Even in the dark, I saw his smirk, and it was deadly. For one long, crazy moment, I was caught up in him instead of thinking about heading on stage. Murray pulled me away toward the stage, and when the bright lights hit me, my world narrowed to my throne, my drums, my job. The roar of the crowd was background noise as I took my rightful place. My heart fluttered, but now it wasn’t from nerves; it was from knowing all the way to my marrow this was where I was meant to be.
It’s showtime. I’m Maeve motherfucking O’Day. Time to blow them all away.
My hands shook from pure adrenaline. Someone handed me a bottle of water, and I downed it in under a minute. Our dressing room was chaos, filled with reporters and pretty women. Yael grabbed me, pulling me into the corner opposite the bar.
“You looked overwhelmed,” she said.
My ears still roared. I blinked at her, let her words register, then smiled. “I am. So overwhelmed. Whoa.”
“You were incredible out there.”
I giggled and fell back in an overstuffed armchair. “I know, right?”
“Is it okay if I bring a couple reporters over? I’ll tell them they can only ask one or two questions.”
I wiped the sweat off my forehead with the back of my hand. “Sure. I can’t imagine why they’d want to talk to me, but I’ll try.”
While Yael went to grab reporters, Murray swung by, handing me a beer. We’d hugged for a solid minute when we got off stage, and he’d told me how proud he was of me.
“You’re hiding over here tonight?” he asked, sitting on the arm of my chair.
“For now. I need a timeout. You don’t have to babysit me. Go mingle. I know you want to.” Mo was already doing a good job mingling, if mingling meant letting pretty, overly-made-up girls cling to him.
Murray waggled his eyebrows. “If I can’t have the one I love, then I like to love the one I’m with.”
“In this instance, love equals no-strings attached sex, correct?”
He clutched imaginary pearls. “I’m scandalized. We read poetry and discuss Impressionism. How dare you.”
Laughing, I leaned my head against his arm. “Go away. I can’t handle you.”
Instead of leaving me all alone, Murray waited until Yael came back with two female reporters before scampering off to socialize.
Yael introduced me to the women. One worked at a Danish music magazine, the other reported for the arts section of Denmark’s biggest newspaper.
Magazine Reporter dove right in, asking where Diego was, and how the other band members, especially Santiago, felt about me replacing him. Luckily, I’d prepared myself for this. I had my answers locked and loaded.
“I’ve known these guys since I was a young teenager. Before I joined this band, we were really good friends. The transition has been easy for me, and I hope for them. They don’t have any trouble tellin’ me when I screw up, just like I don’t have a problem tellin’ them to shut up when they get annoying.” I winked, smiled, used my Debutante training. “As for Diego, he’s takin’ some time away from the spotlight. I just got started, have only had a tiny taste of the spotlight, but I can understand why he needed to step away. Since he’s not here, that’s all I want to say about him, other than he’s a great guy and an even better friend.”
Yael gave my shoulder a rub, and I turned to her, giving her a real smile. I caught sight of Santiago standing off to the side, clearly listening to my interview. He nodded, and I nodded back. Guess I passed the test.
The reporter from the newspaper asked me about being a woman in rock n’ roll, a topic I was much more comfortable discussing. I talked so much, I was pretty sure she stopped recording me somewhere in the middle, but I was hoping they’d use more quotes of me talking about rocker chicks than Diego.
Once that was done, I got up and went in search for a bathroom. My face felt gritty with dried sweat, and the beer had gone right through me.
I opened the door to the only bathroom in the dressing room, but closed it when I saw Mo’s ass as he pumped into a chick propped up on the sink. I could have gone the rest of my life without seeing that.
Sneaking out of the dressing room, I made my way down the hall. This time, I cracked the bathroom door, peeking in before I opened it all the way. The coast was clear, so I went inside and did my thing.
After I washed my hands, I splashed cold water onto my face, then used a paper towel to wipe away the ring of eyeliner from around my eyes. Looking in the mirror, I stopped breathing and stared at myself. A feeling of giddiness bubbled up from my chest, falling from my mouth in a loud laugh. This was pure, unadulterated happiness. I had no doubt, none at all, I’d remember this night for the rest of my life. There were highlights that would always stand out.
Mo scream-singing at me, despite him saying he wouldn’t. I’d even pretended to throw my stick at him, making him miss a lyric or two from laughing.
The look of concentration Murray got when his fingers danced over his guitar. The way he lost himself in the music.
Santiago facing me, building a rhythm alongside me. Giving me an encouraging smile. Lifting up the hem of his shirt to wipe the sweat off his brow.
The crowd yelling for us, yelling forme. They wanted me, and it was my first show. And when Mo brought me to the front of the stage at the end, there were marriage proposals and wave after wave of cheers. My boys had surrounded me, held me between them, made me feel like I was part of them.