Page 134 of Starstruck
It’s not like I’ve never performed in front of a crowd before. I was in various concerts as a teenager, I sang at my parents’ funeral, and then I did two songs at the benefit last year. But I haven’t sang in front of a crowd since then, and when I lost my love for music after my parents died, I’d convinced myself I never would again.
But after the concert last year and with Baxter’s help, I finally decided to start recording some of my songs rather than selling them all. My first indie EP was released in January, and over the past few months, Jeremy’s been trying to convince me to sign with the label.
I keep telling him no—I love my job at Revolution too much and don’t enjoy performing enough to do it full-time. Plus, I didn’t want anything to pull my attention from planning this concert. But that didn’t stop him and Baxter from joining forces to convince me to add myself to the lineup for today.
I blow air out as I watch Isa make her way to where we stand. She instantly wraps her arms around me when she approaches, a huge smile on her face.
“You’ve got this, Lenny,” she whispers in my ear, squeezing me tight and calming every nerve in my body with the pressure.
I squeeze her back, letting my eyes fall shut as I take a moment to just breathe before my life changes forever.
“Just remember—you’re doing this for them.”
She doesn’t need to specify whothemis. We all know that my parents are the main reason I agreed to this.
I nod as she pulls away and my gaze shifts to Baxter, who holds his hand out to me. I take it, sending a nervous smile back to Isa, before Baxter drags me out onstage.
Holding the mic up to my mouth, I steel my expression, preparing to act as though I’m just introducing Baxter, like I did with every other act of the day. And honestly, I think the scariest part about this right now is that, like last year, not a soul in the crowd knows I’m going to be performingwithBaxter.
“Hi, Toronto!” I exclaim into the mic as we reach centre-stage, the spotlights beating down on me. “Are you ready for the last act of the day?”
The crowd roars in response, the butterflies in my stomach fluttering as I watch everyone cheer.
I chuckle into the mic. “I’ll take that as a yes. So give it up for the one, the only, Baxter James!”
A spotlight flashes on next to me as Baxter approaches the standing mic, his guitar slung over his shoulder and a wicked grin on his face.
“Evening, Toronto. I have a little surprise for you tonight,” he begins, flashing me a wink as I fake heading back offstage like I normally would. But just like we planned, he grabs my hand before I can and pulls me into his side.
The crowd screams as they begin to catch on. He looks over his shoulder at Colt, who strums the opening riff to my EP’s single, “not alone,” the one Baxter helped me write.
Looking out into the crowd, Baxter continues. “My beautiful wife and the love of my goddamn life is going to be joining meonstage tonight.” He smirks. “I hope that’s okay with all of you.”
I can barely hear myself think over the cheers and shouts from the crowd, the response so much better than I ever could have dreamt.
As Baxter glances down at me with a smile on his face and pure, unadulterated love in his eyes, I feel like I could do just about anything.
He begins strumming his guitar alongside Colt as I hold my microphone up to my lips. When my cue rolls around again, I open my mouth. And for the first time since before the funeral, I don’t just sing for my parents...
I also sing for myself.
Whispers of the past are haunting my every breath.
A broken heart, a lonely soul; we’re all weighed down by death.
There’s a memory of you carved out of stone.
And though it may crumble, I’ll never be alone.
As the song continues, I hold Baxter’s gaze, focusing only on the sound of my voice and the way he looks at me. Then when it fades into one of Baxter’s songs, I let myself revel in the fact that I never imagined I’d be here again.
My comfort level grows with each song, and ninety minutes pass in the blink of an eye. Before I know it, the closing riff to “Rockstars Never Die” ends and Baxter takes my hand, both of us facing out over the crowd.
With a smile on my face, I look up at him.
I love you, he mouths as the crowd goes wild around us.
I love you, I mouth back at him before turning toward the audience.
As I take a moment to just appreciate the sound of people cheering for me, I send up a silentthank youto my parents. Because without them, I never would’ve made it here.
They gave me music. And I know that no matter what happens, they’re always with me.
My parents were immortal. And now, so am I.
Because just like Baxter’s lyrics say…
Rockstars never die.
THE END
