I manage a weak, “Thank you.” My eyes fall from his and glance out over the ocean. I inhale a deep breath of salty air then look up at Fletcher. “Thank you for everything. All of this.” I slip my hand free and place it over his chest. “And this.”
Fletcher lifts my fingers to his lips. “I’d give you the whole world if I could. You are my everything.” He nods to the officiant. “Are you ready to become my wife?”
“I’ve been ready since the day we met.”
Twenty Seven
Oliver
“Apollo, my man, how you doin’?” I high-five the boy I met at the gas station.
He’s all smiles and fidgety. “Awesome. I’m doing awesome. Th-thank you for the tickets.”
“No sweat. Glad you could make it. Nice to see you again, sir.” I hold my hand out to Apollo’s dad.
He gladly takes it, offering his name. “Jeremiah. And this is my wife, Samantha.”
I see now where Apollo gets his infectious smile, and his good looks. His mother is beautiful, in a simple way. No makeup, no frills, just naturally gorgeous without even trying. “Thank you so much. This is all Apollo’s been talking about.”
I take her hand and kiss her knuckles, shooting Jeremiah a you’re-one-lucky-sonofabitch wink “It’s my pleasure.”
“You’re more than welcome to stay here until the show starts. Watch us warm up, yeah?”
Apollo’s head is bobbing up and down. It’s cute how excited and nervous he is. He’s looking around to everyone in the room, taking it all in. When the guys stroll in, they introduce themselves.
“Whazzup, li’l dude.” Nash smashes knuckles with him before putting his earbuds in and grabbing his drumsticks.
Luna waves her fingers as she walks by Apollo then takes a seat on the edge of a table, staying close to Nash.
Hamlin passes Apollo with a, “Good to meet ya, buddy,” and a slap of his palm.
I grab my guitar and begin to pick at the strings to warm up my fingers. Nash is beating the table Luna is sitting on with his sticks, and Hamlin starts a run. Nash and I chime in, doing vocal exercises to warm up our voices. The room echoes with our vibratos and the beat my guitar and Nash’s sticks are carrying. We’re handed bottles of water to lubricate our throats and then told it’s show time.
Waving Apollo over, I rest my hand on his shoulder as I walk him and his family out of the room. “You ready?”
“Yep!” His voice hints enthusiasm, but his body language is rigid.
I stop in the middle of the hallway, grab both his shoulders, and shake him lightly. “Dude, loosen up. We’re gonna blow the shirt right off your back.”
Apollo wiggles his whole body to release the nerves. “I’m loose. I’m ready.”
We continue to walk until we’re at the entrance of the arena, and I have to shout over the loud screams for Apollo to hear me. “Thata, boy. Now, get out to your seat and have a good time. See ya after the show.”
Apollo follows his parents then looks back at me, tossing up his two thumbs. I do the same then wave him into the dark arena, the only light coming from the flashlight of the seating attendant. I watch them until they are swallowed by the darkness then lead the guys up the stairs at side stage.
We take our places; Hamlin at his keyboard, Nash at his drums, and me behind the mic. It’s the first show in a while I feel weightless. My head is clear, I’m focused. I’m ready. Ready to light this motherfucker up like it’s the Fourth of July.
The first chord is synchronized perfectly with the arena lights coming to life. The stadium explodes with strobes and cheering fans. Sober, this is the best feeling in the world. The outside world ceases to exist during the hour and half we’re playing. It’s just us and the music. Our screaming fans and swaying lights. I’m not even hatin’ missing the era of lighters. When those phones are raised and rock side to side, the love I feel from the seats is overwhelming. To think, people who do not know me, paid money to come see us play. Milo Creed and The Gentlemen’s Club. It’s surreal, and I’ve been taking it all for granted. But not tonight. I glance down to see Apollo in the front row. His arms are above his head and he’s jumping up and down. His whole body is reacting to our music, which makes me play harder and louder. The way his parents watch him watching me gets me pumped, and after the third song, I’m grabbing the mic to holler, “What’s up, Kansas City! How’s everyone doin’ tonight?”
I wait for the screams to die down and laugh when I catch Apollo covering his ears with his hands. “We have a very special guest with us tonight, and I wanna bring him up on stage.”
