One Night With a Rock Star

by Chana Keefer

  I tried to act interested but my flip-flopping stomach would never make room for it.

  Jeremiah once again popped from behind the table and stepped forward with a cricket he had just discovered. I didn’t reward him with the proper fear. Raised in the country with two brothers? Forget it. Marti’s shriek, on the other hand, thrilled him.

  I was, however, surprised by an arm that draped across my shoulders as someone WAY inside my comfort zone said, “Sky, Ya haven’t introduced ya friend.”

  Jake Hargrave, Sky’s famous Australian drummer, grinned as he pulled me close with eyes that looked me over—everywhere except the face.

  “You don’t need an introduction.” I put on my professional persona—the one honed in countless modeling interviews where I had to fake it—and slipped from under his arm. “You’re Jake Hargrave and, according to my little brother, you’re the greatest drummer in the world. I’m Esther.” I took his hand in a firm grip. “Pleased to meet you.”

  I chatted about how John would set up his CD player next to his drum set, put on his headphones and match Jake’s drumming stroke for stroke. “You’re his idol.”

  “Well you can tell him… he has impeccable taste.” Jake puffed out his chest and struck a proud pose.

  “In fact,” I added, “he would kill me if I got outa here without your autograph. Do ya mind?”

  Jake shrugged his consent and I reached into the backpack for my journal. Flipping past riveting accounts of college life I came to the few clean pages at the back of the book and handed it to him. I felt more comfortable now that both his hands were occupied.

  I turned to Sky with a smile and found him watching, very still, almost matching to a T the poster in my room. Wow. Much better in person. To cover for the heat that rose to my cheeks I said, “You forever have the gratitude of my sixteen-year-old brother.”

  “Mr. Hargrave here is having the time of his life.” Sky gave Jake’s back a hard slap that sent Jake’s pen scrawling across the page. “There’s nothing he enjoys more than discussing his favorite topic; himself.”

  The other guys jeered as Jake winked and shot back, “Sky’s just jealous that ya asked me to sign yuh book and not him. Ya know how these rock stars are; pure ego.”

  “Well,” I added, “only the biggest stars are included in this book, like that sidewalk in Hollywood.”

  “I’m a livin’ legend, mon!” Adam Griggs broke in. “Where do I sign?”

  “No man,” cut in Les James, “what’s legend is how an old guy like you can stand for an entire concert.’”

  “Ee’s always been jealous because I’m so much prettiuh dan heem.” Adam flashed a wide grin, complete with two gold teeth. With his short dreadlocks and hyena laugh, he seemed more fitted for piracy than music.

  “Oh no,” cut in Jake, “We must give credit where credit is due. What did they say in that Magazine? ‘No matter how old the wood is,’” he channeled Joan Rivers, “‘Sky is gonna light yore fire!’”

  The others clapped and whistled as Adam gyrated toward Sky, “Come on! Light it up, Sexy Mon!”

  Sky grabbed Adam in a headlock.

  Chloe rolled her eyes and stepped out of the room.

  Jeremiah launched himself onto Adam’s back as the scene deteriorated into a playground brawl.

  In the middle of the mayhem, Wally entered and observed with a bored expression as Adam yelled, “Let go of my hair you leettle !%#+!”

  Laughing, I rushed to untangle Jeremiah from Adam’s locks. Suddenly, hands grasped my ribs.

  All I can say regarding the following moment is that instinct from twenty years with two tormenting brothers took over. When I was seven, my big brother Landon had tickled me until I wet myself. I cried, but I also beat the tar out of him. Ever after, he referred to that as the day he unleashed “the beast.”

  The hands at my ribs brought it all back and “the beast” took over. I swung back a lethal elbow, heard a loud “Oof” as it connected with somebody’s gut then stomped down hard on the nearest foot. Whew! The ribs were free.

  The room erupted with laughter and I turned to discover Sky clutching his side while hopping on one foot.

  I froze as the guys around us guffawed. “Ohmigod!” Adam exclaimed in high-pitched hilarity, “She took you down!” He pulled a small book out of his pocket and held it out toward me. “You are my hero! Sign here.”

