Page 111 of Starstruck
It’s been exhausting. This has been the most important day to me for the past eight months, and it’s crazy to think that in a matter of hours, it’s all going to be over.
It doesn’t help matters knowing I’m going to have to see Baxter today. Aside from the text I sent him a few days ago, we haven’t spoken. And I’m scared that when I do finally see him again, I’ll forget why I’m even mad in the first place.
After the news broke about Logan, we had to issue a handful of refunds because people have a problem with the fact that the brother of the man who killed Thorned Roses is headlining at a concert in honour of them.
It wasn’t a huge deal—the tickets sold out again right away—and I can’t say I blame them, really. If I’d had more time, I probably would’ve removed him from the show altogether. But the news only broke two weeks ago, and though I’ve been good at planning this show, I’m not naive enough to think I could pull a new headliner out of my ass on such little notice. Especially not when I struggled so much to find one in the first place.
So, Baxter it is.
Now I can’t wait for this day to be done.
I pull up to Tidal Waves, the waterfront venue I booked for the show. Volunteers and staff have been here since seven a.m. setting up, and it’s just after eight now.
Thankfully, since I have the stage booked for the whole weekend, most of the setup is already done. The makeshift dressing rooms and trailers fill the field behind the stage, and soundcheck went better than I could’ve hoped yesterday. This morning has been more about getting vendors set up around the perimeter.
I say hi to a few of the volunteers as I head backstage. I don’t expect all the performers to be here this early, but I’m pleasantly surprised when I see the first five acts hanging out in the pop-up tent we’re using as a green room. I head over, thanking them again for being here, then move to help the engineers run a finalsoundcheck before the gates open at nine.
One thing I was worried about with this show was how early it starts. The ten a.m. start time didn’t stop people from selling it out, but I have a feeling a lot of the crowd won’t show up until noon or so, unless they want a really good spot. Which is part of the reason I was happy to oblige We, The Exiled’s request to play early—they’re a huge incentive for a good amount of the crowd, so I know a lot of people will show up for them.
Soundcheck goes smoothly once again, so I excuse myself, heading to the front of the venue. I admire the already massive line of people waiting as I check in with security to ensure everything is running okay for them, to which they assure me it is.
Before I know it, all the vendors are set up and the huge, open space is ready for the show.
I smile to myself as I make my way backstage again, wanting to be out of the way when the gates open in five minutes. Aside from the VIP tent to the right of the stage, every ticket was general admission—so there are no designated seats. I’m betting everyone showing up first thing are those who want to be right in front of the stage.
I chuckle, grabbing my clipboard with the schedule for the day and examining it again, even though it’s ingrained into my brain at this point. My eyes fly across each name before landing on Baxter’s.
I’m never going to be ready to see him, but on the bright side, he’s not performing until eight thirty p.m. That gives me almost twelve hours to prepare myself and hope that when I do, I’m able to stand my ground and remember why I’m mad to begin with.
“Auntie Wenny!” I hear a voice call from behind me, pulling me from my thoughts. I spin around to see Isaac barrelling toward me.
I bend down, setting the clipboard on the stage next to me, and spread my arms wide to catch him as he throws himself into me.
“Hi, Bug,” I chuckle as I pick him up. “Are you excited?”
He nods, a massive toothy grin on his face. “I’m dunna dance,Wenny!”
I laugh as he begins squirming in my arms, already showing off his moves. “I bet you are, buddy.” When I set him down, he begins running circles around the group that now stands next to me—Paige, Trevor, Dylan, Emma, and my niece Nora, who is the next to wrap her arms around me.
“Hi, sweet girl,” I say, squeezing her tight.
She’s wearing one of my parents’ old band tees that I’m sure belonged to Dylan, a pair of denim shorts, and her knock-off Doc Martens. She has her hair styled in two French braids, just the way my mom used to do for her all the time.
“This is really cool, Aunt Lennon.” The smile on her face is bigger than I’ve seen on her in a long time. “I think Lolly and Pops would love it,” she adds, referring to her grandparents.
I brush a hand down her cheek and send a watery smile back to her. It warms my heart to hear her say that—next to me, I think Nora has struggled most with the death of my parents. She’s only seven and was extremely close to them both, so losing them was a real shock to her. She’s been having a hard time since it happened, so I’m hoping today will help her begin to heal, too, just like it has for me.
“Thank you, Nor.” I press a kiss to her forehead before she runs off to join her brother.
I greet the rest of my family, all of them sharing the same sentiment about how proud they are of me and how impressed they are with how everything has come together.
We chat for a bit as the crowd rolls in. The hour passes quickly, and before I know it, it’s time for us to introduce the first act of the day.
“Are you ready, Lens?” Paige inquires, her eyes curious, as echoes from the crowd filter through to backstage.
I look between them, smiles dusting all of their faces. Hell, even Dylan’s lips are quirked, and that alone tells me that no matter how things play out today, I deserve to be damn proud ofwhat I’ve accomplished here.
And I know for certain now that my parents would be, too.
