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“Abbey.” She says, sounding rather annoyed. “Let’s go. We needed to get you into your mic pack like five minutes ago.” She is unphased by my present stage. “Pull it together.”
I nod at her words. No matter what I am feeling, I don’t have a choice. I have to take the stage. I have a show to play, songs to sing, fans to please.
I pull out the vial and do one more bump.
“Let’s go.” She says again, and I stand up straight, taking a deep breath. “Come on. You got this.” She adds, her voice mellowing out, sounding a little more pleasant.
I nod and walk to the door, running my fingers under my eyes to wipe away any liquid that may have leaked from them. Following her down the hallway to the side of the stage, I pretend to ignore the crowd of people standing by the rails. Someone quickly attaches a mic pack to me while someone else puts an earpiece in my ear. I stare out at the stage. A mic stand with a microphone on it is standing center stage, waiting for me.
Two men stand ready to take the stage with me. Dean and Todd, the bassists and one of my guitarists, who are part of my backing band on this tour. The lights over the crowd begin dimming.
“Okay. Twelve songs, then two encore songs,” Sue says. I nod. “And no running to your dressing room after. Mingle. It looks good. You are doing very well tonight. They love you. They adore you. Let them see you.” She pats me on the shoulders. Turning me toward the stage, she squeezes my shoulders.
Trevor, the drummer, takes the stage as the lights turn on, flooding the floor with purple lighting. He beats the drums, and I can feel the pounding in my chest as Jeff and Todd take the stage. Dean finishes the backing band, strumming on his bass.
The crowd screams my name. “Abbey, Abbey, Abbey.” They chant, like a symphony.
“Go. Break a leg.” Sue mumbles as she gives me a small push towards the stage.
I walk onto the stage as the backing band starts the beat to my opening song, “Queens.” My eyes take a moment to adjustto the lights as I walk up to the mic. I look out into the crowd as their voices rise, each chant gaining decimals. Louder and louder it goes until my eardrums feel like they will explode.
As I look out at the crowd, feeling the beat of the drum in my feet and the strum of the guitars and bass start to drown out the chants, I remember this place is my home. This is what I was born to do. I was born to sing, and I’m pretty fucking great at it, too.
And so, I open my mouth and sing.
two
I walkoff stage after my two-song encore and Sue is there. She hands me a cold water bottle and a towel. Wiping the sweat off my forehead, I take a sip of water. It instantly cools down my body temperature.
“You did great.” Sue only ever sings my praise before and after I take the stage. Not even she can deny that I have talent out there. “Bathroom break? Then mingle. There is an after-party going onKey Failures’bus. You should go.” Her voice drips with authority as she leads me to the dressing room. She opens the door for me, walking towards the bathroom. I wait as she unlocks the door and holds it open. “Stay at least an hour. It will look good.”
“Which one isKey Failures?” I ask as I sit and pee.
“The opening band.” She responds. She doesn’t watch as I pee. She just stands at the door. It’s still embarrassing, though. I hate being treated like a child. “Liam, Skylar, Kevin, Frank, and Oscar. You met them the first night. Skylar is pretty cute. Wouldn’t be bad to try that avenue.”
“I don’t want a boyfriend.” I say plainly, wiping and flushing.
I stare into the toilet, the urge to throw up almost overwhelming me. I wonder what Sue would do if I pushedmy fingers down my throat right now and threw up. Hell, I’ve consumed so much liquid recently that it wouldn’t even be so bad.
I’d probably end up being committed, though. They would surely put me on a conservatorship or drop me altogether.
It doesn’t help that my stomach twists at the thought of another boyfriend. I’m always being pushed into relationships. I’m always being set up with the biggest jerks on the planet. They always end up cheating on me, or worse. They just want the chance to say they fucked the great Abbey Dark.
“Being single is worse. The media is always in a frenzy when you aren’t in a relationship, linking you to a bunch of different guys. It would also help with the whole Tyler thing.” She adds. I’m still standing, staring into the toilet. “Let’s go.” She finally says, probably knowing what I’m thinking.
I wash my hands and touch up my makeup in the mirror.
I pull out my vial and do a small bump. The vial was still about halfway full, but I’m starting to worry about it lasting me the rest of the night. And how I would sneak away to do some during the after-party.
“There are sure to be more party favors on the bus.” She adds, as if reading my mind. “Don’t do anything crazy. Be careful not to drink too much. No throwing up. And use a condom.” Her voice lecturing, she puts her hands on my shoulders, looking into my eyes. “Stay at least an hour.”
“Okay.”
“I will have a sandwich waiting for you when you get back and a Xanax.”
“Okay.” I say softly. The threat of a sandwich is enough to get me to stay longer than an hour. Sue did not play fair. I would stay out as long as possible in hopes that Sue would be asleep when I got back. She gives me a knowing smile, like she knows exactly what I’m thinking.
“Try to have fun. You’re only 23.”
