by Renna Peak
“You coming or what?” Charlie calls to me.
“Coming!” I turn and follow the rest of my bandmates.
We end up finding a space backstage where we can run through our set a few times. Once they’ve finished setting up the lights, we’ll move onstage for the sound check and a final run-through, but for now, this is good enough.
I notice Rider and Charlie watching me as we set up. I’m surprised Rider doesn’t throw a few barbs my direction, but we’re hours away from our first show of the tour, and I know he’s as focused as the rest of us. Assuming I don’t fuck up any of our songs, I’m sure everything’s going to end up okay between us. We’re like brothers, the four of us. We’re used to dealing with each other’s shit now and again.
I still haven’t forgiven Charlie for bringing up my past in front of Sophia, but I’m willing to let it slide this time. There are more important things to focus on right now.
“You guys ready?” I ask when the guitars are tuned.
“Let’s do this,” Charlie says with a nod.
Jameson taps his drumsticks together, counting us down, and then we begin.
And we fucking rock it.
The energy of this place gets my head right back into the game, and I don’t miss a single chord or forget a single line. I’m focused. Part of the music. I’m exactly where I’m meant to be, doing exactly what I need to be doing.
It’s not until the second half of the set that I allow Sophia to creep back into my thoughts.
I’ll be writing songs about her one day, I find myself thinking. She’s only been in my life a couple of weeks, but she’s already made an impact—one that’s too intense not to immortalize in music. All this craziness would lend itself perfectly to a song. I can already feel the lyrics forming in my head, waiting to spill out.
By the time we’ve played through the entire set, I feel completely rejuvenated. The music, the venue, the inspiration building in my brain…all of it has combined to bring me back into myself.
“That was great,” Charlie says when the last chord has died away.
Even Rider looks begrudgingly excited. “If we play like that tonight, we’re going to blow them away.”
“Then we will,” I say. I crack a smile. “See? I’m fine. I just needed to get all the mistakes out of my system before we went up on stage.”
“If you say so,” Rider says with a snort. “I still say you let yourself get distracted.”
Before I can respond, Charlie cuts in. “That’s enough, you guys. Let’s not argue right before we go on. Obviously Pax has gotten his shit back together. That’s the important thing.”
He smiles at me, but I can see the warning in his eyes. This isn’t over yet—the guys still aren’t happy about this thing with Sophia, and they’ll be watching me. They won’t be as forgiving if I fuck up again. Or if having Sophia and Nicky and Victoria along on this tour drags us all down.
I’ve just got to stay on top of things, I tell myself. Easy peasy.
But judging by the last few weeks, I know that’s easier said than done.
Sophia
I’ve been dreading this day since I first found out about that blasted sex tape. I knew I’d have to deal with it eventually, and I suppose that Victoria is the best person I could talk to about it.
The ride to the hotel is awkwardly silent. Nicholas grumbles to himself every now and then—I suppose he’s still upset that I left this morning.
When we finally reach the hotel, Victoria is already prepared, and she leads us to a room near the top of the building.
“The band already had the penthouses booked.” She smiles over at me as we enter the room. “But this one isn’t so bad.”
She’s right. One wall of the suite is made of glass and overlooks the entire city.
Nicholas eyes me for a moment before shaking his head. “I’m going to go take a nap.” He turns his gaze to Victoria. “You’ll make sure she doesn’t run off again?”
Victoria gives him a single nod, and he turns to go into one of the bedrooms.
She motions for me to have a seat across from her in the sitting room.
I do as she asks, watching her take a pen and notebook from her bag. “You realize I am an adult.”
She smiles. “Was that a question? I thought I was the one doing the interviewing today.”
My jaw tightens—I can’t even respond. What is it about my family? Even Victoria can’t seem to grasp that I’m not the young child they think I am. And she’s only ever known me as an adult.
When I don’t answer her, her smile falls a bit. “I do realize you’re an adult, Sophia. It’s why I’m here. I’m going to do everything I can—”
“Why does anyone have to do anything? I’m not something to be…handled. I think I can manage on my own.”
She gives me a slight shake of her head. “I don’t think you’ve experienced anything like what’s about to come—”
“I’ve been dealing with the media my whole life. I think I can handle whatever they throw at me.”
“I know you think so. I really do.” She shakes her head again. “But even Leo hasn’t dealt with what’s coming your way. It’s a feeding frenzy, Sophia. As soon as they find you—and if you’re going to the concert tonight, they will find you—you’re not going to be able to shake them. They’re going to follow your every move, flash their cameras in your face—”
“Clearly, you’ve never seen what the paparazzi do in Paris. Or in London, for that matter.” It’s difficult not to roll my eyes. “Like I said, I’ve dealt with it all before.”
She gives me a tight-lipped smile, and blinks at me a few times. “Okay. We can discuss this later. You might have a better idea tomorrow—”
“Tomorrow, today…it doesn’t matter.” I shake my head. “I know I sound bratty, Victoria, but I’m tired of being treated like a naive child. Would we even be having this conversation if it weren’t for that damn sex tape?”
