Page 37 of Rebooting Conor Flynn

Duck behind the curtain.

Put a bag over your head.

But my feet remained rooted to the floor as the melody washed over me, leaving pure longing throbbing in my veins.

Audience members in the front row turned their heads. Maybe they thought Conor was watching some commotion in the wings. Should I cause a ruckus to warrant his attention over here? I was good at that. I could bring down the whole curtain if I wanted.

I mumbled to myself, “Eyes forward, Con.”

I was seconds away from hiding myself when the song ended and lights splashed across the crowd. This signaled Conor’s closing set and the beginning of Ashley’s, which they’d kick off with their duet.

Thank goodness that was over. Hearing whispers, I glanced behind me at a bunch of dancers, their heads together, occasionally eyeing me over their shoulders. They must be talking about my disastrous turn on the stage during the first rehearsal. Right?

Drawing closer to the stage, arms crossed, I tapped my foot to the opening strains of Ashley and Conor’s duet. C’mon Con. Put your heart into this one. Give the crowd what they want—Conley 2.0.

I held my breath as Ashley started her verse. Would she hit the high note? The high note came and went, and she opted for a lower note, but her fans didn’t notice. Conor didn’t seem to care either.

They sounded good. They looked good. We had this first show in the bag with no major disasters.

As they turned to face each other for the chorus, Ashley touched Conor’s cheek and looked into his eyes. Conor looked past her shoulder at...me.

I swallowed hard and shook my head.

Would Ashley catch on? She spun back toward the crowd and belted out her next verse. She held the mic out to the audience, and the A-Bens sang right back to her.

I swiped at a bead of sweat on my forehead with the back of my hand. Ashley was in her element. Her screaming fans, who copied her hairstyle and fashion, claimed all her focus. She wouldn’t notice if the entire stage fell down around her—not that I had any ideas in that direction.

The song ended, and Conor couldn’t get away from Ashley fast enough. He waved to the crowd, gave Ashley a peck on the cheek, and sprinted off stage...to me.

He grabbed my shoulders. “What did you think? Went well, yeah?

I twisted out of his grip. “So good, Con. Look, I gotta talk to security. You should chill out. Don’t you drink that tea after a performance?”

“You gave us that tea. Always looking after us.”

I couldn’t look into his soft eyes. What had come over him?

“Still doing it.” I waved my hand over my shoulder vaguely. “Need to discuss something with security.”

In my rush to get away from Conor, I tripped on the top step and almost tumbled down the remaining five. But Conor was right behind me and grabbed me around the waist, pulling me against his chest.

He buried his face in my hair. “I guess it’s my job to keep you safe on stage—and in buses...and anywhere else.”

I placed my hands on the arms wrapped around me. I wanted to stay like this forever, but we both had jobs to do, and neither of those jobs included clinches at the edge of the stage while his fake mate performed.

I patted the backs of his hands. “Thanks. Can’t take me anywhere, but I really need to get to security before they move on.”

He released me. “If I don’t see you for the rest of the concert, you are going to Charlie’s after the show, right? He’d be so disappointed if he didn’t see you.”

“I’ll be there.” I tapped my throat. “Take care of your voice.”

I made my way down the steps and ducked into the pit in front of the stage. I huddled with the security team watching Ashley’s performance. I didn’t really have to consult with them, but it seemed as good a place as any to disappear behind their bulky frames.

The stage show was tight—the dancers on point, the band hitting the beat, even the beach background fit the vibe. Ashley commanded it all like a conductor. But her voice? She had two or three songs with good vocal quality, and that depended on how much she let the audience carry the load. But as her set continued, she let the fans take over.

Could she keep this up for a whole six-week tour? Her manager, Orlando, had been worried about Ashley’s image. Maybe he should’ve been more concerned about her voice.

Jackson bumped into me and immediately righted me as if I were a doll teetering on a shelf. “Sorry, Noelle. Didn’t see you there. Did you need something?”