“I’m not sure I know all the lyrics,” I hedge, looking from Kingston to Kellen and back again.
“I still have all the lyric sheets from when I first joined the band,” Devon says, turning to one of the guitar techs and motioning him over. “Pete, do you still have my lyric sheets?”
He nods and runs toward one of the supply cases rooting around until he pulls out a stack of papers and brings them to us.
“Look at me,“ I say, motioning to my ratty jeans and T-shirt as I realize this is going to happen. “I’m not stage ready.”
“So, you’ll do it?” Kellen asks, eyes sparking with excitement.
They’re all watching me expectantly.
How the hell do I say no?
“And what happens if I fuck it up?” I demand. “My voice isn’t trained for this anymore.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Kingston says, before grimacing and holding up his hands to Devyn, who glares at him.
“Here.” Pete pulls a leather vest out of one of the supply chests. “Tommy wears this sometimes but he gets too hot. It should fit.”
“Take your shirt off,” Devyn instructs, motioning for me to hurry up.
Thank God I spend a lot of time at the gym.
I pull on the vest, thinking I look ridiculous, but Devyn grins. “You look hot.”
“What song do you know the best?” Z asks.
My mind momentarily goes blank.
Do I know the full lyrics to any of their songs?
I have to think fast because Tommy’s solo is almost over.
I catch him looking in our direction and he seems to understand something is happening, because instead of winding down, he picks up speed again.
These guys really are amazing.
I owe it to them to make this work.
Two or three songs will save the show and Kingston’s voice.
“Probably ‘Judgement Call,’” I say after a few seconds. “And ‘Break Your Promise,’ but we’re saving that for last, right?”
Z nods. “Yeah. So, let’s do Judgment, then ‘Symphony of the Broken.’ Devyn can sing that one with you while King plays piano.”
“I can do the background vocals on that one,” Kingston says, before quickly clapping his hand over his mouth and backing away from Devyn.
“You guys suck, you know that?” I stare at them.
“You got this, bro.” Pete nods and claps me on the shoulder. “Ross Rockit is in there somewhere. You just gotta dig deep.”
Christ.
Has everyone known all along and just pretended they didn’t?
What does that even mean?
Am I the asshole for trying to pretend to be someone I’m not? Or that I’m not someone I am?