Her smile falls instantly to a frown. “No. We wouldn’t. I doubt your family would have been thrilled about you dating Pax Donovan, but we definitely wouldn’t be having the…difficulties we’re having now.”
“What difficulties?” I let out a long sigh. “The only people making this difficult are you and Nicholas. If you’d just leave well enough alone—”
“Can we talk about it? The sex tape?” She poises her pen above her notebook. “What was your first thought when you found out about it?”
“Really? That’s how you’re changing the subject?” I frown at her for a moment. “I was shocked. Horrified.” Perhaps if we talk about this now, she’ll get off my back about being with Pax—and perhaps if we can get this interview out of the way, she and Nicholas can allow Pax and me some time alone.
Ha. As if Nicholas is ever going to leave me alone with Pax.
“I can’t even imagine.” Her expression doesn’t change—Victoria may be my sister-in-law, but she’s still a master interviewer. “It was your first time with Pax. It must have felt—”
“It wasn’t our first time.” I can feel heat rising in my cheeks. I certainly don’t want to have this conversation—and perhaps not for the reasons I initially feared it. “I…we…”
She forces a smile. “You don’t have to give me the explicit details.” She scribbles something onto the paper before looking back up at me. “What did Pax say to you when you first found out about the tape?”
I frown, watching her for a moment. “Are you asking me this as my sister? Or to sell your stupid magazines?”
Victoria reaches out and pats my hand. “I’m just asking the questions that need answering, Sophia.” She gives me a small, sympathetic smile. “I’m sure Andrew will want to read whatever I write before it’s published. Honestly, under normal circumstances I’d never allow myself to be edited like that. But in this instance…”
I bite my lip, nodding at her. “I was…disappointed. I thought…I thought at first that he had made it and that someone had sto
len it. But it became clear very quickly that it wasn’t Pax who had made it.”
“And what did he say to you?”
“He…he told me it wasn’t him. His manager thought that I had made it—”
“Did you?”
“No.” I shake my head. “Of course not. Why would you even think that?”
“I don’t.” She tilts her head. “But I have to ask the question on the record.”
“Right.” My brow furrows. “Of course you do.”
“So tell me about that moment—the moment you found out.” She pats my hand again. “If people know what you were feeling, they’re much more likely to be sympathetic to you. If they can feel that…whatever it was you were feeling. Hurt. Angry. Betrayed—”
“Betrayed. Yes, I suppose I did feel that.” My hand instinctively covers my stomach. “It was…like nothing I’d ever experienced. I thought…I suppose I was also hurt. And very disappointed.”
“Disappointed?” She cocks her head again. “In what way?”
“Because…” I let out a long breath. “Because I liked him. I do like him. And I didn’t want to believe that someone I had that kind of connection with could do something like that. I mean, if you found out that Andrew had made a tape of the two of you and released it to the public—”
“Um, we’re not talking about me.” She forces another smile. “But I do know what you mean.” She nods, scribbling another note onto her paper. “And the two of you decided to stay together after the tape was released.”
“Was that a question?”
She writes something else in her notebook before looking up at me. “You’ve been together for almost two weeks now. That’s an actual relationship in Hollywood terms.”
I blink at her a few times. “That definitely was not a question.”
She smiles. “Do you consider what you have to be a relationship?”
“I…” I frown at her. “I don’t know.”
She nods, writing again in the notebook.
“I mean, I met his mother. And two of his sisters. I suppose…” I shake my head. “I don’t know. You’d have to ask Pax.”
“And what do you think he’d tell me?”
My brow furrows as I try to think of the answer. It certainly feels like we have a relationship when we’re together. And I can think of nothing else when we’re apart. But the truth is, I have no idea what Pax is feeling. He’s so closed off about his emotions—and whatever he’s hiding is almost certainly affecting his ability to commit to anything.
I don’t know. I don’t know how he feels at all.
Victoria gives me another of her tight-lipped smiles, almost as though she can read my mind. “You don’t have to answer—”
“I don’t know.” I shake my head. “I…I really don’t.”
But I suppose it’s time I find out before this goes much farther.
Pax
I should have trusted that everything would turn out okay. It always does. When it’s time to go on stage, to do the job I was born to do, everything else melts away. My mind settles. I feel completely at home in my body.
I’m not the only one who feels this way, either. I once heard Jameson compare performing to having a religious experience—it’s like your mind clears, and in those moments you see everything for what it is. Not good, not bad, just what it is. And you’re perfectly at peace with all of it.
Rider and Charlie are the opposite. They get hopped up on adrenaline before a show, bouncing around and fidgeting. Sometimes Rider even gets angry, but we all know how to deal with his shit by now. Charlie calls it “Rider’s Rage,” which makes Rider even more pissed, and once Mick even had to step in when Charlie wrote a cheesy little song about it and Rider was threatening to knock him unconscious. Fun times.
Rider’s bouncing on his heels now, though, with no sign of wanting to punch anyone. Charlie is fiddling with one of his strings. Jameson looks pretty damn zen.
