Page 9 of Reckless

“Fuck yeah,” Brian said, echoed by Nora.

“Let’s gooooo,” Nora called out, separating from them, grabbing her sticks from her tech, and slipped through the curtain that took her out on stage.

The audience cheered. Nothing crazy just yet. They were the opener. Hell, half the ticketholders weren’t even there at that point. Still, this was their chance to triumph or fail, so hopefully Harlow could get them to the end of their set and have made some new fans.

Nora settled in behind her kit and made a quick pass to let Brian know he was up next. And it helped them to get an idea of the time it took her to get there. Brian timed his entrance a few moments later, and when his bassline began, wrapping around Nora’s drumbeat, it was time for Harlow.

One last deep breath past her nausea and Harlow moved through. From backstage to center stage. She left her fear and her anxiety behind that curtain and embraced her badassed persona. Harlow had wanted this for as long as she could remember, and she was going to give it everything she had. Center stage Harlow didn’t worry about failure, pretended not to even notice those in the audience who weren’t even paying attention. They were hers to capture or not.

When she jumped up and down a few times once the driving beat of the song had begun, hit her distortion pedal, and grabbed their attention. And didn’t let go until she was ready.

Miles stood watching them play, impressed and beyond attracted to Harlow. The woman he’d hung out with earlier had turned his head for sure. But this? This was Harlow at a fifteen. She moved on stage with joy and confidence.

The confidence was what shot straight to his cock. Christ she was fucking amazing. She flirted with the audience but made it charming and funny instead of gross or cringe. They tossed the spotlight back and forth between the three in a way he knew took practice and thought, but made it look effortless.

At his side Maddie danced with Poppy as Silas watched Nora drum. Omar just took the whole scene in with the same ease he did everything else. But they all were into Above Me’s performance and clearly saw their hard work.

The light bouncing off the butterflies in her hair made it look like she was a flower and they fluttered around her head. The sparkling thing she wore over the purple dress she’d had on at dinner echoed that. That purple dress had called to his hands. It had taken all his willpower not to touch her and that silky fabric that had skimmed over her body.

Beyond that craving that she’d awakened when he’d watched that video six weeks before, there was something so professionally produced about them while they remained rebellious and young. Miles hoped the industry didn’t kill that. Harlow’s fire was delicious enough that he wanted to get close enough to scorch.

He needed to get his head on his own performance, so he gave Harlow a thumbs up when their set was over to very eager applause, but he and the rest of his band headed to their dressing rooms to handle last minute issues. Each of them had their own pre-show process and rituals so he found a quiet corner, put his headphones on and closed his eyes to meditate and focus.

It was an hour later when he changed into his performance gear and met the others for the walk up with Poppy guiding the way. His baby sister was utterly unflappable as she navigated them through, holding off hails and questions that weren’t urgent.

For the dozenth time that day alone he was glad she’d manipulated him into hiring her.

Once they’d gotten to the immediate staging area, their intro began to play and they were surrounded by techs helping them gear up. When he’d been seventeen or so, watching this happen to his dad, it had always felt like a gladiator getting ready for battle and that’s the emotional energy Miles tried to bring to their live shows.

Fans paid a lot of money to come to shows. They took time out of their daily lives to drive to an arena, pay another huge amount to park and then everything else inside the arena except water and the bathrooms cost more money. Miles didn’t want any of them to walk away feeling like they’d been cheated. Earthquakes owed them their absolute best every performance, no matter what, and that’s what they all committed to do.

They jumped in place as Omar chanted what Miles thought of as their battle cry. Essentially a checklist of what they needed to do.

Play hard.

Play loud.

Give it a hundred.

Over and over as the four of them did a call and response until they cheered and were ready to get out there and do it.

The intro music died down and the crowd cheered and then got silent as the panels behind Silas’s drum set slid apart to show them standing there.

Omar teased the open of three different songs as they all came on stage. The silence erupted into monstrous applause and the booming vibration of stomping feet.

This was magic. This moment was unlike anything else he’d ever experienced and he was so damned grateful for it. The crowds, the lights, not an empty seat. He’d loved playing live music since he’d been a teenager and getting to do this so many times every year was the best thing ever.

“Hey there, San Francisco,” Maddie said and then they launched into “Cuts Me Up”, a hard and fast number from their first album and a fan favorite.

They sang along, the crowd knowing every pause, every word and snarl.

When he held back on the chorus of “Shine Though” the audience took over every sigh and growl. Joy was a bright, warm sun in his belly when he turned and caught sight of Harlow off to the right. She’d changed into jeans and a t-shirt, but the butterflies were still in her hair as she moved her hips to the music and sang along.

Something she’d already awakened in him stretched out a little more, pleased as fuck that she was there enjoying herself.

Two hours later, a sweaty, tired, but very happy Miles and the rest of Earthquakes debriefed with their sound engineer and techs before heading off to shower and change into regular clothes.

He saw Harlow at the end of the hallway and called her name, jogging over.

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