by Cari Quinn
“I know this is a little different than the normal fan club event. This has been a year of shakeups, so what’s one more, right?”
I tried to ignore the camera guy who was filming off to the side. There was a big difference from the roving cameras that put our faces on the screens for the arena and the recording that would be going live in the fan club group. The entire thing wouldn’t be streamed—that wouldn’t be fair to those who paid for their tickets. But I wanted to include them as a perk.
The band had been all for it. We’d always been forward thinking when it came to technology. Jamie and Lindsey had done more than a few live jam sessions in the forums.
I waved at the camera. “Hope the feed is okay out there.” I sat down at my piano and tucked my microphone into the long-armed stand beside me. “So, my family has called me the human jukebox for as long as I can remember. I play like six different instruments. Put something in my hands, and I’ll learn to play it.”
I nodded to the saxophone in its stand. “My mom used to listen to an artist named Candy Dulfer, and I decided to learn her most famous song for her birthday present.” I laughed. “I see a few blank faces. It was the nineties. I won’t hold it against you.”
I reached for the sax and picked it up with trembling fingers. “Normally, I’d need a bit of a guitar accompaniment to make it work, but you might know the song.” The sad notes of “Lily Was Here” filled the arena.
There were a few sparks of recognition, but the camera phones were up and filming. I played half the song before I let it peter out to become the signature song from the soap opera General Hospital. That brought out a lot more laughter and cheers.
I tucked the sax back into the stand with a laugh. “Thanks for indulging me. Sometimes you just gotta do stuff for your mom.” I looked over at Bailey. “Now because I’m a dork and I love the jukebox thing. I’m going to use Bailey to help me. She’s going to play MC to this impromptu version of that game Rockstar.” I dropped my voice. “Aka karaoke. I’m taking requests.”
I sat at my piano and played the opening chords to “Stripped Away” and the laughter turned to whoops. “So, you know that one. How about a deep cut?” I changed to “Waiting” from the first album.
A group of girls in the back immediately started singing the song. I smiled and leaned into my mic to help them out. By the end of the song, everyone was singing. “Little bit of trivia. I have lots of trivia since we’re stuck on a bus or a plane for a lot of hours between shows.”
“We want to know it all,” came a voice from the left.
“Well, I only have an hour.”
“We’ll let you go longer!”
I waved to the girl with space buns at the end of the first row. “Come on, you know you want to see Lindsey and Jamie.”
“We’re good.”
I laughed. “Anyway, so you know we’re music junkies just as much as you guys. Maybe even more. And we have tons of inspiration. Well, the story goes that Jamie gave Lindsey crap about playing this one song over and over by a band named Lifehouse.” My fingers sought out the keys to the sweeping and sad song, “Broken”.
It just happened to be one of my favorites, as well. All the longing and the fissures of emotion thanks to life and broken hearts. Finding meaning in something bigger than yourself.
As the last notes of the song faded, I glanced at the small crowd, ready to see bored faces.
Instead, almost everyone had their phones up.
Bailey was sitting at the edge of the second row with her fingers wrapped so tightly around the mic.
“Okay, I had my fun. How about you guys give me a song?”
“Can you sing anything?” Came a voice from the back.
“Jukebox, remember.” I moved my hands down the keys and started singing “Stockholm Syndrome” from One Direction.
A girl on the left side squeaked. And just like that the entirety of the crowd, even a few of the guys, all joined in.
I laughed. “I don’t know about you, but I wouldn’t mind a little time with Harry Styles in a locked room.”
“Girl, yes!”
From then the madcap circle of songs went from Evanescence, Lana Del Ray, Stevie Nicks, Radiohead, and Lizzo. Even Bailey got into the fun, running around and between the aisles with the microphone for those who didn’t just shout out their requests.
The hour went by in a blink. “Okay, guys. One more.”
“What’s your favorite song?”