Apollo’s looking around, waiting to see who gets to be called on, stumped when I point in his direction and say, “Apollo, get your ass up here.” I wave at security, who help Jeremiah lift Apollo over the safety rail. As they escort Apollo to the stairs, I tell the crowd, “This here is my buddy, Apollo. We met a few days back at a gas station. This guy right here…” I tuck him into my side and wrap my arm around his shoulder. “He’s something special.” The stadium explodes and I have to shush the noise before I can continue. “Apollo told me he’s learning to play the guitar.” I wave at a stagehand, who brings out one of my guitars. “Know how to play any of our songs, Apollo?”
His head snaps up to look at me, shocked, and he nods slowly.
I hand him my guitar. “Sweet. You pick it, we rock it.”
Apollo skims the front row until he finds his parents. They are clapping and calling out his name, looking up at him like he’s the star he, unbeknownst to him, is. Cautiously, Apollo slips the strap over his head and gates his legs to carry the weight of the guitar then looks up at me, a new swagger in his nod. “Battle.”
Of all the songs, he picks the one with the most intricate guitar solo. Ballsy. I dig it. With a wink, I begin the song, Apollo following my lead. He doesn’t lose a beat, his body rocking in tempo. He follows me around the stage as if it’s his to own. When it’s time for the guitar solo that carries the song to its end, I stop playing and give him his time to shine. He shreds it and the fans soak it all up. And my mouth falls open, in shock.
Apollo is so engrossed in his solo he never opens his eyes. Not once does he look down at the guitar like most amateurs would. He plays hard without a single mistake, and when his solo is finished and the song stops, the whole arena goes silent for a complete three seconds before erupting into the loudest, echoing scream I have ever heard.
I clap my hands and full-belly laugh, shaking Apollo’s shoulders with excitement. “Dude, they’ve never screamed this loud for me. You’re a badass.” I take back the guitar Apollo is holding out to me and give it to the stagehand. “You fuckin’ killed it.” I high-five Apollo, grabbing his hand and pulling him into a hug. I swing him around until we’re both dizzy then set him down, shouting into the mic, “Give it up for Apollo!”
There is a split second where I think I’ll end tonight’s show with “In My Blood,” but change it up, singing “Carnival,” the song I sang to Piper the night she came to our show. Depressing? Maybe. But it’s our own. Besides, I’ve been avoiding it since singing it to her. Tonight, I’m ready to get back on track with my music…my life.
We bust out signatures and photos like a boss, mainly because I’d rather hang out with Apollo. The guys were still talking about his rad solo on the way to the dressing room where Apollo and his parents have been patiently waiting while we finish the last few people.
“Apollo, my man.” Nash pounds knuckles with him. “Dude, you rocked it better than shitface over here.” He tosses a thumb in my direction.
I shake my head. “Watch your language, you idiot. He’s only a kid.”
Nash laughs. “Shut your piehole. You were cussing the whole time.”
Samantha chimes in, “I’ll let it slide. Just for tonight.” She winks, then points a finger at Apollo. “Don’t you even think about repeating any of it either, you got me?”
Apollo agrees, his head bobbing like a bobblehead.
I w
ave an assistant over and whisper in her ear, and when she returns with what I asked for, I grab a Sharpie and sign the guitar Apollo played during the show. After having the guys sign it, I hold it out to Apollo. “For you, li’l buddy.”
His eyes light up and he swipes at them with the back of his hands. Jeremiah nudges Apollo in the arm, nodding for him to accept our gift to him. “Thank you.” His young voice cracks.
“Yeah, man. You crushed it out there. You’re gonna be a star.”
Apollo hugs the guitar, continuing to wipe his tearing eyes. He’s trying to hold in his emotions, but his mom starts bawling, hugging Hamlin, Nash, and then me. “Thank you so much.”
“How about one more song before we go, yeah?” I ask. “We don’t have our instruments, so it’s gonna have to be you who carries us. You up for it?”
“Yep.” Apollo straightens his back and nods.
I wave the guys over, circling around Apollo. “What song do you want to play this time?”
“Um, I know it’s not yours, but do you know ‘Little Wing’ by Jimi Hendrix?” Apollo asks, nervous.
