Page 2 of Mason Wilder
They were halfway through the show when the lights suddenly went out and blackness engulfed the arena. The sound of Tessa’s voice was reduced to a mere whisper compared to the explosive roar it had been a moment ago. The grungy wail of lead and rhythm guitar was now a sprinkle of sound across the stage. The heavy beat of Mason’s drums, still loud without the aid of an amplifier, trickled off as his arms came to a stop, and the shimmer of the cymbals floated through the air. A murmur of panicked voices rose from the crowd, while cell phones quickly came to life and provided small pockets of light.
Lucas immediately moved between Tessa and Sindy and offered a few reassuring words. “Power’s out. Don’t worry. The venue should be able to get it back on.”
“Everyone OK down there?” Mason called from atop the drum riser.
All three of them turned toward the back of the stage to face Mason. Tessa could barely see him, but as her vision adjusted to the darkness, the dim light illuminating from cell phones at the side stage clearly reflected his eyes. He was looking directly at her.
“Tess?” he prompted when no one immediately replied.
Her heart swelled. “I’m fine.”
“We’re OK, too,” Lucas said, a smile permeating his words.
A stagehand ran toward them with a frantic look on his face. “The whole block is out. We’re trying to get the generator turned on. Hang tight.” He looked into the audience. People were starting to get unruly, shouting and pushing as some tried to leave the venue. “This could get really ugly, real fast,” he said, fear prevalent in his voice. He looked to Tessa. “Do something while I check on the gennie.”
He flew off stage, leaving Tessa to calm the wild crowd. She knew that without her microphone her voice wouldn’t carry very far, but she was going to give it her best shot. She tried to make a joke about their music being so loud that it blew the grid, but no one reacted. She repeated the remark, this time using her diaphragm and projecting her voice. Nothing. Normally, her voice contained enough power to at least reach the first few rows, but the place was in an uproar. She tried again, this time singing the chorus ofDrivenat the top of her lungs and inviting the fans to join her in an a cappella sing-along. “Come on!” she shouted. “You know the words!” But they ignored her.
“Forget it,” Lucas said. “You’re going to hurt your voice. Just wait for the power to come back on.”
A bad feeling trickled up her spine, and for once in her life, she had no idea how to handle the situation.
“This is bad,” Sindy said, moving closer to Tessa and Lucas so the three were huddled together at the center of the stage.
The people in the audience were shoving each other as they tried to exit, but they couldn’t get past the end of their rows. It was about to get ugly, as the stagehand had predicted. In a last ditch effort to get the attention of the audience, she screamed out a lyric like a death metal god and played a few notes on her bass, which she could barely hear above the noise. It was useless. She stood with her brother and her best friend and watched the audience grow more agitated and louder by the second. If the generator didn’t come on soon, people could easily be trampled as they continued to push toward the exit.
BOOM. BOOM. BOOM-BOOM-BOOM.
Tessa jumped at the unexpected sound from behind her. For a quick second she thought it was an explosion, but it was Mason pounding on his double bass drums with both feet in quick succession, harder and louder than she ever heard. He attacked his toms with an aggressive assault and immediately broke a stick. Seamlessly, he grabbed a new one from the stick bag and continued the onslaught. The bass drum pounded like thunder and the symbols splashed like lightning.
“What’s he doing?” Sindy asked.
Tessa’s heart ballooned with pride as she smiled at Mason. “He’s saving the day.”
A member of the road crew ran on stage and held the light from his cell phone on Mason. It was a tiny spotlight, but the bright chrome drum hardware and the mirror-like gleam from the golden cymbals picked up the reflection like diamonds. Stagehands and the rest of the road crew rushed out, cell phones lighting the way. They formed a semi-circle with Mason at the center, aglow on the otherwise darkened stage.
Tessa looked toward the audience, which had quieted down. People were no longer yelling or trying to leave in a frenzy. Their heads were slowly turning toward the front of the arena to focus their attention on Mason. They were more interested in watching Prodigy’s renowned drummer than worried about the momentary black out. The unruly crowd now became orderly.
“Holy shit,” Sindy said. “They’re paying attention to him.”
“Damn!” Lucas exclaimed, grinning at his best friend. “I’ll be surprised if he doesn’t tear a skin. Look how hard he’s smacking those drums.”
No one had to tell Tessa to look at Mason. She was hypnotized by his talent. It hadn’t just won her heart two decades ago, it calmed a crowd of 20,000 people who were near hysteria. She reveled in watching his dimpled smile, the scruffy stubble on his jaw, the prolific tattoos that covered his upper body and the gorgeous muscles that resided there. The exertion he expelled with this showy performance left his chest and shoulders broad with strength and his biceps perfect arcs of round muscle.
Without warning, the lights came on and lit up the arena. Normally, in this situation, there would’ve been a collective cheer and maybe some shouts of relief, but the crowd never reacted. With the power back, the sound of Mason’s heavy drumbeats exploded through the amplifiers. Tessa felt the vibrations in her bones with a glorious shake.
The audience’s focus intensified as they took in the magnificent showmanship on the drums, which proved why Mason Wilder, a third-generation drumming god, was one of the best drummers in the world. The smile on Mason’s face, the way his eyes were illuminated and sparkled, the way he drew his arms high above his head before bringing them down with a ferocious thunderclap, had the arena captivated. All eyes were on Mason, including the production crew and his bandmates.
Even though the amps were back, he never softened his relentless assault. Sindy had her hands over her ears with an incredulous smile on her face. Lucas gazed at his best friend just as awestruck as the audience. And Tessa beamed at him with every ounce of love in her heart.
Without pause, Mason went from slamming his sticks on his snare to throwing them straight into the audience. He stood up, smiling so brightly that it probably would have illuminated the stage if the lights went out again. He stretched his arms out to the sides and bowed to the tremendous cheers and applause before he stepped down from the riser.
Tessa watched his chest move up and down with deep breaths as air filled his lungs. His open-mouthed smile stretched across his cheeks while stars shown from his eyes, portraying the love affair he had with his instrument. She wanted to wrap her arms around him and tell him that her heart overflowed with pride and admiration. She wanted to tell him that she was honored to share the stage with someone who had as much talent as he did. Instead, she threw her arms in the air and exclaimed, “You’re amazing!”
Mason pulled her in for a quick hug, making her heart race. The scent of his labor made her woozy. It was masculine and musky, and she wanted to lean into his neck to get better acquainted with it. But she didn’t.
“That was fucking insane!” Lucas slapped Mason’s hand, also beaming at the most incredible drummer in the world. “You’re the master.”
Sindy raised her hand to give Mason a high five. “I’ve never seen anything like that.” Her eyes swept across the audience. “I don’t think any of them have either.”
