometimes.
“Let’s do this thing,” I yell, and the stadium goes bananas once more. Is anyone else like me who doesn't know how to spell the word banana? I just type ba and keep adding na over and over again until it looks right or I give up.
No?
Just me?
Whatever. Anyway, the next two hours are insane. I have more energy than I’ve ever had on stage before and that’s saying something. I think it's safe to say that we killed the ever-loving shit out of this concert.
Mel is our guitarist and backup vocals, but tonight the slut gets to do lead on our cover of “Shout” by Tears for Fears. Mel has been slaving over getting the vocals right for months now and absolutely slayed.
I’ve never been prouder.
Even Shay shows more than thetoo-cool-for-wordsfacade he crafted to use for stage performances. I swear to you that he actually smiled.Twice. Also, his keyboard work is usually outstanding, but tonight he really went all out.
And me? I sing my fucking heart and soul into every second because I’m imagining Wren being here with me, listening to me perform. I make every single goddamned note my bitch.
At the end where we usually do several encores after the first one, the crowd starts chanting, “Go get your man!” until I give a final bow and run off the stage.
It was fucking epic.
The next part is tricky.
I don't have to worry about takedown because the tech crew has that locked down. However, the bus isn't remotely ready to go because the guys had all of their personal stuff unloaded already, and it would be shitty to take off with it and leave them stranded here. Also, even though the bus definitely isn’t haunted by Elvis’s old kitchen fan, I’m still not taking any chances and riding in that thing alone.
My phone is ringing, but I see that it's Harvey, and I'm not interested in having him brutally destroy my eardrums, so I hit ignore and stuff my phone back into my pocket. Then I realize he may have info about Wren, so I skid to a stop, whip it back out, and text him.
Bael
Is this about Wren?
Harvey
No, but we need to talk about what you just?—
I stop reading, stuff my phone back into my pocket, and start running once more.