  As I received slaps on the back, I took a peek at Sky to discover, with relief, he too was laughing.

  Sky glanced up with a grimace. “Guess that should teach me not to mess with Texas.”

  There was more laughter and jeers about Sky’s manhood as Wally broke in.

  “I need everyone in twenty!” he shouted.

  Jake dabbed at the side of his mouth. “Mummy? I have a boo-boo.”

  Wally ignored him. “Playtime’s over kiddies. Cauldron is done. It’s contest winners, then us.”

  He turned to go but caught my eye and winked. As he walked away, his shoulders shook with laughter.

  The guys slipped into performance mode, the smooth routine of countless concerts. Adam warbled some vocals while Jake tapped drumsticks on a round rubber pad. The rest, including Sky, flowed around and away like leaves on a river.

  Marti and I shared a resigned shrug and moved to join the current.

  “Hey!” Jeremiah raced up. “Don’t forget this.” He reached toward Marti who opened her hand (duh) then screamed when he dropped his cricket pal into it. “See ya later!” he yelled as he ran away laughing.

  Marti was still gasping and exclaiming about “that stinker” as we headed down the emptying hallway.

  “Hey!” Sky was suddenly beside me, “See you after? Great.” He squeezed my elbow and rushed through the curtain into backstage craziness as I stood blinking and gaping.

  As we stopped by the ladies’ room, Marti was quiet.

  “He obviously likes you.” She smoothed my curls that had escaped during the scuffle and met my eye in the mirror. “He wants to see you after the show,” she sang, but there was worry in her eyes.

  “Can’t imagine why.”

  “No, you probably can’t.” She stopped to give my reflection a hard stare. “Just promise me you won’t be alone with him and you won’t let him take you anywhere, okay?”

  “Come on, I’m not stupid.”

  “About him? Yes you are.”

  I wanted to argue, but she had a point.

  The arena was a writhing mass of humans stretching up into the “nosebleed” sections. I had been to a few concerts, but certainly nothing of this magnitude and the butterflies in my stomach made me wonder how it must feel to perform for such huge crowds. Did Sky ever get nervous?

  The lights went down and Marti gripped my hand with a little squeak as the crowd roared. Little pinpoints of light could be seen onstage as band members got into position. The audience broke into more applause, cheers and whistles. Most of the folks were already on their feet without a single note having been played.

  Marti and I stepped up on our chairs to see over those on their chairs in front of us as the excitement built. Strong spotlights moved among the frenzied crowd as Jake began a tribal beat and a lone dancer in full African princess regalia appeared stage left and several lights zoomed to her. Her joyful, liquid motions, as multi-colored lights flashed, made my heart leap as more dancers made their way through the aisles to join her. I recognized Andrea, with her burnished, middle eastern skin and glossy black hair dancing in the spotlight to my right as a male dancer, muscles rippling, lifted her high over his head with one arm and ran into the shadows. The others swarmed the stage in orchestrated confusion as the excitement reached a fever pitch.

  One by one they raced away and all was plunged into darkness for a split second until Sky’s voice broke the silence with the opening notes of “Mesmerize” and the lights swirled in trancelike patterns. With a flash, one of the long swirls of fabric was hit with a backlight, revealing Sky’s silhouette. His voice was drow
ned in the crowd’s deafening roar.

  When he stepped out to full view, a hush fell.

  Though I had been devoted to his music for years, the power of Sky’s live performance caught me off-guard. My mind struggled with the fact that I had just won a wrestling match with this man who now moved about the monstrous stage taking command of the thousands swaying at his feet.

  I relaxed, allowing myself to drown in the music. Several of his earliest hits were included along with releases from his current project. I knew every word to every one. The entire audience was on its feet, singing and jostling to the beat. I rode the waves of his voice as I drank in and stored every sight and sound.

  I was lost in the hypnotic, Mediterranean flow of “Changeling,” an instrumental featuring Isaac Germany on classical guitar during one of the few moments the crowd sat to enjoy a calmer mood. I noticed a security guard pointing my way and motioning for me to slip out of the row. I met Marti’s questioning eyes with a clueless shrug and proceeded to work my way to the aisle.

