@WyattLucas:Bedazzling it for her as we speak.
His thoughtful answer fills me with enough giddy energy to leave my phone with Raleigh and join my band at the end of the long hallway.
“There you are.” Joe, my drummer, sighs. “Thought we were going to have to go on without you.” He smirks, and the rest of the group laughs as we take our usual positions in the huddle. I start my spiel as the crowd stomps their feet on the bleachers outside.
“It’s an honor to be here to play for these lovely folks today!” I yell over the all-familiar roar. “Let’s get out there and carry theenergy through the whole set. Nothing but barnburners on the list today, team. Let’s kill it!”
Everyone puts their hand in the middle and then throws them into the air, signaling the break of our huddle. I grab my banjo, take a sip of water, and skip out behind the rest of my band members. Raising my hand to the crowd, I take a moment to wave as my sparkly dress captures the lights of the arena.
Some of the Cowboys that will compete later have come down to the ground level. I nod my head in their direction, and they tip their hats. That used to throw me off–a handsome cowboy looking my way–but right now, I only have eyes for one guy. Looking up towards the rafters, I see the seats are still empty. I try not to let it hinder my joy of the performance. He told me they’d be late.
Twirling along to the fiddle and steel, I find my way up to the mic, and the band plays their loop once more before my time at the mic begins.
***
Feeling tired by the end, I know I’ve got one more song to get through. As I grab a sip of water from the bottle at my feet, I glance up into the crowd searching for Wyatt and his family. I find my northern star quickly and take a deep breath. I can confidently say I’ve never had someone I truly care about in the audience at a show. I don’t want to squander the feeling, so I attempt to soak in every bit of it as the music swells. As my band ramps up the volume slightly, I’m zapped back to the present.
Fourth quarter crunch time.
Great, Wyatt’s got me thinking in football terms now. I beam up at him and his family, and I swear I see him smile back.They’d made it about halfway through, and I’ve hardly been able to avert my eyes since.
Wiping the sweat from my forehead, I take a step up to the mic and motion for my fiddle player to come forward. “Now, Texas,” the mention of their state prompts extra screams. “I know you have a saying around here,” I take the fiddle from Theresa’s hands, and she takes a harmonica from her pocket, “and I think that saying might be something like, ‘If you’re gonna play in Texas, you’ve gotta have a fiddle in the band.’”
The crowd erupts as Theresa and her harmonica queue me in. I’ve been practicing these strings obsessively lately, but nothing prepared me for the energy in this crowd that would take the tempo to a new level. The passion of the audience carries me through, and I know my vocals are killing it.
“You Can Keep the Ring, I Bet It Fits What’s-Her-Name” is the most energizing song I’ve ever written; it also has the longest title known to man. Like most of my songs about a woman wronged by a man, this one is dedicated to my wonderful ex and everything that led to our ultimate demise. It’s a fan favorite and the perfect end to a great set.
Chapter 11
Wyatt
I MAKE MY EXCUSES to leave as Mae and her band take their final bows. Seeing her perform in this environment was an eye-opener. Here in a dusty arena with thousands of cowboys, cowgirls, and onlookers, she was able to keep her stamina through an entire hour set without any breaks. I didn’t even get to see the first half, but I know she killed that, too.
Flashing my lanyard as I descend down to the ground floor, I circle around toward the back where I run into Dalton coming off the pit. He waves me over, and we head back into the staging area. I spy her before she can see me, so I take the chance to observe her.
She’s greeting a few special guests, signing a few items and taking pictures. In her element, she looks so unbelievably happy. I let out a breath, lean against the wall, and try to avoid staring at her like a creep. I can’t look away when she kneels down to eye level with a little girl and snaps a picture with her. The young girlstarts crying and wraps her arms around Mae, nearly toppling her to the ground. I watch her lean into the girl and give her a genuine hug. It’s heartwarming. Still in the hug, Mae's eyes finally slide over to me.
I give her a slight wave to let her know I’m not here to rush or interrupt her while she’s working. When the little girl is finally dragged away by her teary-eyed mother and the final party member moves down the line, Mae makes a beeline straight towards me. Not sure what she’s going to do, I outstretch my arms, and she hops right into them. Swinging her around, she hugs me tightly before we both release.
A nervous laugh escapes her lips as she tucks a loose section of hair behind her ear. “Sorry, I kind of have this nervous energy after a show -”
“Haven’t lost the adrenaline yet? I know the feeling.” She smiles at that and takes my hand.
“Let me change, and then we can go get a hot dog or something. I’m starving.” This extracts a laugh from me. Mae Evans, global superstar, hotdog fan.
She leaves me outside the green room with Dalton and Raleigh as she goes in to change. After a few minutes, Raleigh knocks. “Hey rockstar. I got some good pictures of the show and the signing.” She glances over at me and grins. Turning the phone towards me I see she got a shot of her in my arms, though my face isn’t shown. “I’m going to get a few more when you go back out to watch.”
“That’s fine.” Mae’s muffled voice floats through the door. “Just make sure Carly and Benjamin’s faces aren’t in them. I don’t want anyone to be uncomfortable.”
“Already noted,” Raleigh says, backing away.
The discretion and kindness shown in that simple ask are almost too much for me. Hannah had made it clear on multiple occasions to Ben’s social media manager and Steven that thekids were not to be used in photos unless explicitly stated by her. I make a mental note to ask her if she’d told Mae or if Mae had come to that conclusion herself.
Feet away, Raleigh turns on her heel and returns. “Oh, and uh, one more thing!” she calls through the door. “Emmy Tenny’s team wants to collaborate with a post about the signing. Okay, bye!” Mae swings the door open quickly, but Raleigh is already running away. “I’ve got it taken care of!” she calls over her shoulder.
Raleigh’s words ease Mae almost instantly, and she goes back to running a brush through her hair. I saw the news before the show, and while I’m not caught up on Emmy Tenny lore, I do know a few of her rock songs from the 80s. I didn’t know Mae was such a fan, though.
Calm now, Mae turns to me and pulls me inside. Into her space. Her sequined dress is draped over a chair, and her makeup is sprawled over the vanity in an organized chaos. The room feels lived in, though I’m sure she’s only been here a few hours. I can’t stop myself from picturing what her living room looks like, her kitchen, her bedroom -
