We start practice, and Alec and I sing a love song to each other, but I look over at Felix and he’s smiling.
I’m glad he knows I mean it for him.
Twenty-three
Felix
Two days later, while we’re setting up for the concert, Jenna catches me staring out at the stadium of empty seats. There are thousands of them—far more than any place I’ve ever performed. Jenna walks up behind me and stands a few feet away, which feels odd, though not as awful as it did when I wasn’t allowed to touch her at all.
“Nervous?” Jenna asks.
“I never get nervous,” I say. “I played Carnegie Hall once, with some people from Juilliard. I wasn’t nervous.”
“But you are now.”
A part of me wishes she couldn’t see it, but most of me is glad she can. I don’t want to hide anything from her. The irony of that isn’t lost on me, but what I said to Gabby was true. Before I tell Jenna everything, I have to be completely sure I’m not going to get high if she rejects me.
I want to be sure right now, but I’m not, which is just as well, because even if there is a perfect time to tell her everything, it sure as hell isn’t right before we go up on stage. It’s only going to get more complicated, though. We drove separately, which gave me the chance to take off early and hit a meeting without having to explain myself, but there’s only so long I can go without telling her about the meetings and the meds and the therapy.
Talking to her that first night together, even in such vague terms, about being lost, and the drugs, and the stuff that made me feel like a terrible person—it felt so good, like stretching out after a long, cramped flight. And Jenna’s been great about everything I’ve told her. I’m starting to believe she could actually hear the whole truth and still want me.
We’re going to make it. I can feel it.
“I’ve never performed anything I’ve practiced so little,” I say.
“You’ve been practicing like crazy.”
“And yet, still true.”
Jenna lets out a small laugh, and I don’t look at her. I don’t want anyone getting one of those pictures Alec was talking about, with us looking at each other the way we do.
“You won’t be able to see them,” Jenna says. “Not really. It’ll start to get dark while the warm-up bands are still playing, and by the time we’re into our second set, all you’ll see are the lights.”
“We’ll be able to hear them.”
“Yeah. But they’ll be cheering. Someone with an ego as big as yours has to enjoy that, right?”
I break down and smile at her. She grins back. “That’s what I thought.”
“It’s just different,” I say. “In orchestra, everything is scripted down to the second. There’s a conductor to glare at you if you’re not doing everything absolutely perfect.”
Jenna nods. “This isn’t like that. But you have the set list. You know what we’re playing and when. And the rest of it, you can just follow our lead. Alec and I will work the crowd. You just smile and play.”
“The smiling part I can handle.”
Jenna hesitates, and then she steps forward and pats me on the shoulder. There are techs in the scaffolding above us working on the lights, and sound people checking the mics on stage, but none of them look askance at us. Jenna pulls her hand back before it looks like anything more than a friendly slap. “If there’s one thing I’m sure you can do,” she says. “It’s play.”
I bite back about ten different remarks about how familiar I know she is with the way I like to play.
And then Alec comes bounding across the stage. We haven’t hit costumes and makeup yet, so his hair is washed but not styled, as per Allison’s instructions. Instead of pulled back and slicked with gel, it rests loosely around his face, which makes him look . . . nicer. Or maybe that’s the grin.
I’ve never seen Alec grin.
“Is everybody ready to rock?” Alec asks, in what I can only assume is his stage voice. Roxie whoops from behind the drum set—literally behind it, where she’s kneeling and adjusting the stands.
“Technically,” Jenna says, “we still have a lot to do before we’re ready.”
Alec’s smile doesn’t slip. He points to his temple. “I’m talking about up here. The body achieves what the mind believes.”
At this point I’m wondering if Alec has some twin brother I don’t know about. One who is happier and far more enthusiastic. And prone to speaking in motivational-poster slogans.
Jenna rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling. “I got you that cheesy inspirational-quote-a-day calendar as a joke.”
Alec laughs. “Yeah, well, just like those big-ass marquee letters in the house, I guess the joke’s on you, babe.” Then he grabs her by the waist and spins her around, and for such a round gesture it feels unreasonably pointed. At me.