  The nagging fear of discovery welled up causing me to ask, “Is everything alright?” He motioned for me to follow and led the way to the back of the stage where a small staircase disappeared into the shadows.

  The guard pointed at them so, I gathered the heavy folds of velvet a little higher in one hand and, with the other, took his outstretched fingers to steady my climb.

  Another hand extended from the shadows of the curtain as the lights brightened just enough for me to see Wally’s face in the gloom.

  “What’s going on?” I whispered as he led me behind the curtain.

  Rather than answer, he began to check my appearance, making minute adjustments to my hair and straightening the folds of my gown. When he was satisfied, he pulled me to the edge of the stage where Isaac sat on a lone stool.

  The curtain pulled aside and Sky was there, placing an arm around my waist and moving toward the bright lights beyond the curtain.

  I hesitated, shock paralyzing body and mind.

  He took my chin in his hand and whispered, “Look into my eyes. Forget everything else.”

  That, at least, was easy. I felt a strange calm descend as I gazed up at him and felt us begin to move.

  If music and dance had a powerful effect on me, the addition of Sky gazing into my soul created the perfect triple threat. As the glowing colors changed with the chords of the music and the movement of our feet, he led me in a simple, repeated pattern with a slight salsa influence, coaxing me to match the graceful sway. The beauty of the moment tore at my heart and I felt a tear roll down my cheek.

  One thing I knew for sure, if ever I was diagnosed with a terminal illness, no one would have to scramble to make my heart’s desire come true. I was living it.

  With a pang of disappointment, I recognized the final bars of the song. Sky smiled and moved his hand in a circular motion, indicating another round. There was a cheer and spattering of applause that turned to laughter as Adam yelled, “Light that fire, sexy mon!” Sky pulled me closer for a tight spin that would have taken my breath away—if I had remembered to breathe. The heavy velvet flared out behind. I think I would have taken flight without its weight holding me down.

  For a brief moment, even the sound of the song ceased and I was aware of nothing but… him; the pressure of his hand on the small of my back, the heat of his body, the way his eyes roved over my face with a gentle gaze that felt like a caress. I forgot the crowd. I forgot my feet. There was only Sky; his palm against mine, the ripple of his shoulder under my fingers, the blue-gray of his eyes, and the thrumming guitar’s magnetic pull between us.

  Our feet slowed and stopped but still he didn’t look away. Sky’s grip on my hand tightened and he pulled me closer. His expression changed from joy to excitement to sadness so quickly I was left reeling and confused. It was only a split second, like a mask had slipped aside, but just as quickly he pasted on a smile and took a step back. With his fingers barely touching mine he swept a hand to the applauding audience and I felt compelled to curtsey.

  The crowd roared their approval and I turned to Sky expecting him to release my hand or lead me back to the curtains, but instead he pulled me to him saying, “Shall we give them what they want?”

  I froze. Perhaps it was childish, but I had felt a real connection with him as we danced and I rebelled at the thought of turning it into mere performance.

  I felt the weight of every eye in that arena fixed on me like the crosshairs of a riflescope as Sky’s mouth aimed for mine. At the last second I turned so he brushed my cheek with an awkward peck. It hurt that he looked a bit perturbed… and the light “boos” and “oohs” from the audience didn’t help.

  Sky escorted me back to the dimness of the swaying curtains where I was once again handed over toWally. And that was that. It was an abrupt ending to the most magical moment of my life—a moment I had the distinct impression I had somehow flubbed.

  As my eyes adjusted to the gloom, Wally’s face came into focus.

  “Was that your idea?” I asked him as my heart continued to race.

  “No,” he replied. “He asked my opinion, and I gave it.”

  “Well anyway, thank you.” I gave him a hug and was surprised when he held on a moment, bringing to mind my big brother’s unexpected affection when he left home for college. When Wally pulled back, he mumbled what sounded like “good girl” before depositing me in a nearby chair and returning to his duties.

