Page 10 of Verses Of Us

Alexis

Thecrowdtrickledinthrough the venue doors. Wedged against the fence barrier that stood between the audience and the stage, Alexis’ uneasiness rose. She never minded getting the best seats her money could buy, but this time, with hundreds of people gathering behind them, the sharp citrus scent ofCK Onefloating through the recirculated air, she became claustrophobic and acutely aware of who they were about to see.

Even if her lips had never felt so right as when they had pressed against his bristly yet soft cheek, as the hours passed, she began regretting kissing Ciarán. And even after expressing her uncertainty about standing front and centre, here she was, giving into her friend’s insistence. There was only one spot they should be and, according to Julie, that was in Ciarán’s direct line of sight. She believed that anything could happen so long as Alexis stayed in his mind. Alexis didn’t argue, humouring her friend, but one thing was for sure: Ciarán wouldn’t miss her standing directly in front of his microphone stand.

The loudspeakers blasted music that blended with the voices of thousands of people. Alexis loved the hum of pre-concert excitement and would never grow tired of it. The sound, the vibe, kept bringing her to concerts over and over.

When the music faded, the crowd went wild, their screams roaring through the amphitheatre like a jet engine. The house lights dimmed, casting the place in darkness as white, purple, and yellow spotlights bathed the stage with their glow. Filled with anticipation, the air overflowed with hormones and pure joy.

One by one, Ciarán’s band members came out on stage, settling behind their microphones, instruments at the ready, and waved to the audience. The lights flickered and flashed, their frenetic pattern matching Alexis’ thrumming heart.

And then Ciarán ran out from the right, microphone in hand, belting the opening lyrics to his current number one hit. The deafening screams drowned out Ciarán’s voice and Alexis had no choice but to read his lips.

Soon, her worries about what had happened that morning vanished. Her blood hummed, thumping with the beat, setting free the emotions she got each time she listened to Ciarán’s music. No matter how many people surrounded her, his words were poetry to her ears, meant for her, and her alone.

As the lights went dark, Ciarán looked directly at her, standing so close she could reach out and touch him, like everyone around her was trying to do. Instead, Alexis kept her hands at her sides, frozen by the appealing way he stared.

“Told you this was the best spot!” Julie shouted into her ear, clutching onto her arm. Alexis nodded, but couldn’t tear her eyes away.

The show continued, and as if it were his first performance, Ciarán sang with a bubbly enthusiasm. Pouring his soul into each word, he had never sounded so good. He danced around, sometimes goofing as he did. Every once in a while, his gaze returned to Alexis, the cool blue of his eyes like ice, and yet, she’d never been warmer.

The tempo slowed down halfway through the set, ushering in the unhurried notes ofHeaven I’m Looking For,the single from his first solo album. That he’d written the ballad alone had defined Ciarán as much more than a former boy band member. Unlike In Ovation, who didn’t write their own songs, Ciarán’s song writing skills had swayed the critics. Even years later, the single was a hit and there wasn’t a day it didn’t play on the radio. As the fans sang along, confirming its appeal, Alexis lost herself in her recurring daydream. Of course, she’d never admit such a thing to Julie, but some nights, lying in bed, she listened to this song on repeat on her Discman, and Alexis would imagine Ciarán singing to her.

There’s truth in her eyes,

One that sets my soul alight.

Her smile breaks me, awakens me,

She’s the Heaven I’m looking for.

Gus, the guitarist, stepped to the front of the stage for his solo, but Alexis couldn’t bring herself to look away from Ciarán. A slow smile spread across his face when their eyes met, seconds before he knelt and reached out his hand. Everything around her went dark. She was no longer in a crowd of thousands. No longer was she one of many. She was alone with Ciarán Jones and he wanted her to take his hand.

“Lexi! Take it!” Julie yelled, shaking and shoving her.

Alexis couldn’t move. A security guard at the front reached out, helping her up and over the fence as if she weighed nothing. Mortified, she wiggled out of his grasp, stretching to reach the stage. When her feet hit solid ground, her hand landed in Ciarán’s. He watched her, amused, and she fought to overlook what was happening. Terrified of public speaking, she grew painfully aware that this was a million times worse. She wasn’t in English class; she was on stage in front of over twenty thousand fans.

In a way that was comforting and lessened her worries, Ciarán sang, his eyes never releasing hers. He pulled her closer, their chests almost touching. Then he cupped her cheek and she couldn’t help but lean into his touch. Mesmerized, she stared as his lips mouthed each word and blinked back tears, watching her dream come true.

His hand drifted behind her head, his fingers weaving into her hair. Like magic, his touch made her feel weightless, but also grounded, her blood humming. Heat emanated from his body, luring her hands to move around his waist, to his back, where his t-shirt was damp with sweat.

They moved in a slow circle, but she couldn’t feel her feet. Ciarán stepped closer, still singing, and pressed his cheek against her temple. She heard his voice resonating from the speakers, but from so close, every word vibrated through his chest into hers. The baritone vocals rattled her heart, which hadn’t returned to its regular rhythm.

The more she accepted what was happening, the more her fingers dug into his back, tugging on the fabric of his shirt. They were two strangers lost in a crowd and the audience slipped away.

While he sang the second to last refrain, he pressed his forehead to hers, and though she mouthed the words along with him, no sound came out. Too encapsulated by the way their noses touched, by the nearness of their lips, her breathing grew difficult, laboured, shaky. Before she knew what was happening, before she could stop it, they were kissing.

Slowly at first, his mouth brushed against hers, warm and intoxicating. All sense of time vanished. Alexis slid her hands up from his back to his neck and his arms tightened around her, creating a secure enclosure she didn’t dare escape. A whooshing sound ran through her ears. She wasn’t sure if it was blood rushing to her head or the crowd reacting, but either way, she didn’t care. All that mattered was how occupied Ciarán was with her lips. It lasted a few seconds, but they were the greatest seconds of her life. Every inch of her buzzed, never more alert.

Ciarán drew back, frowning, singing the last words of the song, and then offered her a chaste kiss on her hand.

The crowd cheered. Numb from shock, Alexis turned to step off the stage and slammed into a wall of searingly envious glares and hanging jaws. Julie smiled, her mouth partly hidden behind her hand, and her eyes brimming with tears.

As gracefully as she could, Alexis jumped down into the arms of the awaiting guard, letting him drop her back into her spot behind the fence. The crowd had moved forward in her absence, but with Julie sticking out her elbows, Alexis wedged herself back in.

Julie nudged her with her shoulder. “When I’m right, I’m right.”

Alexis’s lips still burned from Ciarán’s kiss and she fought back her smile.

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