Page 88 of Your Rhythm
Then they start to play.
It feels like I don’t breathe from that moment until about halfway through the third song, when reality, or whatever version of it has taken over the crowd, floods my senses. I start to shout the words Ace is chanting into his mic, twisting my body in time with everyone around me.
They’ve left me speechless before, but this is something else. Sherbrooke Station could split a mountain in half with their music tonight. I let myself get lost in the moment for the rest of the show, screaming along with the crowd as the guys come back out for their encore.
Ace starts picking a tune on his guitar that makes something in my chest lurch, but I can’t quite make out what he’s playing yet. Matt gets up from his drum kit and walks over to the mic JP uses for backup vocals. People are shouting so loudly it takes him a few tries before he can even make himself heard.
“Okay, settle down, settle down. Just give me one fucking minute, you crazy motherfuckers.”
His voice is hoarse with both exhaustion and exhilaration.
“Thanks for coming out tonight. This show has been...” He swallows down some heady emotion. “This show has been better than we ever thought it could be. This last song, well, it’s for a girl.”
The hoots of the audience are deafening. Matt waves at them to calm down.
“I saidone fucking minute. Jesus, you guys are wild tonight. I love it. Anyways, yeah, we’re playing this one for a girl. I think she’s here tonight, so I just want to say thank you to her. From all of us. And...I’m sorry. From me. I owe you like ten thousand French vanillas.”
I’ve never passed out before, but this must be what it feels like when you’re about to faint. I put a hand over my heart and focus on breathing until the room stops spinning. Ace keeps playing that same riff over and over again, but the name of the song doesn’t hit me until Cole joins in with the bass line and Matt picks up his part on the drums.
They’re playing ‘Everlong.’
The crowd goes nuts when they recognize it too. Cell phones wave in time to the music as people swing them in arcs over their heads. Dave Grohl’s lyrics take on an inevitable edge of forlornness as Ace rasps them out in his dark and brooding voice, but all I can focus on is Matt thrashing away on his kit at the back of the stage.
Suddenly the only thing that matters in the entire world is being near him.
I wait until most of the crowd has thinned after the show before I pull the backstage pass out of my bag and fasten the laminate around my neck. I’ve done a few interviews here before, so I know how to make my way to where I’m hoping I’ll find the band, or someone who can take me to them.
Riggers and sound technicians in huge pairs of headphones are everywhere, scrambling around like insects. Except for a few sidelong glances at my laminate, no one has any time to question why I’m prowling around like a stalker. I catch the scent of melted cheese and cardboard that always accompanies delivery pizza. Rounding a corner, I find Sherbrooke Station and the opening band huddled around a table covered with pizza boxes. Matt’s got his back to me, but JP winks when he spots me and taps him on the shoulder before nodding my way.
Matt turns around, still working on a mouthful of pizza with his slice held up in front of him.
I can’t help the smile that breaks out across my face, so wide it feels like its tugging my cheeks apart. His piece of pizza falls to the floor.
That seems to alert the rest of the guys that something is up. They all start smirking when they notice me. JP leads them in a round of applause that prompts Matt to tell him to fuck off. He grabs a napkin off the table and wipes it over his mouth before crossing the distance between us in two huge strides and taking hold of my arm.
Neither of us speaks until he’s pulled me into an alcove on the side of the stage, the folds of a huge curtain suspended from the ceiling keeping us mostly hidden from view.
“Kay.” He cups his face in both my hands. “Kay.”
I laugh, partly out of amusement and partly because of how nervous I feel when I notice the intensity in his eyes.
“Yep, that’s my name.”
“Kay, I... Look, we have a lot to say to each other. I have apologies and explanations to make. I have things to tell you, and I’m sure you have things to tell me, but the truth is I don’t want to do any of that right now. Also, my ears are still ringing and I don’t think I could properly hear you if we did. What I mean is, Kay, what I mean is...”
He trails off, like his words can’t keep up with the energy I feel racing through him. His tongue darts between his lips as he looks at mine.
“What I mean is that right now, I just want you to know, it’s you and me. If you want me, I’m yours. For as long as you’ll have me. I want you, Kay. You and me.”
I reach up and wrap my hands around his where they’re still cradling my cheekbones.
“You and me,” I echo.
His mouth finds mine, and I don’t even care that there’s still pizza sauce on his breath. It’s the best fucking kiss of my life.
* * *
After our make-outsession gets so intense we nearly bring the curtains down, Matt and I agree to save it for later and head back to see the band. I straighten my shirt and pat my hair down before stepping into view, but we’re still met with a chorus of wolf whistles.
