I nod. “Thanks. I’ll try.”
I glance around one last time.
Pete talking into his earpiece.
Tommy jogging in place.
Z rolling his neck.
Devyn hovering over Kingston because his voice got even worse today. He’s only going to do one song tonight, even though he’ll play piano and talk to the crowd a bit. We’re all worried about him but he has an appointment to see a specialist when we get to Seattle next week.
And Wynter.
Standing off to the side with Harley, giving me space so I can focus on the task at hand. Clara used to do that too. Somehow, she always sensed what I needed before I needed it. I’m not about to compare Clara and Wynter—they’re two totally different women—but there’s something about Wynter that reminds me of my late fiancée. Not looks, not even personality. It’s more about the way they both make me feel.
It’s not something I can articulate—not yet anyway—it’s simply a feeling. One that stays with me as I watch the rest of the band walk on stage.
The rest of the band.
Like I’m one of them.
Knock it off, Ross. This is temporary. This isn’t your band.
I breathe in and out a few times, taking long, cleansing breaths.
Tonight’s show will be a lot more taxing than the last. I’m singing more songs, interacting with the audience more, and truly playing the part of lead singer of Onyx Knight.
And if I’m not careful, it could mess with my head.
“Vegas!” It’s Z’s deep, booming voice. “How the hell are ya? Did you miss us?”
The audience goes wild, whistling and cheering.
“So, we have good news and bad news,” he continues. “The bad news is that Kingston is still recovering from laryngitis—but the good news is that he’s still here and we have an amazing line-up for you tonight because we’ve invited some friends to join us.” Instead of disappointment, the crowd is into it, yelling even louder.
“And the amazing Ross Rock-it is here to fill in when King needs rest—what the hell do you think of that?”
I walk out on stage, my arms in the air, listening to the excitement.
They do remember, brother.
Fuck, it’s hard when I hear my band’s voices in my head but the cheers make up for the sadness.
I grab the mike as Tommy counts off for “Shiny Pieces.” It was the band’s first single and hit, and it’s always a fun way to start a show. Ironically, this song is also the one I think I do best because it’s in my vocal register and has a feel similar to that of my own songs. The rest of the set is harder—Ross & the Rock-its were more pop rock than hard rock—but I’m not worried about the rest of the set.
This is a one song, one set, one day at a time situation.
All I have to do is sing and not get too attached to the spotlight.
Because it’s addicting.
I told Wynter I’m not an addict—and I’m not, not in the true sense of the word—but it’s hard to not get accustomed to the accolades. The applause. The money.
Okay, not now.
I focus on the music, trying to be myself while still representing Onyx Knight the best way I can. I’m still me, with my own voice and sound, but this is their music, their show. I have to remember that.
As I stare down into the audience, I realize that despite how long it’s been, not a lot has changed.
