Page 56 of Out of the Blue

Dwight dons a large smirk. “Believe me, no complaints in that department.”

Raine comes over, clapping. “Alright, you guys. Are you ready to rock this arena?”

I get my head out of my ass soon enough to nod along with the entire band. Including Trent. Good.

“So, we have some VIPs here with us tonight. I’m sure you know Trent’s aunt and her family are up front. Make sure you give them a good show.”

Dwight slings his arm around Trent’s shoulders. Their mouths move, although I can’t make out what they’re saying. When they break apart, I’m relieved to see him joking with his friends. All’s good.

“Alright, guys. Let’s get ready to show New Hampshire what they’ve been missing out on. Break a leg!” Raine puts his hand in and the guys follow suit.

“TLR” rings through the backstage area. I allow myself a mental pat on the back for creating the hashtag. Trent walks up to me. “Thank you. I wouldn’t be standing here if it weren’t for you.” He kisses me, the power of it turning me to mush.

When he steps back, his hands reach for my shoulders to steady me. I stare into his eyes, which shine back at me. “Enjoy yourself out there.”

“I will, knowing you’re back here waiting for me.”

And he’s gone.

Leaning against the wall, I follow the band as they make their way behind the curtain. The guys bounce from foot-to-foot backstage, getting pumped for the concert. Good-natured ribbing and laughter rise to the rafters, spreading warmth throughout my limbs. I had a small part in helping Trent get to this point.

Raine yells, “Alright guys. Go get ‘em!”

With a final high five, they enter the stage, and the audience greets them with warm applause. Pushing away from the wall, I hold up my Canon and tiptoe next to Raine.

While they get situated by their instruments, I snap some shots. Photos from this vantage point are cool.

“They’re definitely on it tonight.”

I glance at the shaggy-haired man in jeans and sneakers. “Yeah. I think so.”

I upload a couple of photos as they begin their gig with “Hurts Good.”

A Google Alert pops up on my phone capturing my attention. It’s fromFirst Rumors. Crap. I raise my phone to Raine, then leave the backstage area for the green room. I click on the article and a story about Dwight pops up, which I force myself to read. It shares about his ADHD, alleging his “erratic behavior” puts a strain on the band. And lays the blame on him as the reason why they haven’t put out any new songs.

Remembering their interaction at the bar when Trent teased him about his ADHD, I know this will cut both Dwight and Trent to their cores. Since I can’t do anything to counteract the story right this second, I pull up Mr. Hewitt’s contact info and give him a call. It’s only eight, so I’m sure he’s still at Apex.

He answers on the first ring. “I was getting ready to call you. Did you read the latest from our friends atFirst Rumors?”

I sigh. “That’s what I’m calling about.”

“This is the fourth article about the band they’ve run.” I hear some clicks, like he’s at his computer. “We’re launching a full-out investigation into who might be tipping the tabloid off.”

I wish I could give him a clue. “I don’t know who it could be. The articles they’re posting are sort of generic, you know? Like, anyone could see Maurice’s glasses are thick and he had a red eye at the beginning of the tour. And Dwight’s diagnosis happened back when he was in school.”

“I hear you. But Apex is starting to think the band may not be worth all the effort.”

My stomach curls in on itself. “Please don’t give up on them. TLR’s really good.”

“Well, how about you work up a strategy on this latest article and send it over. I’ll do what I can from my end.”

“Sounds good.” Damn it. Why is this tabloid picking on TLR? What did they ever do to anyone? They’re barely known outside of Jersey and some places in The City. What could be prompting all this negative press?

I collapse onto the sofa. TLR’s still playing, and I allow their music to envelope me. Standing up, I grab my camera and amble backstage. Trent’s only a little stiff, more relaxed than I’ve ever seen him onstage. The band sounds great. I’m sure his Auntie Gloria is enjoying herself.

“They’re doing better tonight.”

I startle at the tenor voice, not having heard anyone approach. Well, with TLR playing, it’s understandable. Twisting my head, I reply, “Yeah. I was thinking the same thing, Braxton.”

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