I sat for a moment, with my hands on the keys. “It’s a little bit older. Not as old as ‘Lily Was Here’ though.” A few people laughed. “While my songs are ever changing, this one resonates.”
It was more of a guitar song, but Taylor Swift was very easy to translate to piano. Most of her songs had that component to them. And this one fit me down to the ground right now.
I let the crash of the piano fill the arena as the song built, and I sang my heart out about the freefall of love. Of the seasons and the changes and the colors of that particular emotion.
The quiet part of “Red” in the middle left me breathless all of a sudden. I glanced up the stairs and saw a form in the shadows. My heart jumped, and a chill raced down my spine, and then I saw the familiar rugged jawline and I couldn’t stop the smile. He edged out of the shadows, his hands in his pockets.
I sang the lyrics to him. Because he made me feel all of those feelings and all the colors, especially red. The passion between us burned hot and fiercely.
Thank God.
The slow and breathy end was just for him before I turned back to the fans I was supposed to be singing to. Whoops.
A couple of people had turned in their chairs to see who I’d been looking at, but Cooper was too good at the whole sneaky thing. He melted away into the pocket of darkness.
To bring the crowd’s attention back, I stood and crossed to sit at the edge of the stage. I fixed my skirt, so I wasn’t flashing anyone. “Thanks so much for coming guys. This was a ton of fun. I wasn’t sure if you’d be into it.”
“Every show,” someone called out.
“I can guarantee that our security peeps would literally faint at the thought of doing this all the time. But we can make it a yearly thing for sure. Maybe I can even get some help next time. If you think I’m a jukebox, you should see Jamie. That girl knows every song.”
I caught Noah’s head nod and gave a playful pout. “Speaking of security, I’m getting the old hook from the manager types.”
Cole came out and helped me down.
“At least they’re gentlemanly. Bailey is going to bring you back and get some food while the rest of the band arrives and we set up for rehearsal. Don’t forget to bring your dog or cat item to the show tomorrow for a chance to win front row seats. Food and kitty litter is definitely the most wanted. We’ll be donating to the local animal shelters.” I waved. “Thanks, guys.”
My heart was racing with happiness. From singing to Cooper, from the bit of success on my own.
And for not freaking flopping in front of a bunch of people.
I stopped at Bailey and drew her in for a hug. “You did amazing.”
“I was so nervous, but you made it so fun. God, my phone is exploding with all the tweets, posts, TikToks—it’s crazy. It’s all anyone has been talking about.”
“Guess I gotta get the band to do some thinking.”
“Definitely.” She fixed her glasses, and then stared at her shoes. “Is Zane okay? I saw some news things.”
“I can’t really talk about it.”
“Oh, no. I don’t want details. I mean, I know some—uh, saw some stuff. Just, you know, making sure he’s okay.” She started braiding her hair again. “It’s none of my business.”
I took her hand. “He’s good. I promise.”
Relief washed over her face, and her shoulders eased. “Thanks. I feel like I know you guys and that was scary stuff. A lot of us were worried.” She cleared her throat. “Online, of course.”
“A
nd we really appreciate it.”
She nodded and played with her hair again before knotting her fingers together. “I’ll go take care of everyone.”
“Thanks again, Bailey.”
“Sure. Of course.” Then she was gone, and Noah was guiding me to the dressing room area where the rest of the band had convened.
“What the hell, High Tea?” Jamie barked at me as soon as I opened the door.
“What?” My stomach dropped. “Did something happen?”
James lifted her ever-present acoustic off her lap and set it on the couch. “Yeah, you showed us up. How the hell are we supposed to top that now?”
I hid a smile and went to sit next to Cooper. “I think they had a good time.”
Zane came over to sit at my feet. “Girl, you’re trending.”
“What?” I snatched his phone.
“All sorts of vids are popping up,” Jamie came over to sit next to me. She swung one of her mile-long legs over mine and leaned back into the corner of the couch. “Nice job. I don’t want to say we phone it in when we do those things, but I sure as shit don’t get that invested. I’d rather be on stage for real.”