Fortunately I’m spared any further exposure to the new-and-improved Alec when Allison calls me back to wardrobe. I change into my costume, which is just as Jenna described: a tight pair of True Religion jeans and a Henley t-shirt in the same blue as my eyes. I tried them on for Allison yesterday, and I like it.
Alec may be hotter, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to look like I can compete.
I’m sat down in a chair and my hair is fawned over by a cosmetologist named Lindley, who styles my hair to look more or less like it usually does, but without the ability to move a single strand out of place. Then she puts makeup on me, and I’m not sure how girls make it look so easy to sit through that. My cheeks twitch and my eyes water and from the look of Leo when she finishes with him, she more or less gave up halfway through.
Jenna’s still in makeup, and I’m herded back to the stage where I can either chill in the green room—with Alec—or stand up near the edge of the stage with Leo and Roxie and listen to the warm-up acts. I choose the latter. We’re carefully hidden behind the wings, and Roxie and Leo take advantage of this by dancing, grinding against each other so hard that it’s a wonder Leo’s leather pants don’t catch fire.
I try not to listen to the cheers from the crowd, which grow louder as our call time nears. Those people out there are in love with AJ. They’re here not just for the music, but to bask in the glow of this couple they idolize—transfixed, as Jenna puts it, by the story.
None of them know it—thank god—but I’m a threat to that story. I’m the opposite of what they want for Jenna. I’m worried about how they’ll feel about me replacing Mason, but if they knew anything about what was actually going on, they’d drag me off the stage and dismember me before security knew it was happening.
My mind freezes. We haven’t played together nearly enough. I might not blend. The crowd might hate me. They might all know, the way Alec and Leo and Roxie all did. Looking at each other the way you do.
I have a good stage face. I’m a damned good flirt, which is much of what stage presence is—you flirt with the room, you smile like you know you’ve got it, and if you do, then the crowd smiles right along with you.
But I’ve always been a cocky bastard, so I’ve never had to get up on stage and pretend to be something I’m not. And even though I got tickets for Gabby and Will and Anna-Marie and her fiancé, Josh, that’s only four people in my corner out of thousands. And that’s if Anna-Marie isn’t still pissed at me for that time she thought I stole her shoes.
Jenna finishes with makeup—hers taking the longest—and joins us. She’s in this short skirt that’s tight around the waist and flares out over layers of black tulle, and long lace-up boots that go over her knees. Her hair sparkles as if it’s been misted with glitter—which, given the various spray bottles Lindley possessed, I don’t doubt it has. She looks stunning and sexy and ready to own the stage and everyone out there. She glances at Roxie and Leo and gives me a knowing look. Here in the darkness of the wings, we smile at each other.
It
doesn’t wipe away my nerves, but it damn well helps.
And then, before I’m even close to ready, Alec comes up from the green room in artfully ripped dark jeans and a black leather vest over a white t-shirt. His hair is loose still, but definitely styled. Phil looks up from the phone that seems permanently affixed to his hand and points us toward the stage. Jenna and Alec take the lead, walking confidently hand-in-hand, and I forget to hate it as my stomach crawls up into my throat. I follow Leo and keep my head up. The sun has set but it isn’t completely dark, and even through the lights, I can see the roiling movements of masses of people who are screaming as Jenna and Alec walk to the front of the proscenium, waving and grinning and grabbing their mics.
“How is everybody feeling tonight!” Alec shouts, and the roar is deafening. Leo and Roxie are half waving and half surreptitiously readying their instruments, so I do the same.
“Thank you, Los Angeles!” Jenna shouts. “We’re happy to see you, too.” She blows the crowd a kiss and then turns and directs one at Alec, and somehow the screams grow louder. I check my mic and run a quick tune check while Jenna and Alec work up the crowd and introduce the local backup musicians who will be filling in on keyboard and guitar while Alec and Jenna are singing to each other and the crowd.
