Page 63 of A Way Out
Stephanie’s neighbor arrived to watch Riley, and everybody piled into a couple of SUVs and a rented van to accommodate Travis’s borrowed drum set. Two and a half hours later, they were parked behind the venue, unloading the band’s equipment.
The manager went glassy eyed when he spotted Holly, which turned into a positive for all of them. Holly suggested they’d like some food and beverages before the show, and he took off to deliver.
This was not typical at smaller venues like this, Holly whispered to Maria while they headed down a narrow hall to a dressing room behind the stage.
In no time at all, the bands were on stage doing a sound check. Maria wandered through the currently empty seats, snapping pictures and trying to imagine what it would be like when all those seats were claimed and rock music was blasting from the speakers.
It was even better than she imagined.
By the time the lights went out and the place was draped in darkness, Maria stood stage left, directly across from where the band would enter. The best view in the house, according to the manager.
The sound crew cut off the house music, and the crowd’s cheers and screams bounced off the walls. Excitement was a living, breathing entity, and it was contagious. Maria clapped her hands and stomped her feet, just as thrilled as all those people out there who had bought tickets to see this show.
Holly walked out onto stage in her white outfit and silvery blue hair. A spotlight clicked on, illuminating her.
The crowd went even wilder. Demigoddess Revival was gaining popularity, but Panic Station was huge.
“Hey, everybody,” she said, her voice amplified by the mic. She waved and smiled at the audience, who bounced and flapped their arms and screamed her name.
“I’m just here to introduce the band,” she said. Roars interspersed with laughter filled the room.
“Well, maybe I’ll sing with them. If you want me to.”
Unbelievably, the volume of excitement increased again. None of these people were going to be able to speak tomorrow.
It was a beautiful realization.
Guitar riffs vibrated off the walls, and another spotlight popped on, following Oz as he walked onto stage to stand next to Holly, his head bowed as he watched his own fingers glide over the strings.
More screaming, more shouting, more anticipation.
Oz’s short, dark hair was spiked all over his head. The hoop curled around his lip caught the light and sparkled. He wore a black button-down shirt with half the buttons left undone and tight black jeans with more holes than actual material.
Maria bit her fist. God, the man was the epitome of sexy. And she was pretty sure he was all hers. They hadn’t had a conversation about it, but he sure as heck was treating her like they were a couple.
They should probably talk about it soon; Holly had told Maria stories about groupies and their willingness to do anything with a hot guitarist—anything at all.
Maria wanted to make sure Oz understood that she wanted all that sexiness to herself.
Holly introduced Oz as the guitarist for Demigoddess Revival, and the crowd screamed almost as loudly as they had when she’d walked onto stage. He stopped playing long enough to wave and smile, then he tossed his pick into the crowd and tugged another from where he kept them lined up on the neck of his guitar.
While Oz plucked at the strings of his guitar, Holly introduced each of the Demigoddess Revival members in turn, until the entire band was on stage.
Oz changed the rhythm, and the crowd started screaming anew; apparently, they knew whatever song he was playing.
Holly laughed, Lacey flung her arm around her new sister-in-law, and together, the women sang into one mic while the band played a song called “This is It.” It was Panic Station’s first hit, which explained why the crowd went nuts.
The last chords of the song faded away, and Holly waved as she left the stage. Demigoddess Revival rocked into one of their own songs. Maria was utterly fascinated by their performance. Specifically Oz’s.
He prowled around that stage like he’d been doing this his whole life. Like this wasn’t the first time they’d sold out a venue outside of LA.
He took center stage; everything went black except the single spotlight on him. The rest of the band slipped away, for water, to wipe the sweat from their brows, to take a quick break.
It was time for the guitar solo.
She had no idea what he was playing, but it was beautiful. Melodic, bluesy, yet full of energy. Mesmerizing, and that was even before he glanced over and held her eyes. Emotions played across his face like he was physically tied to this song. For a moment there, his eyelids fluttered rapidly, like he was holding back tears, and Maria felt her own eyes well.
The man was spectacular.
