We walked up a few stairs, and then we were in the dugout before walking up another set of stairs and out onto the field. Unlike when we took the stage at our concerts, no one cheered as we were led to four microphones that were set up on stands at home plate.
A few moments later, the stadium announcer spoke. “Ladies and gentlemen, please rise, and kindly remove your hats, and join in on the singing of our national anthem performed by California natives and rock band, Flirting with Fire.”
Jhett and I started to strum our guitars with a short riff, and then all four of us began to sing the lyrics of“The Star-Spangled Banner,”while Jhett and I strummed the melody.
I stared out into the stands, seeing almost every seat filled. It was by far the biggest arena we had performed at twenty-fold. When the short song was over, the entire crowd clapped and cheered, and excitement raced through me because one day the guys and I would be performing our own songs in front of the same number of people.
I just knew it.
Tonight, we were in Phoenix, and my heart was racing. We’d already spent two weeks driving to, and performing at, all of the California and Texas locations. After Arizona, we were going to Denver and then home. I was exhausted, but this was the location I’d been waiting for. I knew from past games that all of the players would be lined up on the first and third baselines. I’d even learned some baseball lingo, so I knew what the fuck was going on, but since I was basically a pro now—kidding—I knew that Slate would be standing on the third baseline. It wasn’t like that at all of the fields because each team got to choose their dugout and it wasn’t a rule per se, but I checked because I wanted to know where Slate would be. If I met up with him, I’d hoped he would be impressed with my research and knowledge of the game now.
Just like the other locations, we were led out onto the field and to home plate. This time, I stared at the men lining up on the white line, looking for the one I wanted to see again. When I spotted him, he looked up and our gazes locked. I smiled and winked, and my heart rate kicked up a notch or two. Fuck, he was better looking than I’d remembered. He grinned in return, and then I took my position behind one of the microphones and waited for our cue.
Everyone was asked to rise and remove their hats, and then we did what we were there to do. When we were done, and everyone was clapping, I looked over at Slate to see that he was still watching me. I wanted to walk to him, ask him how he had been doing,ask him anythingjust to be able to speak with him again. Instead, to my delight, he winked at me and then turned and ran to the outfield.
I just hoped that we didn’t leave Arizona before I was able to doeverythingI wanted to do to Slate.
At every game, we were given four lower level seats. Usually, the guys would get multiple beers and a massive amount of food to eat and drink while they pretended to watch the game. I would join in, of course, but tonight I didn’t want to get out of my seat. I wanted to watch every second of the game so I didn’t miss anything Slate did.
I also needed a way to talk to him.
Just as the first half of the fifth inning ended, I knew what I needed to do. The guys and I carried a few copies of our album on us at all times because we never knew when an opportunity would strike, and we would want to give someone a copy to get further in the business.
“Hey,” I said and got the attention of my friends. “How many copies of“Dreams and Nightmares”do you guys have on you?”
They all thought for a moment. “Five maybe,” James said,
“Yeah,” Stix and Jhett agreed.
“I need thirty-five.”
The four of them drew their heads back in confusion. “Thirty-five for what?” James questioned.
“To give the guys on the Diamondbacks.”
“Oh,” he replied, “that’s cool, but you want to give that many away now? We didn’t do that at the other fields.”
“The thought just occurred to me,” I admitted with a slight shrug. It was true, but I also was hoping that I could slip a note to Slate somehow without anyone knowing.
“Why?” Stix questioned.
I went to respond just as the crack of the bat sounded. I looked out onto the field to make sure that it wasn’t Slate. Luckily, it wasn’t. “We only have Colorado left. I think that if we can get the guys to listen to our music, they’d become fans, and that could lead to more fans.”
“I like it,” Jhett agreed.
“Okay, but how are you going to get thirty-five of them? They’re back at the hotel,” James asked.
I tilted my head slightly as I thought for a moment. “Kat’s at the hotel.” She always went to the hotel after we sang the national anthem because sports weren’t her thing. I didn’t question how she'd come up with the idea of us performing at games if it wasn’t something she was interested in.
“True. Call her, and see if she’d give them to someone to give to the guys tomorrow.”
Fuck that. I needed them now.
I stood. “I’ll call her.” I maneuvered out of the tight row and walked up the stairs until I was near the concession stands. After pulling my phone out of my pocket, I dialed our manager.
“Hey, Vaughn. What’s up?” Kat asked as her hello.
“I need you to bring me thirty-five copies of our album so I can give them to the Diamondbacks.”
