Page 101 of One Week Wingman

“And they’ll get one, if you send me up there.” I gulp, looking around at the bar full of cool, stylish people out on a Saturday night. This isn’t some coffeeshop open-mic night in the depths of Greenpoint, this is the hottest bar in town, complete with all my friends, and the Mavericks guys watching. “Do you want a hundred people to witness me puke my guts out with stage fright?”

“You can do this,” she urges. And from somewhere behind me, Daisy pitches in too.

“Of course she can.” Daisy places her hands on my shoulders and steers me towards the makeshift stage area that’s been cleared in the corner. “You were amazing at Mom and Dad’s party, and that night at the bar. She’ll do it,” she tells Piper.

“No, I can’t!” I wrack my brains, trying to think of a good excuse. “I don’t have my guitar!”

But Piper just blinks. “Isn’t that one yours?” she says with a grin, pointing to the guitar that’s propped, waiting by a stool and microphone stand.

I do a double take. It’s the Fender from the music store in Ashford Falls. The guitar I played and loved but could never afford.

“I don’t understand…” I say, my head spinning.

“Understand later,” Piper smiles, then she drops her voice. “Look, if you really can’t do this, you don’t have to. But if you want to perform… Now’s your chance. Are you in?”

My heart races. I look at the guitar again, and then the crowd.

Now’s my chance…

“I’m in,” I blurt, without thinking.

“Yes!” Piper whoops. “Knock ‘em dead!”

I feel a tremble of panic, but there’s no time to take it back, because Piper is already stepping up to the microphone and whistling for silence.

The bar quiets, and everyone turns.

“We have a very special guest tonight,” Piper tells the room loudly. “And I know you’re going to love her. In fact, most of you already know and love her, so this should be fun.”

I smile as I hear Daisy’s distinctive whoop.

“Give it up…. for Roxy King!” Piper says, presenting me like a gameshow host.

And then it’s just me, standing there in front of everyone. About to make the biggest fool of myself…

… Or blow them all away.

My stomach swoops as I step up to the mic, looping the guitar strap over my shoulders. It feels familiar in my hands, but not enough to quell my nerves. I can feel my heartbeat pounding. Panic flickers, threatening to overwhelm me.

And then I see Sebastian in the crowd. Dark hair falling floppy in his eyes, watching me with a soul-shaking look on his face. Focused, like nobody else exists.

“You’ve got this,” he mouths, flashing me a smile.

And everything else melts away. There’s only him, and the guitar in my hands, and that prickle of anticipation that tells me, I’m really going to do this.

I close my eyes and start to play.

“You were so good!”As soon as I get down from the stage, Daisy pounces and hugs me, squeezing me so hard, I have to wheeze for air.

“Daisy? Dais!” I manage to break free. My legs are like jelly, but I’m flying high, adrenaline pumping through my whole body like a drug.

My actual performance is pretty much a blur to me now, but I can see from the smiles and cheers in the crowd, I pulled it off.

No,I killed it.

Like I just ran a marathon. Climbed Mount Everest. Did some other wildly improbably, totally impossible thing.

And damn, it feels amazing.

---