  It felt good to hide in the shadows for a moment after my unexpected and confusing walk on the moon. But the lure of the music was too great so, as the entire stadium partied to the reggae nonsense of “My Luna C,” I snuck back to the place where Jeremiah and I had watched the sound check.

  That man in the corner keeps staring at me.

  He’s been there for days now, though no one else sees

  I’d tell him to beat it but then where’d I be?

  Just me and my Luna C

  Somehow I couldn’t dwell on my sophomoric reaction to the attempted kiss as I laughed at Adam, dreadlocks swinging as he managed to dance, play keyboards and provide comical background vocals.

  Got a snug white suit; it’s just my size

  Don’t have to wear no coat and tie

  Three meals a day I don’t have to buy

  Yes, Luna C suits me.

  Know I should get outa this joint

  But it’s pleasant here so what’s the point?

  Don’t look at me in that tone of voice

  My Luna C suits me… just fine

  More ballads, more flashing lights and pounding rhythm, more fans crowding the stage, hands upraised as if in worship. I was lost in the enormity of it all, swept along with the rest, experiencing the magic of his talent—when it happened.

  Sky was in the middle of, “Only One,” a haunting story of love and loss that had reduced me to tears the first time I heard it. When he came to the bridge, the lights overhead spread into an ever-widening circle until I was bathed in an intermittent searchlight. Sky saw me.

  It was just a look, but it felt like a bolt of lightning. I wanted to be cool, to gaze back like the girls always did when Elvis sang to them, but when those eyes looked directly at me and Sky’s brows raised in an unmistakable “come hither” manner, the very look I’d always dreamed of, I knew one thing for sure.

  I was in deep trouble.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  I flushed with heat and looked down.

  I could feel it. He was still looking. Two seconds became an eternity.

  Don’t look up, don’t look… oh man. His eyes were a searchlight and I was exposed—a silly little girl with a little girl’s crush. No finesse. No polish. Just a quivering mound of black-velvet immaturity.

  Finally the lights changed. I was in darkness again and the brightness lit the upturned faces on the first few rows. There was Marti, eyes aglow, enraptured like everyone else.

  A cluster of squealing females pushed forward and a lacy bra landed on the s
tage at Sky’s feet. He picked it up and, with a laugh, hung it on the neck of his guitar as the crowd roared.

  Ew.

  I watched him feeding on their adoration—even encouraging it. What man wouldn’t love gorgeous females tossing lingerie at him? But the bubble of infatuation had sprung a leak. The perfect man of my dreams would have been too poetic to display undergarments.

  Big shock. Sky wasn’t perfect.

  Then a stream of some sort of liquid hit him square in the face, perhaps a well-aimed soda. Security was already on it, wrestling a guy out of the arena with the girl who had thrown the bra trailing behind. Hmmm. The act of a jealous boyfriend?

  With a look of anger, Sky wiped his face and kept singing.

  His was a harsh world. Revered one moment and used for target practice the next. I don’t know if it was empathy or shock, but I was sick to my stomach.

  With the closing notes of “Backfire” the band left the stage as the crowd worked up the demand with lighters held aloft like stars throughout the darkened auditorium. Backstage, a couple ladies rushed toward Sky, tools in hand for a quick touch-up on the rock god, but he ignored them and strode to the restroom. There were a few worried looks, the crowd was going crazy, but in a moment he came out of the restroom, soiled shirt in his hand, and submitted to their ministrations; a drink, a new shirt, touch-ups to the hair, but Sky looked thunderous. I wouldn’t have wanted their job.

  The band filed back to their places as if coerced by mob rule and the stadium lights morphed to an undulating blue glow against the flowing curtains.

  A haunting melody on a Scottish reed pipe quieted the mood. Sky timed his entrance to coincide with Jake’s shaker adding rhythm to the melancholy. Making his way to a large pillar candle on a sconce at center stage, Sky lit the candle and sat on a stool behind the microphone, as the band flowed into “Soulfull.”

  “Over the hills to new horizons,

  I fly free… ”

  The blend of sights and sounds filled the arena and the fans grew still. It was as if the soda-throwing incident had never occurred as Sky once more worked his magic.