And then Jenna spins around and points right at me. “Let me introduce you to someone we’re thrilled to have with us. Our new cellist, Felix Mays!”
The crowd cheers, louder than for the backup musicians, but naturally not as loud as they did for Alec or Jenna. I smile and wave, and Jenna grins at me. And then she turns around and adopts a coy stance in Alec’s direction. “What do you think, babe? Should we give them a show?”
“I don’t know,” Alec says. “Is that what they’re here for?”
The crowd gives their loudest scream yet, and Jenna laughs. “I know what they’re really here to see.” She leans up on the toes of her tall black boots and kisses Alec. A cheer swells from the crowd, and I smile like I’m supposed to.
It’s not as difficult to watch as I thought it would be. It’s not real. I woke up with the real Jenna this morning and I’ll be falling asleep with her tonight. Stage Jenna is pieces of the girl I love, but more carefully edited and with the volume turned all the way up. Everything from the slant of her lips to the sway of her walk is exaggerated and obviously carefully controlled. She’s a natural with the crowd, and they love her. It’s a wonder they can hear anything past the first few words she says, what with the cheers and the screams. Maybe they can’t, but they love it anyway.
And even though she’s bantering with her ex right in front of me, I can’t help but love it right along with them.
Then Jenna points to Roxie, who counts off and begins the first song.
I’m not sure if Jenna planned it this way—I’m damn sure Alec didn’t—but the first song has a cello part I could play in my sleep. It’s fast but the range is small, which gives me a chance to adjust before we launch into some of the songs where I need to step it up a bit. Jenna’s voice sounds even more beautiful on stage, and she sings with all her heart, and I can tell the audience feels it. They respond to her banter with Alec, yes, but also to the story she’s telling.
I can’t get enough of that story, because even if Alec is acting the part, I believe her when she says that it’s all about her and me.
Near the middle of the set, there’s a piece Mason wrote where the cello takes over the melody for the bridge and plays this haunting counterpoint to the harmony of the piano and the bass guitar. It’s my favorite part of the show, and when we get there, I forget about the audience, I forget to be nervous, and I play it for Jenna with all the presence of my twelve years of musicianship.
When the song ends, the crowd cheers, and Jenna turns to face the crowd, taps one toe behind her, and gestures to me. “Felix Mays, everyone!” she yells, and the cheering grows.
Jenna waves her hand, motioning for them to cheer louder, higher, and they follow her lead. The roar is deafening. When they don’t quiet immediately, Jenna grins at me.
I grin back. We’ve won them over, for the moment at least.
I set down my bow, stand, and offer my most formal cellist’s bow. I’ve done this a hundred times in front of very different audiences, and I don’t at all know how this one will react, but it’s the best way I know how to show my appreciation.
The whistles and screams and cheers continue. I stand and wave and try to look through the bright lights at the audience.
Damn, if I couldn’t get used to this.
I’ve always loved to perform. I love the energy of a good audience, the feeling of completion after long hours of practice. As we finish the set, I’m proud to be here with Jenna, finishing my first concert as a member of the band.
And then Alec steps up to the edge of the stage and raises his mic. “We have one more song for you tonight—” he waits out the chorus of boos that follow this statement— “but before we go, I’ve got something to say, and I hope you all will humor me.” The crowd goes quiet, waiting, and Alec turns to look at Jenna.
She’s smiling, but it’s more tentative now, and I realize she doesn’t know what he’s about to say. Something about that makes my chest tighten.
“Actually,” Alec says, winking at the audience. “It’s more of a question.”
Jenna’s eyes widen. My ribs squeeze in on my lungs like a twenty-foot anaconda.
And then out of his pocket, Alec pulls a ring box, and opens it to reveal the biggest diamond I’ve ever seen outside of a glass case. It’s even bigger than the giant rock Josh gave to Anna-Marie on that talk show where they spilled their side of the story about what happened with Shane. Much like Josh did, Alec drops to one knee and gives a dramatic pause, in which the audience gasps. Jenna’s face has gone pale and terrified, even as she smiles through it. She gives the crowd a panicked look, and I can tell she’s leaning into what she’s really feeling while trying to keep her cool in front of her fans.
