The women down front are scantily dressed, with lots of makeup and big smiles. They know every word to every song and spend a lot of time calling to us. All of us. Even me. They want attention, a pick, something—anything—to take a piece of us, and the show, home with them.
Twenty years ago, I never took advantage of any of that because I had Clara.
And now I have Wynter.
But it’s okay because she’s worth a hundred groupies.
The lights go down, the main part of the show is over, and we go off stage.
“Six minutes,” Pete calls to us.
That’s how long the crowd will have to wait for the encore.
“We’re doing Shoot and Break!” Z calls even though the set list is printed on multiple pieces of paper taped to various places on the stage.
“Break Your Promise” is the band’s biggest hit, and the crowd knows it’s coming, but first is “Shoot For the Stars.”
And they’re excited for that too.
If I’m honest, it never gets old watching an audience put their fists in the air to sing along to something I wrote when I was nineteen years old. The first song I ever wrote with the band. The first hit. The first everything. And twenty years later it still rocks.
For some reason, this next song will be the hardest for me. Even though I know the words backward and forward. Even though the crowd has been eating it up all night. Even though I’m having the time of my life.
But it brings back all the memories.
They’re not terrifying anymore but they still pack a punch, making me a little lightheaded.
Until I feel soft fingers on my forearm.
I turn to Wynter and she just smiles. Like she knows I need something—or someone—to ground me. And I smile back. She gets it. Gets me. I lean over and press a soft kiss on her lips.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
“Always,” she whispers back.
Then Pete gives the signal and I’m back out there.
We finish the set on a high note and by the time it’s over, I’m past the momentary flashbacks. In fact, I’m riding high as hell.
This is the part that becomes…addicting.
The high of performing is unlike any other feeling. I was too busy grieving to miss it when I moved on all those years ago but it’s different this time. This time, it’s temporary so I can already sense how difficult it’s going to be to go back to being Ross the tour manager.
I love my job. Even in the midst of all of this, I still worry that everything is going smoothly, that the band will have everything they need to perform at the level they do. It’s a little confusing, to be honest. Because I don’t know where Ross Sanderson ends and Ross Rockit begins. I locked Ross Rockit into the deepest, darkest part of my soul, where I never, ever tapped into that part of me.
Until now.
It’s like I knew it would be impossible to separate the two if I ever tried to perform again.
And now I have.
I don’t know what that means for my future, but short-term, I have to stay focused and not allow myself to think about the what-ifs.
Right up until I got on stage tonight, I thought I would be okay going back to being Ross the tour manager.
Now I’m not so sure.
It scares me because I’m way too old to start over. I don’t have a band, I don’t want to spend my nest egg to live like a starving musician for an indefinite length of time, and if I’m going to be with Wynter, I need to be able to support us. As a man, that’s important to me.
