Page 31 of Electric Touch

Then it’s over, and I feel as if I’ve been dancing for days. My legs hurt, my throat is hoarse from singing. It’s been one of the best nights of my life. The house lights come on and the curtains close over the stage, causing some boos of disappointment.

“That was the best gig I’ve ever been to in my life.”

Sasha wriggles about beside me and finishes the last of her champagne. We’ve been kept supplied as the show went on and I’m feeling tipsy from the bubbles.

“You should text him,” Sasha says as we grab our stuff to leave.

“Not now, he’ll be busy,” I shake my head. We leave our row when the drinks lady approaches.

“Ladies, are you ready to go backstage?”

“Get the fuck out.”

“Excuse my friend,” I say, giving Sasha a look, but it doesn’t quiet her. “I’m sorry I didn’t hear you right. Backstage?”

“Yes. The band has given out ten tickets to lucky fans, and you have two of them.”

“Yes. Lead the way!” Sasha shouts.

We’re handed lanyards, along with eight other people, and go to a door leading backstage. I feel nervous. It’s one thing speaking to Nash in a normal, social environment. Seeing him perform, then going back there with the rest of the band? Not so much. I quietly start hyperventilating. Not as bad as some fans with us, who are squealing and chattering away in delight. I wonder how much they paid for this privilege. We’re walking back here for free, without knowing it was going to happen.

It isn’t like being backstage at an arena or huge venue. The theatre is small, with lots of corridors that eventually lead to a large room. There is food and drink to one side, lots of seating areas with people milling about. And the band is here. Sasha drags me to the drink table and grabs us each a beer. I take it, still kind of dazed. Most of the fans have made a beeline for the band. I stand back, scanning the room.

Finally I see him. He is smiling at a guy with a headset around his neck as they chat. Then a couple of women approach and a jolt of jealousy burns my stomach. I look away as he talks to them. Riley is in a corner with a couple of women who don’t look like fans but friends of hers. She keeps eyeing Nash as I watch her.

Riley is an attractive woman. She seems shut off though, aloof and a little too put together. Like she is trying too hard to look like a rockstar, rather than having the effortless vibe the rest of the band has. I shake my head. I shouldn’t be analysing these people. Especially not her, when I don’t like the emotions stirring up inside me as I do.

“Hey ladies, what did you think of the show?”

I turn to Jack McQueen. He grabs a beer for himself and eyes us both with a big grin. Sasha gushes about how amazing it was, while I smile politely. I feel out of place. I’m not used to this.

“How about you, sweetheart? You’re very quiet over there. No need to be shy.”

“Oh, I’m not shy,” I say. “I’m just taking it all in.”

“Yeah?” He gives me a sultry grin. “So we’re leaving for a club in a little while. Want to tag along?”

“Yes,” Sasha says before I can decline.

“Great, stick with me,” Jack puts his arm around me, and I stiffen.

Before I can say anything, he’s pulled away from me. Nash moves between me and Jack.

“Ever hear of personal space, Jack?” He says.

Jack eyeballs him, then looks at me. I see the amusement in his eyes but he apologises for touching me without asking permission. I tell him it’s fine.

Leaning in so he can whisper it, close to my ear, Nash says, “You came.”

“You sent the tickets.”

He tilts his head back and laughs. “I did.”

“This is Sasha, my friend,” I introduce her and she shakes Nash’s hand.

“So, how do you guys know each other?” Jack asks, looking from me to Nash.

“We met a few weeks ago,” Nash says, but doesn’t elaborate further. He and Jack stare at each other for a moment. There is a silent conversation going on between them. “Can you excuse us a sec? I want to talk to Adrestia about something.”

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