Clearing my throat, I say, “Yeah, yeah, of course we know that song.” I rub the back of my neck, reminded of my little bird. It doesn’t matter what song it is, somehow, someway, it will always lead my mind back to Piper. “Let’s do it.”
Goddamn, this kid is brilliant. What ten-year-old knows Jimi Hendrix? And what ten-year-old can play the fuck out of a Jimi Hendrix song? Then to pick “Little Wing,” one of the most beautiful pieces Hendrix ever wrote? I’m dumbfounded with this kid’s talent. And so is everyone else in the room, who stops what they are doing to watch us sing along to Apollo’s guitar playing. His fingers play the piece like water flows through a stream, slow and steady. Graceful.
I’m dazed, enamored with what Apollo is putting down. I must be hallucinating. It’s a mirage…my mind playing tricks on me. Goosebumps crawl over my skin and my heart pounds in my chest. I don’t know why I’m getting anxious. I’m not really seeing Piper in the doorway of the dressing room. My eyes dart around the room to see if anyone else sees her, but Apollo has them in a trance, and when I look back towards the door, it’s just a door.
The mere thought of Piper glitches my nerves, but the illusion of seeing her sets me back a whole step. I hold myself together long enough to finish out the song and say goodbye to Apollo. “Any time you can come to a show, there will be tickets waiting for you. It’s been an absolute honor to play with you, my man.” I shake his hand then give him a hug.
After a round of pictures, we part ways, heading back to the bus. I walk behind Nash, Luna, and Hamlin, keeping to myself and staying quiet. My chest is hollow, all good vibes from today disappearing. I’m so numb I almost don’t hear my name being called. Caught inside my head, I almost miss Luna spinning around and running past me, knocking into my arm as she’s yelling, “Piper!”
Twenty Eight
Piper
The room was full of people standing and staring at the boy playing the guitar. I, too, was mesmerized, but then Oliver glanced my way and I panicked, ducking out of sight. He saw me, I’m sure of it, but it wasn’t the time nor place to be waltzing in like nothing ever happened. Besides, I didn’t want to interrupt the moment Oliver was sharing with the young boy. I decided to wait outside by the tour bus, and when they exited the arena and started to walk towards me, I hid behind a tree. I didn’t think I would be this nervous, but I have a lot of explaining to do and I’m terrified Luna and Oliver will never forgive me.
I poke my head around the tree as they pass. “Oliver.” My voice is weak and hardly audible. “Oliver.” I try again, but my emotions get the better of me. I clear my throat. “Oliver.” Either Oliver is ignoring me or he can’t hear. But Luna does.
She spins fast on the balls of her feet, her eyes drawn to me. There is no hesitation as she runs at me, nearly knocking me over as she grabs me, hugging me like I’ve risen from the dead and if she lets go I’ll vanish again. Luna’s sobbing, so I’m sobbing, and when she pulls back to look at me, making sure it’s really me, she starts slapping me all over with flimsy opened palms. “Where did— How did— How dare you not call! Where the hell have you been? Do you know how worried sick we’ve all been?” She takes the fabric of my shirt and tightens her fists around it, shaking me like I’m a ragdoll. Then stops. “Are you okay? Did that fucker hurt you?” Luna steps back and pushes her sleeves up her forearms like she’s ready to throw punches. “I’m gonna kill…”
“Fletcher didn’t hurt me, Luna. I’m fine. Promise.” I look around Luna at the guys. Nash and Hamlin are eyeing me like I’m the devil and Oliver is staring at the toe of his shoe, kicking at a weed sprouting up from between the cracks in the concrete. His hands are stuffed deep into his pockets. “Oliver?” The sound of his name from my lips has him turning away from me, walking toward the bus and taking Nash and Hamlin with him. My head falls, tears slipping down my cheeks.
Luna wraps her arms around me. “It has been a rough week, Pipe.”
“How bad?” I tread cautiously.
“Real bad.”
My head sinks lower and a blubbering whimper escapes my throat. When I brave looking up, the guys are gone.
Luna takes my arm and rests her head on my shoulder, walking me to the bus.
I stop before the stairs. “I don’t think I’m welcomed on the bus, Lune.”
She lifts her head to look at me. “Of course you are.”
