Page 115 of Grave Misgivings
Even when we played for crowds of one hundred, he’d always had this way of connecting with an audience. Making the performance feel personal, even though it was more or less part of his job. His act.
He was always magnetic, warm, and inspiring, but watching him performIt’s Always Been Youwas an out of body experience.
Watching him fall to his knees, hand clutched to his chest, hearing thepowerin his voice, thelove...
And then he looks at me.
In a sea of people, he looks atme.
And then he stands up, saunters his perfectly fine ass across the stage, and I can barely breathe.
Katy tugs at my hand, pulling me out of a tear-filled stupor.
“Must’ve been some kiss,” she whisper shouts in my ear. She looks up at me with watery eyes, the glitter on her face lighting up from her smile.
Debbie pulls my attention from her daughter.
I wipe my wet eyes, noticing hers are teary, too.
We all are.
She reaches out, her fingers smoothing my vintage tee.
“He’s quite a gift, isn’t he?” she says, biting her lip.
“Yeah, he is,” I respond as she smoothes her fingertips over my frayed collar. Her nails tickle my neck as she sighs.
“And all this time, I thought it was going to be Katy.” She laughs.
Katy laughs, too, and I can’t help but cry and laugh, too.
Joel hugs his daughter, shaking his head.
“What are you still doing here? Go! He’s waiting for you!” he orders, and I don’t have to be told twice.
I make my way through the crowd, heading for the side of the stage.
I flash my VIP pass, but the security guard doesn’t seem to buy it.
“He’s with me,” a deep voice echoes, and I look up to see the ominous Mateo Starr, decked out in black leather, hands slipped into his pockets with that stoic steely gaze. He steps out from the shadows, nodding at the security guard.
“Of course, Mr. Starr,” the guard replies, and Mateo nods for me to follow him.
We stop just behind the stage, and I know he’s going to have to go on soon, and I need to find my boyfriend?—
“I’m only going to say this once, so listen close, Zebulon.”
I stare him down as he lets out a deep breath.
“Be good to him. He’s one of the fucking good ones.”
Before I can say anything, he holds his hand up.
“If you break his heart, I will come for you.”
His threat is not without levity. The way Mateo Starr speaks, I totally believe he’d kill me.
And something about that is comforting. Like a big brother protecting their younger sibling, and I think I understand now.
