Page 22 of Another Postcard

Brooklynn

Icouldn’t believe it. Our six weeks were up and we were kicking off our tour the next day with a concert in New York. Well, New Jersey, technically, since it was at Meadowlands Arena. It seemed a little surreal. We’d all gone to see family or friends over the previous weekend, taking some time away from each other before we were together 24/7 for six months. Well, three for me.

We all came back to town the night before and met up at Simon’s loft in SoHo for a jam session. It was full of fun and none of the music we played was ours. We ended up challenging each other to play obscure pieces of music. If you told someone to play it and they couldn’t, they had to do a shot. It was our rocker version of beer pong. We laughed and joked and simply let loose. It felt fucking awesome.

Levi and I hadn’t talked about what happened between us the night of our last recording. He still looked at me with hungry eyes, but he gave me some space.Somebeing the operative word. He still slipped in dinner invitations, even by text when he was at home with his family. It slowly filtered out the awkwardness I was feeling, the normalcy righting my off-kilter world once again.

The buzz from the alcohol and the high from laughter must have lowered my inhibitions because we were certainly more touchy-feely than usual, and I did nothing to stop it. As it got later, the group thinned out until it was only Simon, Levi, and me left. Simon finally stood, told us to lock up, and stumbled to bed. Then we were alone. I had just enough sense to keep from jumping his bones and announced it was time for me to go home. When I twisted my scarf around my head, I fell into a fit of giggles and Levi helped me right it. After he’d buttoned up my coat, he stood still and stared into my eyes. His hand brushed along my cheek and then tucked a piece of hair behind my ear.

“You know, it’s our first concert together tomorrow night,” he whispered seriously. “I don’t see how we are going to have the right chemistry on stage unless you go out with me first.”

I stifled a giggle. “It’s two o’clock in the morning. We can’t go on a date!” His suggestion had sobered me right up, but I didn’t let on because I was so very tempted to take him up on his offer. I was already feeling an adrenaline rush in anticipation of performing and pumped for the concert. Going home to my empty apartment was a depressing thought, and I vaguely entertained the idea of saying yes as long as I killed any expectation of it being a date. I would clarify the platonic nature of our evening, and we could go as friends.

“Of course, if we were really serious about our craft,” he drawled in a low, husky tone that sent shivers down my spine. “We’d skip all that other stuff and go straight to fucking. Then the sexual tension between us would be so much more realistic.”

I sputtered with laughter.Platonic. Yeah, you keep telling yourself that, Brooklynn.

Leaning in, I kissed his cheek and quietly, regretfully, mumbled, “Goodnight, Levi.”

13

Brooklynn

“Are you nervous?” Kristi asked, shuffling her weight from foot to foot with an overabundance of energy.

I laughed and slipped my hands into the back pockets of my jeans, resting my weight on my heels. “I don’t get nervous before a performance. For some reason, my anxiety always manifests itself afterward. I generally walk off the stage on legs that are practically Jell-O.”

Sasha threw Kristi a sly look before flipping her head over to gather her hair into a high ponytail. “She’s been doing this for over a decade and she still fights the urge to throw up every time,” she divulged, winking at Kristi after she flipped her head back up. Kristi grimaced and pressed her hands against her stomach, her face a little green.

I laughed as I added last minute touches to my makeup and fluffed my hair in the mirror. Sometimes, for concerts, I put large bouncy curls in my stick-straight hair. It was such a pain in the ass to do, so it was a rare occurrence. My debut concert with Stone Butterfly definitely called for it. My sparkly, purple top was a halter with a deep cut-out in the center, so I double checked the tape keeping my boobs from popping out. Skin-tight leather pants were accentuated with a silver belt that matched my chunky earrings and bracelets, and knee-high, five-inch stiletto boots.

Kristi was equally decked out in a silver tank top, hot pink short shorts and tall wedges. Sasha, though…she was somehow a mixture of the shiny rock star and the laid back, every day Sasha. Her red hair was smoothed back and hung straight and long from her ponytail. Her makeup was dark and smoky, overly made up, like the rest of us, so we wouldn’t be washed out in the stage lights. She wore a black T-shirt that dipped off one shoulder, revealing a leopard print strap, and ripped skinny jeans, the tears strategically placed, of course, with neon yellow platforms.