Lindsey rolled her eyes. “Effusive as always, Jame. It was really amazing, Teagan. Now we’re going to have to talk about what we can do in the future. My brain is exploding with ideas.”
“I feel that this will be bad for me,” Oz muttered. “You’re going to make me work and shit.”
Lindz gave him a bland look. “Heaven forbid.”
He sprawled out on the battered couch against the wall, and then dumped Daisy into his lap. “There’s only one kind of work I like lately.”
Zane threw a paper cup at him. “Enough, man. You couldn’t even come up for air to help a guy out.”
Oz ducked his head and buried it in Daisy’s hair. “Save me, sprite.”
She elbowed him and moved to sit on the couch beside him. “Not saving you, pal.”
I leaned into Cooper, grinning up at him before I glanced back at Lindsey. “I’d love to brainstorm some more things.”
Cooper lightly traced the side of my thigh. “It was amazing. We could hear you when we came in. I had to go check it out.”
I blushed. “Thanks.”
So much of that last song had been about him. And knowing he’d been right there to hear it made me feel like my emotions were on display.
But then there wasn’t any time to be embarrassed. We had a show to do.
Even the abbreviated show felt like a big deal. The first bit of normalcy in our chaotic world.
Jamie and Lindsey had their heads together while Zane and Oz were giving each other shit, as usual. I was pretty sure the comment about his bail was mostly teasing, but men could be just as passive-aggressive as women.
Cooper and I wound out pinkies together before splitting off to get to our own places on the stage. Our crew was a miracle. My piano was already set on the stage with Lindsey’s Baby Grand facing the other direction. When we had the stage availability, we both liked for our pianos to be ready.
The crowd for the rehearsal portion of the fan club event was triple the amount of people who had come to mine. They hollered when we came out from the side of the stage. Jamie, being her usual clown self, ran to the middle and did a cartwheel. “So much stage.”
Lindsey rolled her eyes as she moved next to me. “Pretty sure she hasn’t aged past fourteen.”
“In horny factor, as well.”
“That is the truth. So, I was just talking to James. I think we’re going to end the rehearsal with ‘The Show Must Go On’. What do you think?”
“Oh, wow.” I pulled out my bench and sat before I fell down. It was one of my all-time favorite songs. “Are you serious?”
“Well, now that you went big, we gotta finish big, right?”
I looked down at my keys. “I didn’t mean to overstep.”
“Teagan. Honestly, I love that you did. It means you’re finally feeling at home.”
“I do.” I gripped her hand. “I promise I do.”
“I know, but there’s always a little bit of holding back. I hope you don’t feel like you have to anymore. There’s room for everyone in our spotlight, okay?”
My eyes stung, but I nodded. “Yeah. Thanks, Lindsey.”
She pulled me in for a quick hug before turning on that insanely bright light that lived inside her. Lindsey was a born frontwoman. While I loved playing with the intimate crowd, I truly loved being part of the ensemble. I didn’t want all the pressure that sat so regally on her shoulders.
Cooper stood behind his kit and gave me a look. I shook my head and winked at him. The crinkles were back at the corners of his eyes as he slapped the skins loudly enough that Jamie whirled around.
“All right, Tarzan.”
“That’s Oz, not me,” Cooper shouted back.
Oz shook his hair back. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
The abbreviated crowd soaked it all up. They were hungry for what took place on stage. Signs and T-shirts announced their favorites as well as screams and screeches of varying octaves. Pretty sure one girl in the back was going to break glass.
Oz soaked it up and Jamie in her ultra-cool fashion didn’t seem to notice it once her guitar was over her shoulder. We tore through our standard opening song, “Judgement”, which lit the crowd into a frenzy. It was always our opener and brewed the excitement until it was a nice, slow simmer.
