Page 38 of The Temptation of Truth
My face hurts from the size of my smile. I’m so engrossed in the excitement that I barely notice the security guard approaching.
“Mrs. Sinclair, did you want to stay for the encore, or do you want to come backstage now and miss the crowd?”
I focus on the man in front of me. I recognize him. He’s been standing off to the side of the VIP tent the whole show, but I don’t know his name.
“I’d like to stay, if that’s all right,” I say, my voice raised so he can hear me over the chanting.
He nods. “Mr. Hammond requests that you not leave this area without an escort, so wait here after the encore, and I’ll come get you.”
“Okay. Thank you.”
He nods, then moves back to his earlier position, and I turn my attention back to the stage. Someone brushes past me with anexcuse meas she leaves the VIP tent. She smells faintly of orange blossom, but I don’t look away from the stage.
“It’s okay,” I say absently, but she’s already walking away.
Then the lights come back up and the audience screams so loudly that I have to cover my ears. The band comes back on stage, and Sav picks up her guitar and leans into the mic.
“You want a few more, then?” The response is deafening cheers, and she laughs again. “Okay, Melbourne. We hear you.”
The Hometown Heartless plays three more songs, and I dance and sing along with ninety thousand other fans. By the time the stadium lights turn on for good, I’m sweaty and exhausted, but I’m still buzzing with energy.
They say a Heartless concert is a religious experience, but it’s more than that. It’s not religion. It’s a revival. I felt it when I was sixteen. I feel it now. It’s no wonder their fandom stretches the globe.
My smile stays wide, my cheeks almost aching as I watch fans filter out of the stadium. I stay put just as my uncle requested, and to his credit, the security guard arrives promptly.
“Are you ready, Mrs. Sinclair?”
I flinch. He called me Mrs. Sinclair earlier, but now, with the house lights up and the noise level down, the title feels almost like a sharp pinch to the side.
“You can call me Aurora.”
“Aurora. Are you ready? I can take you backstage now.”
“I’m ready.”
I follow the man from the VIP tent to an exit door. When I ask his name, he tells me it’s Jones, but other than that, the walk is silent. He’s not much for small talk, and the closer we get to the backstage area, the happier I am about it.
I’m so nervous that I feel a bit lightheaded.
I’ll see you after the show.
It’s after the show. I’m going to be going out with Mabel tonight. Just a matter of hours, probably. We’ll be at a restaurant with a rooftop bar andchill music. Somewhere trendy. Somewhere cool.
I tug on the top of my flowy black dress, adjusting the strapless bra underneath. This is the sexiest thing I brought with me, and it’s better suited for a day at the beach than a night out. It beats everything else I had in my suitcase, though. Cotton sundresses, mostly. Of all the things I packed, this is the mostrock and rollI could come up with.
Chin up. Shoulders back.
I picture myself across from a pub table with Mabel, or perhaps seated beside her at a bar top. The promise of proximity makes my skin buzz in anticipation. The most delicious kind of excitement. I want to sprint to the dressing room, but I don’t. I probably couldn’t find it on my own even if I tried. This place is an absolute maze. I keep up with Jones, two of my strides to his one, and I chew on the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling too big.
It's just a night out with a new friend.
Just a few drinks and some chill music at a trendy rooftop bar with Mabel Rossi, drummer for The Hometown Heartless. I haven’t had a friend in so long. That’s why I’m excited.
I bite my lower lip and fist my hands in front of me.
Just be cool, I tell myself.Act like this is no big deal.
She’s just a famous, gorgeous, flirtatious rock star.