“I gotta say, girls,” I drawled. “We look pretty fucking hot.”

Sasha blew me a kiss. “Thanks, B. If I swung that way, you two would be my first choice. I don’t know how I’d decide.” She shrugged casually, but smiled with barely contained humor. “We’d probably end up in a threesome.”

Kristi snorted. “Wherever Simon is, his head just exploded.”

Our laughter was interrupted by the door to our dressing room opening. Mimi, our stage manager, popped her head inside. “Ten minutes, girls.”

We were finally about to kick off our first concert on theFor Your Sanitytour and it was also the first time Levi and I would be singing “Sanity” for an audience. The song was so personal to us—a part of us—that it was freaking me out a little. The worst feeling in the world had to be baring your soul to someone and having them decide it was ugly.

We’d grown so close while recording that song, and despite his constant invitations (and, you know...those, um, moments of weakness), when we walked out the door, I never relented. But, damn, the electricity between us was only strengthening, and the tension from fighting my desire to say yes, to take a chance and be with him, was wearing me thin. That morning, when we were rehearsing on stage, the lights wrapped us in a cocoon as we sang our song. I was pretty sure that if we hadn’t been surrounded by our band mates and crew, we would have torn each other’s clothes off and gone at it right there on the stage. But, I withdrew and it was the first time I saw impatience in his eyes, his control slipping and giving me a glimpse of just how deep his barely leashed hunger was. I had a feeling we were both approaching our breaking point.

My cell phone rang, yanking me out of my thoughts, and I saw Baylee’s picture flash across the screen. I only had a few minutes, and Cecily knew my schedule so she wouldn’t let her call unless it was an emergency. I stepped over to the farthest corner in the dressing room and answered worriedly. “Baylee? Are you all right?”

“Cecily said I shouldn’t call, but I had to wish you good luck!” Baylee’s sweet voice was filled with excitement, and I sighed in relief when I realized nothing was wrong. I knew I should be firm about the rules of when she could call, but I was so filled with love for my baby sister. She and Cecily were such big fans of Stone Butterfly and were in awe of the fact that I was, if only temporarily, a part of the band. When I spent the previous weekend with them, Bailey had danced around the living room singing their songs all day. Calling to wish me luck was adorable, and I couldn’t even muster up a smidgen of desire to admonish her. I also felt bad because she hadn’t been able to come to the concert. Cecily was sick, and there was no way for me to take care of Baylee while I was performing.

“Thank you, sweet girl,” I sing-songed. “You have no idea how much it helps to have you wishing for me. But, I’ve got to run and get on stage, ok?”

Baylee giggled and started singing a Stone Butterfly song at the top of her lungs and didn’t hear me when I said goodbye. Mimi knocked again before opening the door all the way. “Showtime!” she announced. I tossed my phone onto my dressing table and followed Mimi into the wings on stage right, I felt a spring in my step that hadn’t been there before. I determined to make my sister proud.

Our concert was packed with energy and emotion, the audience screaming and clapping, fanning the fire. Over the last couple of years, every time I filled in last-minute for bands who were having concerts in or around New York, they were usually one show, two at the most, and then I was back home and, spending most of my time in the studio. Which was fine with me. I loved the rush of performing on a stage in front of thousands of people. There was nothing like it. But my past experiences had been nothing compared to this. The timing had never been right and I’d never truly been a part of the band.

This time, everything was different. My contract was temporary, but that hadn’t stopped everyone from treating me like I’d always been, and would always be, one of the group. I’d slipped right into their groove seamlessly. I was still in awe of the incredible musicians who made up Stone Butterfly. And, this time, I felt like one of them.

Simon and Matteo were already out there, ramping up the audience as Sasha, Kristi, and I walked onto the stage. The lights blinded me for a moment, then my vision exploded with one of those “movie moments” we have in life. The ones where you think,this can’t be real, it only happens in the movies. But there I was, surrounded by thousands and thousands of screaming fans, under bright lights on a massive stage, and for the first time, I felt like I completely belonged there. I wasn’t the odd man out to the musicians I was performing with.

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