From the low-key start to the epic end, Lindsey let her voice rip. She didn’t hold back like we did in our usual rehearsal. She usually saved her voice for the show, but since we had a night of rest before tomorrow’s actual show, she went for full range.
Fans turned dreamy-eyed as camera phones were lifted and the murmurs of excitement slid into a sing-along.
Lindsey stalked the stage and touched each of us to form that connection she was so good at fostering before she returned her attention to the fans and ended the song with a note that made everyone push forward to get closer.
We exploded through the shortened set list. We played two songs that only true fans would appreciate and that gave us a little extra practice since they didn’t come off the shelf too often.
Once we’d reached the end, we were all sweating as much as if it was a real show. Lindsey slung her arm around Jamie’s neck. “Cover?”
Jamie gave her an exaggerated side-eye. “Which one?”
“Hmm.” Lindsey touched her cheek with one long, glitter-tipped finger. “Neil Diamond?”
Jamie wrinkled her nose. “Not tonight. Maybe later.”
Oz came forward with his heavy bass. “How about…ID?” He turned to Cooper. “Yeah?”
Cooper slapped his sticks hard and they bounced up with a double flip before he snatched them out of the air and the bass-heavy “Radioactive” reverberated through the mostly empty arena.
“Wait a minute.” I stood up on my bench. “There is no way we’re doing that song without a houseful of people.”
Oz’s hair fell forward as he pouted.
Lindsey came around to her piano, and I stepped up to my other keyboard rig where I could pull other instruments in with electronic magic. Her voice was bright and true. Freddie Mercury would be proud of the range and the epic scope of her performance.
I moved back to my piano as the guitar solo for “The Show Must Go On” became one layer on another as Jamie and Zane put their own spin on Brian May’s intricate guitar style. My wrists sang with the force of my fingers on the keys as I raced with them and got caught up in the theater of the song.
Then Lindsey took center stage and fell to her denim-clad knees. She was a cone of starlight with her glittery blond curls flowing behind her and her back arched to give it all. She held the last note and it seemed to go on and on.
Jamie was bent over her guitar, her flame-licked black hair curtained around her face as her fingers tore up and down the fret board. She was the fire to Lindsey’s ice. They were yin and yang in t
he best possible way on stage.
The crowd screamed as loudly as an arena full of people as we brought the song to a close.
I was laughing when Lindsey turned and beckoned me forward. I ran to my family and clasped hands with Jamie, and then Cooper flanked my other side so we could do our bows.
Because the fans were right there, and the excitement was still vibrating through the room, we started signing anything they put in front of us.
Selfies and vids and tears were plentiful. By the time we finished, every fan got their signature or special moment because I was almost certain none of us wanted the night to end either.
Finally, we waved our goodbyes and promised the audience a matching show tomorrow night.
I grinned as the tension I’d carried in my shoulders for days eased. No matter what we had to face in this crazy world we lived in, the show would go on. Today had proved that.
Not just for the band but for me too.
Twenty-Three
Time on the road meant very little. Traveling on the bus made the passage of time even less obvious. It took me back to the earlier days of touring, though that bus was very different than the rolling palace we had now. But the sense of family was stronger than ever.
I doubted there were other tour buses like ours. Well, Ripper buses anyway.
Warning Sign needed just as much space as we did. While their danger level didn’t seem to be the same as ours right now, they’d had their fair share of tragedy in the past. Their band’s painful history didn’t help our situation either. Security seemed to always be looming around all of us like a black cloud, just far enough in the distance that we kept trying to outrun the storm.
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been trapped with the band for this long. As the tours grew in size, so did our spaces. Buses had become planes and hotel rooms. And while I had always appreciated being on my own between shows, I couldn’t say I hated this new life.
Maybe it was the way we were gelling, or maybe it was just because I was a besotted idiot. But instead of going to our separate rooms after a show, we ended up congregating in the large living space below.
