“Sure,” I answer.
When it comes to her, I’m not sure if I’m capable of saying no. I’ll follow wherever she leads.
And part of me—a large part of me—is enthused at the prospect. Onstage, I’m as close to seeing her weave magic as I thought I’d ever be. The prospect of standing next to her feels different. A way to share in the experience, not just observe it.
I’m consumed by thoughts—nerves—about the possibility as we arrive at the stage and run through sound check. As the show starts with a bang—literally.
She runs through the songs I know by heart. Knew by heart, even before I joined this tour.
Right when the audience would probably be requesting the unofficial encore—“Heartbreak for Two”—the stage lights change. They pulse and flash, sending shades of yellow, red, blue, pink, and green flickering across the stage and around the stadium. The colorful display ends, plummeting the stage into darkness. One spotlight appears in the center of the stage, right where the microphone is.
My cue.
Nerves ping around my insides.
Sutton steps forward, into the light. She grips the microphone, holding it close to her mouth so her voice echoes clearly across the entire assembled audience. “I’ve got a special treat for you all tonight. His name is Teddy, and we’re going to sing a cover for you tonight. How does that sound?”
Resounding cheers answer right as I step forward.
This feels like a dream.
Probably because it includes her.