Page 16 of Rock and a Hard Place

The time flew by so fast, she couldn’t believe how soon Miss Orman returned. Libby’s face must have shown disappointment, as she was about to click on a site with Jamieson’s newest release.

“I guess I came back too soon.”

“Has it really been a half hour?” She felt desperate to hear his voice again.

“It’s been forty minutes. Didn’t you hear the bell ring?”

“Oh my gosh, no.” Her head jerked up to check the wall clock, confirming the late time. “I guess I better get going.” She hated to do it, but she clicked the window closed, so Miss Orman wouldn’t see what she’d been looking at: the official Jamieson site, with loads of pictures, music downloads, tour dates, blogs, and scheduled appearances. She could spend a day on it and never grow tired. How could she not have taken the time to hear their music?

“Did you find what you were looking for?”

Libby beamed as she stood and picked up her books.

“Yeah, thanks, I did. It was great.” She felt a mix of euphoria from pouring over the details of Peter’s life and regret at having to quit.

“Glad to help. You let me know if you need to get on again.”

“I definitely will, thanks.”

“Libby?”

“Yeah?” She turned back.

“Don’t you think it would help if I gave you a late pass?”

“Oh yeah.” Libby took the pink slip of paper and wandered out of the office toward her next class. All the photos of Peter and his brothers filled her head. Some were taken onstage, some from photo shoots, others greeting fans. Those were interesting. Lots of girls surrounded the three brothers, all with huge smiles, but she bet they never spent time alone with Peter just hanging out.

She needed to figure out how to get his music—and now—but she didn’t have any money, or a phone to download it to. This could take some creativity.

5

Peter waited backstage, a few days later, with his brothers. Despite the sound of the excited crowd, his mind wandered to his afternoon with Libby. He loved the time they spent together at Parfrey’s Glen and hoped she’d be there Saturday. He didn’t know why he felt this way; maybe because she didn’t care who he was. But she didn’t really know who he was, either.

The thought made him smile. It also might be that Libby was his friend and no one else’s. She had nothing to do with the band, the new album, or the tour.

“Hello, Earth to Peter.” Garrett interrupted his thoughts. “You want to get your head in the game here?”

“What?” Peter scowled.

“You might want your earpiece.”

Peter reached for his sound pack and found it absent. “Aw, man. I’ll be right back.” He rushed offstage to get itand was met halfway by a panicked sound tech who quickly hooked him up.

“You’ve got it bad, man!” Garrett yelled after him. “Real bad!”

Once back in place and ready, Peter waited for their intro. The crowd in the arena went wild. The combined energy built to epic levels. The backup band was positioned at the rear of the stage. Garrett waited stage left, bass guitar in hand. Adam mirrored him on stage right, with Peter anchored in the center. His blood rushed in anticipation as their moment grew near. God, he loved this.

The music built in a huge crescendo, spotlights roamed the arena, and fog rolled onto the stage. The trio of brothers nodded to one another, in sync and ready to rock.

Adam went first, a spotlight illuminating him; he grinned and hit the opening chord; the crowd went into a frenzy. Moments later, Garrett appeared, guitar in hand. The audience cheered as he joined Adam in musical power. Finally, Peter stepped into the lights, and the crowd went ballistic.

Peter loved this part of the night. After a long afternoon of rehearsal, sound checks, and final warm-ups, it was time for the payoff. He gave his signature welcome to the audience, nodding in several directions, each time eliciting more cheers.

He stepped up to his mic stand and held it in anticipation. His body pulsed to the beat as he waited for his entrance. He gazed out over the vast crowd, filled with confidence and power.

The audience rocked to the music. Eager and excited, they became putty in his hands. The moment came. The guitars hit his key, the drum and cymbals crashed, and the lights exploded in color. In that same instant, Peter swung the mic stand and nailed his opening note, his body taut with strength and energy. His pure voice rose above the instruments; his lyrics hit the back wall. He owned the stage. All eyes were on him. The night was young, and he was ready to rock.

Song after song, the three moved with a synchronicity only possible among brothers. They worked off each other’s signals, and moved from individual highlights and solos to unison movement. At times, they delivered their carefully crafted harmonies, singing together at one mic, their heads inches apart. They exchanged silent communication. When they were onstage, they displayed complete and utter harmony of movement, thought, and talent. They hummed with energy.

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