“The hell she is.” Oliver’s voice emerges from the darkness. He comes around the nose of the bus and glares at me. “She’s not welcomed.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Oliver. Piper is getting on this bus and we’re going to hear where she’s been for the last five days.”
Luna starts to nudge me up the stairs, but I lock my legs. “It’s fine, Luna, really. I’ll meet you at home, okay?”
“It’s certainly not okay, Piper. You’re coming with us and that is final.”
Arms crossed over his chest, Oliver stands firm. “You’re welcome to come, but she-devil here isn’t getting on this bus.”
I try to pry my hand out of Luna’s, but she clamps down harder. “I’m not leaving my sister, Oliver. She’s coming with us,” Luna argues.
“Luna, please. Let go,” I plea.
Oliver glares at me and I cower into myself. “Yeah, Luna, let go. She wants to go home, where she belongs.”
Luna locks our elbows together like standing in a united front will change Oliver’s mind. “Fuck you, Oliver.”
“Suit yourselves then, both your asses can stay here.” Oliver clips the tip of his nose with his thumb and takes a step, blocking the door.
Luna’s seething. Her hot temper is about to surface and Oliver is in the line of fire. “Stop being a dick!” She shoves Oliver square in the chest, causing him to stumble back on his feet.
A swift grab of my hand and Luna is dragging me toward the door, but before we can climb the stairs to the motorhome, Oliver grabs the back of my shirt and yanks me away from the bus. Luna pulls me one way while Oliver tugs me the other, playing tug-o-war using me as the rope.
“Guys,” I say. “Hey!”
Simultaneously they let go. The bag across my body acts like a weight and I lose my footing, and I fall forward. It happens so fast my arms aren’t quick enough to break my fall. There’s a crack and a splintering pain before my vision is flecked with brilliant white stars followed by pure blackness.
I open my eyes, swiping my hand across my face to stop Luna from smacking me in the cheek. “For crying out loud, Luna. Stop.”
“Are you okay?” She helps me sit up and scrunches her face. “Fuck.”
Warm liquid drips down my face as I sit up, but the movement is too fast and I begin spinning, forgetting about whatever is sliding down my cheek. I brace myself by grabbing Luna’s shoulders, but when I gag against my stomach threatening to empty in my lap, Luna scoots back and I fall to the side.
“Jesus, Luna.” Oliver
drops to a knee to catch me. With one hand, he removes his shirt and holds it over my face.
“I don’t want her barfing on me, God. Anyway, this is all your fault, asshole.” She points a finger in his face.
Oliver snorts, holding me upright while holding pressure over my throbbing nose. He’s talking to Luna while looking at me. “This isn’t my fault, it’s yours. Had you listened, her face wouldn’t look like someone took a bat to her nose.”
“Wha—what?” My hands come up to touch my face, but Oliver pushes them down.
“Don’t touch.” He stands and hoists me up with one hand, not letting go of the shirt over my face or me until he knows I’m steady on my feet. “You gotta take her to the emergency room, Luna.”
“Why? What happened?” I ask. If the pain is any indication of what my face looks like, I’m in trouble.
I really know something is wrong when Nash pokes his head out of the door. “What’s going on out here? What was that—?” he begins to ask, but sees me and jerks back, covering his mouth with his hand. “Whoa, what the fuck happened to your—?”
“Nothing. Nothing is wrong with her face. She just smacked her head and is wobbly on her feet so Luna is going to take her to the ER to have her checked out,” Oliver cuts him off.
“That’s what that noise was? Your face hitting—?” Nash continues.
But Oliver shuts him up. “Dude, shut the fuck up.”
“Oh, I’m not taking her by myself, Oliver. I don’t know my way around here and I don’t know if it’s safe in this neighborhood. This was your fault. Your ass is going.” Luna is swiping at her phone and adds, “Looks like the ER is in walking distance. That way, let’s go.”
By the time we make it to the emergency room, I’m ready to puke and pass out. Which will come first I don’t know, but I’m afraid we may just find out as my knees give out. Oliver holds me up while Luna runs in and grabs a wheelchair, picking me up at the curb to push me in the rest of the way. My head weighs a hundred pounds on my neck and the only thing keeping it from hanging off my shoulders is Oliver holding his shirt over my nose.
Carnival Page 15