I want to punch Alec. I envision her slapping his face.
“Jenna Rollins,” he says. “Will you marry me?”
The crowd is cheering and screaming and wailing but I can hardly hear them. Alec’s words echo in my mind. Jenna Rollins, will you marry me?
My throat goes dry, and I stare at Jenna, but she doesn’t spare me a single glance.
She can’t. I know she can’t. This isn’t real. It isn’t. No more than any of the rest of the show, all of which didn’t seem as terrible as I’d feared. I try to keep my face neutral, like maybe I was in on it, like maybe I had a fucking clue Alec was planning to propose on stage to my girlfriend without fucking warning her first.
“Oh my god.” Jenna takes a deep breath, and presses a trembling hand to her lips, and disappears beneath the cover of Stage Jenna again. “Oh my god, yes!”
My throat closes up and sweat beads on my forehead and while that could be due to the hot lights, I’m sure I’m not looking even the least bit happy and I’m praying that every last damn camera in the stadium is capturing only the look on Jenna’s face as she pulls Alec to his feet and jumps into his arms. Alec is grinning, and now I have an inkling about why he was so happy before the show. He had a plan. He was going to regain control. And while he can’t think for a moment that Jenna is actually going to marry him, the fact that he didn’t warn her about this is evidence of how he means it.
It’s a warning. A threat. A slap to the face—both to her and to me. A reminder that he’s the one the fans want her with. She can’t just walk away from him without walking away from all of it.
Will you marry me?
Jenna still hasn’t looked at me, and I take a long drink from my water bottle and try not to heave it back up. Leo and Roxie are both casting me worried looks, and I force myself to clap my hands and cheer along with the rest of the crowd. Leo and Roxie follow. And then Alec pulls away from Jenna’s
embrace.
“We’ve got one more song for you tonight,” he says, smiling with his very best lovable, sweep-her-off-her-feet grin. I want to wrap my hands around his neck.
God, how are we going to get out of this gracefully now?
Jenna is beaming, the picture of joy, and my stomach twists and I can’t help but wish she was looking that way for me. I look down at the last song on the set list, and I know Alec must have put it there. It’s a ballad where Alec does most of the singing, all about his deep love for her, and how being with her has saved him from a lifetime of misery, and he’ll never be the same.
He starts to sing, and Jenna flashes the ring at the crowd and manages to summon some tears, which probably isn’t a far reach, and I hate Alec all the more. He sings to the girl I love while I play the backup harmony, and neither of them looks back at me. Not even once. At the end of the song, Jenna leaps into his arms again, and he lifts her off the stage, and my eyes unfocus. I can’t see this. I can’t watch anymore. The rest of their goodbyes to their audience blur, and then the set is over.
When we get off the stage, Jenna turns and finally looks at me. Stage Jenna has made way for Real Jenna, and the horror on her face is enough to make me want to punch Alec all over again. I shake my head at her, hoping the distress on my face doesn’t look like anger.
I’m not mad at her. She had nothing to do with that. Alec’s power play had its intended effect. I’m a mess and she’s a mess and he’s had his revenge on us for daring to defy his goddamned rules.
We have to get out of the spotlight before we can figure out where the hell we’re going from here. We’re funneled off the stage and then on again for the pre-planned encore, and I keep my eyes down, focusing on the music, trying to ignore Alec and Jenna as they preen for the crowd as if they’re the happiest couple and they’re going to get married and make babies and he’s going to be Ty’s father when I know that even living in the house with the kid he doesn’t have a damn thing to do with his life. After the encore we’re off to publicity and I carefully keep both Leo and Roxie—both of whom could kick my ass—positioned between me and Jenna and Alec, her because I’m not sure I’ll be able to keep from taking her hand, and him because I really don’t want a stint in jail for choking Alec until his face is purple and his tongue is bloated in front of a crowd of cameras and reporters.
Everything We Are Page 21