From where we stand backstage, we can’t see the crowd, but we can hear them screaming and cheering. Our opening act—an up-and-coming rock duo called Menacing Joy—has just finished their set and are taking their final bow.
In the minutes that follow as the stage is rearranged for us, I take a few deep breaths. I’ve been preparing for this tour for a long time. Yes, our new album dropped last week, and the music is already out there in the world, but there’s a huge difference between knowing that people are listening to it somewhere and watching them react to it live. This is what my life is about.
I take another deep breath, letting my eyes close. For the first time in an hour, I let myself think of Sophia. I know she’ll be in the crowd tonight—I told Mick to make sure she got a front row pass—and I know I’ll be aware of her throughout the entire show. She’s seen part of our set already, but not the whole thing. And whether I want to admit it or not, her opinion of my music means something.
I open my eyes. A single blue-tinged light flicks on above the stage, and the crowd breaks into screams again.
That’s our cue.
My bandmates and I don’t even look at each other. We don’t need to. We fall right into step, striding out onto the stage.
I didn’t think it possible, but the moment the crowd sees us, their screams get even louder. A familiar rush fills me, and I raise my hand, greeting them. Rider practically bounces over to his spot on one side of me, Charlie on the other. Jameson ambles over to his place behind the drums.
My eyes scan the crowd. With all the lights flashing around the arena, all I can really see is a sea of bobbing heads and waving hands, rippling as people jump up and down. Small lights twinkle on and off across their surface—cell phones glowing and flashing as people record or photograph us. Only the first few rows of people are visible in any sort of detail. Most of the people up here against the stage are superfans, and they scream and reach toward me. One woman in a t-shirt from our very first tour is actually sobbing. The girl to her left has turned around to take a selfie with me and the guys in the background.
And then I spot the only girl I’m looking for. Sophia is at one end of the stage, and even though I asked Mick to get her the best seat in the house, I suspect it was her choice not to be front and center. She’s so calm compared to the screaming fans all around her, but her gaze is electric, even at this distance. I feel a jolt of energy move between us, and I suspect, in her own way, she’s cheering me on.
I feel a smile spread across my lips, and I tear my eyes away from her to look back at the crowd. I lean forward until my lips brush against my microphone.
Jameson was waiting for that subtle cue. He taps his sticks together twice, then we launch into our first song. An old favorite, our first hit single from three years ago.
And then the music takes over. There’s no need to think, only to feel. Any fears I had about fucking up again are out the window. This is my element, and on this stage, I am king.
We play two songs before we pause to say anything. I give the initial welcome to the crowd, then Rider and Charlie each have their own introductions between the next couple of songs. Like every band, each of us has our own little group of fans.
Jameson speaks last. Between the sixth and seventh songs of the night, he leans toward his mic and says, “Hey, guys. Thanks for coming out tonight.”
That’s all, and the cheers from the crowd are nearly deafening.
But this night is, first and foremost, about the music. And even though our new album only launched last week, I’m shocked by how many people seem to know our new songs, even well enough to sing along with us. The rush that filled me at the beginning of the show becomes a full-on high. I’m completely drunk on the feeling.
My eyes keep returning to Sophia. More than once, I catch her singing along like everyone else, but she always stops when she sees me watching her.
It’s not until we get to ‘The Lost Night’, though, that I notice a change in her. Or maybe she just notices the change in me. It’s impossible for me to
sing this song without some of the old memories rushing back, and I don’t try to fight the shadows. I’ve never felt as exposed as I do singing this song, but I know most people will never know the full truth. To them, it’s just another song, and a damn good one, too, if I’m allowed to say that.
Your soul slipped through my fingers,
and I lost my heart’s long fight.
Now you’re just a memory,
lost just like that night….
When I begin the chorus and my eyes drift back to Sophia, I find her staring at me intently. Even at this distance, I feel like her gaze is boring into me. She knows there’s more to this. She sees, on some level, what the rest of the crowd doesn’t.
I feel naked. Exposed.
My voice cracks. It’s the first time all night I’ve fallen out of the flow, the trance. But I keep going, and neither my bandmates nor the crowd seem to care that I’m sounding a little rough around the edges. If anything, the crowd seems even more into it. The rawness just adds to the performance.
But I don’t let myself look at Sophia again, not for the rest of the song or for any that come after. When we get to Crazy Little Drug, the plan is for me to pull a chick from the front row up on stage with us, and though my first thought is to go to Sophia, I decide against it. I don’t even look her way.
Don’t let yourself get distracted by her, I tell myself. The intensity of her stare has already thrown me off once, and I can’t risk it happening again. Besides, she probably wouldn’t want to be pulled up here anyway. She’s had too much publicity already. But I allow myself to briefly fantasize about having Sophia beside me on the stage, about having my arm around her waist and singing Crazy Little Drug to her in front of all these people, but I end up picking the young woman who was crying when we came out on stage. For a moment after I grab her hand, all the blood drains from the woman’s face and I’m afraid she’s going to pass out on me, but then she breaks into a huge smile. By the time the song is over, she’s completely blissed out, and I know she’ll carry this memory with her forever.
