Page 44 of Bring Me Home

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By the interval, I’d been to the toilet four times. I noticed Anthony Bray glance my way at one point, and I wondered if he considered me rude for walking out repeatedly during the support act’s performance, but it would’ve been ruder to piss on the floor. Usually, peeing often, although annoying, made me happy. It meant the pounds were dropping off. That didn’t seem likely tonight, though. If my diet and I had been tagged in a Facebook relationship I would’ve switched it to it’s complicated. Tonight, I blamed the cocktail of champagne and anticipation for irritating my bladder.

There was a perceptible shift in the atmosphere when Hugo’s time arrived. The act before him had been great; I’d enjoyed her sound, but this felt different. There was an energy in the dark air. A collective rush. Indescribable. Breathtaking. A spotlight rose slowly from the floor, ascending to the stage like the rising sun…and then I saw him.

“How are we doing tonight?” Hugo called into the microphone. He looked magnificent. A complete showman, dressed in a sparkling silver suit with ruched sleeves, his head adorned with a crown of tall white feathers. My eyes refused to leave him, weren’t distracted by the lights, the crowd, the band. I could only see him. He looked so small standing there, in the centre of such a huge stage. “Thank you all so much for coming out tonight. Are we ready to have some fun?”

Thousands rose from their seats, even Chrissie beside me…but I couldn’t move. Even when the drumbeats kicked in and the arena descended into a giant disco pit, people dancing, singing, having the night of their lives, all I could do was stare. He looked so comfortable out there. He owned the stage, danced across every inch of it. His voice commanded the air, demanded your attention while he gave himself over to you.

As the evening progressed, my appreciation for this man could only grow. His talent was raw: natural, not taught. He’d have given up rather than risk sounding manufactured, I knew he would. It made the words he delivered authentic, made you believe they came from experience, that he’d plucked them right from his chest. Hugo sang with pure, visceral emotion, not technical perfection. Sometimes, a lyric would crack as it left his lips and it only added more power, more honesty. The Hugo out there was the Hugo I knew. He sang his truths on that stage. He had fun, made people laugh...and cry. He frolicked, he waved, he smiled.

That smile, the way one side of his mouth would curl slightly higher than the other. It was my favourite sight in the world.

“This has been one of the best nights of my life,” Chrissie shouted, mopping the dampness from her forehead on the back of her hand while the rest of the arena yelled, ‘More! More!’ in unison.

I couldn’t disagree, and the VIP treatment had been only a miniscule part of it that would soon fade from my mind. The rest, watching Hugo perform, seeing him the happiest I’d ever seen him…I’d never forget that.

A tap on my shoulder made me jump. Clamping a hand to my chest to prevent my heart leaping from it, I turned in my seat. “Oh. Hey,” I said upon seeing that manager lady from earlier. I’d forgotten her name.

“Aimee. Hey,” Chrissie said.

Aimee. Right.

“Hugo wants you to come side stage for the last song.”

“Oh.” I’d sounded like I was auditioning for the frigging opera. “Right, um, okay.” Shit. I felt scared. No idea why. “My friend can come, too, right?”

Aimee nodded. “Sure, no problem. Need to be quick though.”

We gathered our handbags and followed Aimee out of the box. She took us along the same corridor I’d been down several times before, but then steered us through a locked door that she opened with a swipe of a card. Holy shit. We were in the land of legitimate famous people now. I couldn’t help imagining how many stars had walked over this same floor, wonder what they’d thought while looking at these same colourless walls.

At the end of the corridor, we descended a flight of stairs and headed up yet another corridor. The place was a maze. Eventually, we ended up in a dark area filled with all kinds of wires and technical looking stuff. I was afraid to move in case I snagged something.

I hadn’t expected Hugo to be here too and when arms snuck around my waist from behind, my instinctive reaction was to slap them. And squeal like a frightened pig.

“Sorry,” he said. Lied, rather. If he was sorry, he wouldn’t have been laughing. “I’m glad you’re here.”

I spun around to face him, cupped his cheeks and planted a firm kiss on his lips. A friend kiss, nothing more. A kiss bursting with pride and love. “You were incredible out there.”


Tags: Nicola Haken Billionaire Romance