Page 44 of Stuck With My Rockstar Boss
The number flashes up on the screens and the number of zeroes has me flabbergasted. Tears well into my eyes and I can’t keep from crying right there onstage in front of thousands of people. “I can’t believe it, I can’t believe it,” I mutter into my hands.
The band crowds around me. I am embraced by their warmth and their love. This is surreal. I never thought I’d be able to experience relief in this way. That maybe my parents and the house wouldn’t be a constant worry plaguing every choice I make.
“Say something, baby,” Lucas says softly in my ear and hands me his mic.
I nervously step out of the circle of their safety and face the audience. Alone in the light. I’ve never stood here without Lucas. But I don’t feel scared. “You have no idea what this means to me. We’re all strangers to each other and yet so many of you have made the choice to put that aside to give me something. It’s not just money,” I say with a wistful smile, tears rolling down my face. “You have all given me the ability to choose freedom. Freedom in what I do. In whom I love.” I glance over at Lucas who is leaned up against the amps with Dylan. Dylan nudges him and Lucas smiles bashfully. “I wish I could give that all back to you in such a tangible way. But I think what we really owe all of you is the music. So, guys. Fuck it up.”
Houston eats this up like it’s the last donut in the box. They’re wild, they’re feral. And what ensues is three more hours of tremulous, hard rock. The guys play songs they haven’t all tour, they improvise, they goof off. This audience is getting a show they’ll never forget and we are giving them everything we have.
From time to time, Lucas returns his gaze to me. I can’t help but look back with all the love in the world. He’s given me something no one has even come close to. It’s not the money, but the gesture. I can’t let a man that wants me to be this safe and loved go.
Never, ever, ever.
Epilogue
Lucas
“I think it’ll be great, Lucas. It sounds like you’re both really ready for this,” Dana says with a soft smile, her brown eyes magnified by her thick lensed glasses.
I swallow and try to smile back. “Yeah. I mean, I know it’s fast, but–”
“It’s all relative,” she cuts me off.
“Exactly.”
Dana puts her notebook aside. “You two have been through a lot together. I think it’s only natural that this level of commitment and attachment has come so quickly.”
“Well, she hasn’t said yes yet, so…” I chuckle even though my heart is throbbing.
“I don’t want to say I know what she’ll say. That’d be irresponsible. But having met her and seen how you two are together, I would be very surprised if she said no.”
Dana has been my therapist for six months now. The first two, Mika came to the sessions with me. It was Dana’s goal to get me to a place where I felt safe enough with her to express my feelings without Mika around. And I was shocked when that day came. We were in the car right outside the therapy office and Mika was about to get out when I said, out of nowhere, “I think I got this one today.”
Now, I go to therapy alone. And I’ve come a long way. Being able to talk about the things that have happened to me, the roots of my anxiety, has alleviated not just the frequency of my panic attacks, but my fear of having them. Which means Mika has gone from my “security blanket” to just my amazing girlfriend.
Mika’s parents were able to pay off the entirety of the house and get back on their feet. And that helped Mika let go a bit. After a few weeks, we agreed that it would make sense for her to move in with me, although we don’t spend a ton of time at home. We travel often between band obligations. Road trips, international trips, even a river cruise during which the weather was rainy every day that we spent more time in our cabin trying not to get motion sickness while having sex.
We’ve had a lot of fun. Gotten incredibly close. I’ve never felt as close to someone.
And I’m ready to make it official. I picked out the ring a few weeks ago and have it in my pocket. I’ve planned the proposal out perfectly. I just need to get my nerves in check. Which is why an emergency session with Dana was necessary.
I check my watch. “Shit, I should go. Gotta catch my flight.”
“Of course. Thanks for coming in, Lucas. I always love chatting with you and hearing where your head is at. And feel free to be in contact at any time if you want to chat,” she says, getting to her feet and opening the door for me.
“You’re the best, Dana,” I smile.
She shrugs. “I’m okay, I think.”
I give her a hug. I never knew a therapist was someone you’d feel close to, at least not like this. But I’m sure grateful for it.
“It’s gonna go great,” she whispers in my ear. “You’ve got all the tools.”
I take a deep breath. I do have all the tools to stay on an even keel. I’ve got this.
When I get to the airport, Mika is already waiting for me. Her hair has grown so much in the past months since tour; it’s tousled and curling down to her shoulders. She’s wearing her signature plane look; sweatpants, long-sleeved crop top, and her neck pillow perched on her shoulders. And even though I’ve seen her in the outfit a million times before, even though I’ve seen her done up and dressed to the nines, this is the most beautiful she’s ever looked.
“Thank god you’re here, I was worried I wouldn’t have time to hit up the bookstore,” Mika says as I walk over to her.
