As soon as the cameras cut for commercial, an army of people are clearing the field, including our bench for the halftime performance. As we’re whisked away back to the locker room for a long halftime, I allow my mind to slip to Mae for two seconds. I know she’ll kill her performance, and I can’t wait to watch through it with her by my side.
When I almost run into a stage manager barreling down the hall out toward the stage, I let myself recenter. Picking up my head, I jog, careful not to slip on the smooth concrete floor, to Ben who has his head down. “Talk to me, buddy,” I say, bumping his helmet with mine.
“Just trying to figure out how to communicate better.” I notice how his head is lower than usual.
“Head up, man. This is the loudest stadium we’ve ever played in, by far. It’s clearly messing with them, too. Let’s get through this locker talk and then we’ll ask Coach. But seriously, we’re doing fine. We got this.”
“I know we do.” We bump the helmets in our hands one more time before entering the locker room. Teammates are talking about the game when we initially enter, but as soon as the coaches open the door, it goes silent. Everyone’s giddy to hear what they have to say.
My assessment about them being pleased with our performance is mostly true, but it wouldn’t be our coaching staff if they didn’t chew us out for a few mistakes and demand better.It lights a fire under our asses to keep pushing and to make sure no stupid mistakes are made when we go back out to the field.
Following a similar pattern as before the game, coaches talk, captains talk, and then we split off into our groups to strategize. Ben and the receivers meet in the corner briefly before Ben breaks off to talk to Coach about the communication issue.
Knowing we have extra time, I wander into the training room and glance up at the TV where they are broadcasting the game.
“Do you need something, Lucas?” Emmaline, one of the trainers, asks. She cocks her head to the side as she looks up from the ice machine in the corner. I shake my head and just gesture up at the monitor. She nods in understanding and then twirls her ice bag closed.
There’s no sound, but it doesn’t matter. I can see her, and she looks amazing. Without hearing her, I know she’s killing it; the whole group is. Staring up at the TV with a stupid grin, I catch her tipping back into the crowd of dancers before it’s time to move once again.
Turning away from the TV, I can’t believe that this dream of mine is right here in front of me. I can feel the win deep in my bones. At the end of this game tonight, I will be a world champion, and I’ll have Mae to go home to. I’m going to make it a reality.
Clenching my fists, I drag my helmet off my locker chair and shove it on my head. I’m ready to earn, to take what’s mine; what’s ours. I’m not backing down until that trophy is lifted by the team and Mae is in my arms.
Chapter 36
Mae
JUST AS WE HAD at rehearsals, Theresa and I track the camera across the field toward the ramp where Emmy is about to rock this audience’s world. As Theresa leaves me, I give a fun little twirl and then skip up the ramp where Emmy emerges. In a brief pause, I see her eyes light up with the joy of performing.
Sidling up next to her, I accentuate my facial expressions for the cameras and Emmy follows my lead. As she starts to sing, I step back into line with the other members and play along on my black guitar. I really do pride myself on my musicianship, so being able to take a whole performance to showcase my guitar skills is quite fun for me.
As the final chorus of Emmy’s medley comes in, I step up to the mic with her and we harmonize on the final notes. Taking out our in-ears, we hear just how loud the crowd is. Emmy points at her ears as the cameras pan back out to the next group of singers. I just nod as the two of us are led off stage.
When the finale ends, the cameras all cut to break, and then we’re being hustled back into the belly of the stadium. If the setup was quick, the takedown is nearly instantaneous. The stars are corralled for a photo before we all break up to go our separate ways.
Emmy approaches me and I realize that through the lines on her face and the gray of her hair, I still recognize the 20-something woman I watched countless videos of performing when I was younger. Her passion for this has been apparent to me, even with the short amount of time I’ve had with her. It gives me hope for my future – that despite all the hell I’ve been through and all that is inevitably ahead, I might still enjoy the craft by the end of it. The woman stops in front of me, realizing that I’m studying her.
“Emmy, I’m so honored to have been able to perform with you,” I blurt.
She squints her eyes at me momentarily, trying to study me now. “Dear girl, the pleasure was mine.” She steps inches from me and raises a hand to my hair. “Don’t let them take your spark. You promise me that?”
Is that what they did to her? Did she not flee to Denver on her own accord? Unfortunately, these questions won’t be answered today, as she’s still looking for one from me. “I promise,” I say in a strong breath.
I don’t know if I’ve answered truthfully or not. I’ve never let anyone in the industry dull my shine, but I am getting older; who knows how many more years they’ll tolerate me running the show.
“I didn’t mean to scare you,” Emmy says, moving her hand to my shoulder. “I just want you to give them all hell, from one legend to another.” My eyes dart up to her at the mention of legend. “Oh, you’re well on your way to that title, Mae.” Shepats me once more on the shoulder and before I know it, she’s moving away from me without another word.
“I need to know more,” Theresa says, stepping up next to me.
“Me too,” I answer, staring after the spunky older woman.
“But I also want to watch the rest of the game.” She grabs my arm and leads me toward the elevator. I let her take me, because as much as I want to know Emmy Tenny, I want to watch Wyatt achieve his dream even more.
We meet the rest of the band in the suite. Raleigh greets me with nothing but good news about the trending hashtags and reviews of the performance. Usually I’d ask to scroll through but all I want now is to see Wyatt. I smile at Raleigh in passing and meet Hannah and the kids near the balcony.
“Mae!” Carly squeals. She darts up from her chair and reaches up for me. Snatching the kid into my arms, she starts explaining the half-time show in detail, about how awesome I was and how she wants to know the old lady's songs because she “rocked.”
I vibrate with a laugh. “I’m glad I have your approval, Carly.”
