Page 81 of The Déjà Glitch

“You are?”

“Of course I am. You totally deserve that job, and you will be amazing at it. The institute is lucky to have you.”

He was speechless for long enough that Gemma heard a PA system in the background call out a passenger’s name.

“Get out of there, Patrick. Go check into a hotel and sleep for a week like you said you wanted to.”

“I might need two weeks after all this...” She heard the smile in his voice.

“Take as long as you need but let me know when you’re heading home.”

“I will. Have fun at the show, Gem.”

“Bye, Patrick. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

They hung up, and Gemma hoped they weren’t fated to communicate only by phone and video calls for the rest of their lives.

She took a breath, satisfied with the loops she had closed with both her father and brother. Around her, she noticed the hall had cleared out and the walls had stopped vibrating. The dulled roar of a live show had shifted to the much softer sound of the background music pumped through speakers between acts.

The openers had finished their set.

Nigel was on next.

Electric anticipation filled the air, and Gemma could almost taste it. Her heart rate picked up and she smiled. It was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for more than one reason, and she wasn’t going to miss it for anything.

CHAPTER

14

Gemma and Lilastood in the wings, stage right, as Nigel opened the show. She’d had front-row tickets to plenty of shows plenty of times in her life, but watching the set from behind the scenes was an unrivaled experience. It was like being inside a living thing. She was standing right on top of the source of the lights and sounds filling the air. Her heart beat in sync with the drums, and every lyric felt like it originated inside her own head. Nigel was mere feet away, giving his all to a screaming crowd of thousands. Her inner seven-year-old self was overwhelmed with excitement, and her thirty-two-year-old self could hardly contain it.

Nigel’s set looked like a shabby living room assembled onstage: antique rugs covering all the power cords lacing the floor like veins, a couch no one was sitting on, an array of funky floor lamps. It didn’t really make any sense and yet it was perfect. The drummer sat up on a small platform behind the couch; the keyboards were to his right alongwith a trio of backup singers. The bassist and guitar players roamed their respective sides of the stage, moving with the music, and Nigel stood in the center of it all, the star and source of light.

For his second song, he launched into the one Gemma’s father had put on the record player that afternoon. The memory it always filled her with, something sweet and delicate, took on a new flavor that made it even better. She gripped Lila’s hand as they belted out the lyrics with Nigel, completely drowned out by the deafening amplifiers and lost in the delirium of his performance, which was good since Gemma did not pride herself on her singing voice.

Lila had stopped streaming because, as she had shouted to Gemma as they’d entered the stage, it would rob the moment of exclusivity, and Gemma had to agree. Broadcasting their backstage access to hundreds of thousands of people who weren’t there would defeat the purpose of the experience being special. Lila had been taking pictures and videos to post later, but the moment they were in was for them and them only. It was one of the most thrilling things Gemma had ever experienced.

She looked out over the crowd at the seats carved into the hillside that disappeared into the night. The stage lights shined pulses of color, turning all the faces and raised arms into a glowing, swaying rainbow. The energy coming from them was as powerful as what was leaving the stage, the two meeting in the night air with the force of an electrical storm. Gemma studied a few faces in the front row. Each of them sang along like she did, adding their voice to the chorus of fans caught up in the spirit of it all. Though they’d nevermet, she felt like she knew every one of them. In that moment, their love of Nigel unified them, strangers from all walks. And that was the ultimate beauty of music.

When the song finished off with a crash and a roaring cheer from the crowd, Nigel paused to address the audience. His question of “How’s everybody doing tonight?” was met with thunderous cheering. He wiped his brow with his arm and gulped at a water bottle he then tossed back onto the couch. He moved back to the microphone and Gemma, Lila, and seventeen thousand strangers hung on his every word.

“Thank you so much for coming out tonight!”

The crowd screamed. Gemma cupped her hands around her mouth and joined them.

“Now listen, listen,” Nigel said, holding up a hand to calm them. “We don’t normally do this, but we’ve decided to add a song to the set this evening. You see, there’s someone very special here, a new friend of mine, and I’ve been asked by averypersistent young fellow to dedicate this song to her. I have to say, this one is a bit of a stretch for us, but what the hell. Gotta love love, right?!”

Nigel turned and pointed right at Gemma and gave her a wink. She didn’t even know he knew she was standing there. Then he turned around to face his bandmates and bobbed his head to count off the song.

When the opening notes of Gemma’s favorite song—the one that had been following her all day—came out of Nigel’s guitar in a roughed-up, sexy cover, she almost fainted.

“No.Way,” Lila said beside her, her jaw unhinged. She sucked in the biggest gasp of her life before she screamed,“THIS IS OUR SONG!”

Gemma was too stunned to process what was happening.Nigel Black, rock legend, was covering a fifteen-year-old Top 40 pop hit. The moment was beyond special. It was the one and only time the song would ever be played this way. The only evidence of it would be stories from people who’d been at the show and the several thousand social media posts that would come later, and none would be as good as being there in the moment.

Nigel kept singing the saccharine pop lyrics in his gravelly voice. They’d slowed the tempo and scratched it up like someone had taken car keys to a shiny paint job, and it had no business sounding so damn good. Gemma would have pulled out her phone to record it if her heart weren’t suddenly pounding.

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