the details of his tattoo on the inside of his right forearm dance across his arm as he flexes his arms and fingers. I’m close enough to see that even though he just stepped on stage, a light shimmer of sweats drips across his hairline. Last night he seemed approachable, maybe even boyish. But tonight on stage, he looks intimidating, commanding, and shockingly, I admit to myself, breathtakingly gorgeous. I gulp, swallowing a lump in my throat, suddenly understanding why Mia has had a framed picture of him next to her bed for the last several years.
Mia laughs at me while nudging me with her hip, but my eyes are focused on the man on center stage. He wears an amused smile, perhaps enjoying the banter of the crowd. His eyes however, are fixed on me. Like they are penetrating every pore of my body and soul. He looks as if he is almost daring me to run and escape him while I still have the chance but the intensity has me completely frozen.
It feels like he is the only other person in the entire arena. I can focus on nothing except him. I swallow deeply, my throat and entire mouth suddenly dry. He looks up at the crowd briefly and then back to me. I wonder if he feels the same intensity, the same power as I do. He blinks once, then twice, and some of the intensity diminishes. At least enough to remember there was a crowd of thousands listening to him.
The bass drum begins a deafening steady beat that almost exactly matches the beat of my own heart.
I hear Mia try to yell something in my ear next to me that sounds like “told ya' he wants you” but I can’t make out her words over the noise of the crowd. I can only hold her arm for support while she moves to the music and belts out the lyrics now filling the enormous arena. The music is loud, but slow and has a soulful sound to it. It’s the perfect blend of alternative and folk rock and I love it. Every single song.
I am having fun. For the second time in over a year and three months, and it feels great. The knowledge ushers in a sense of freedom and before long, I lose myself to the music and atmosphere along with thousands of other singing women and men.
After the band leaves the stage after their second encore song, Mia pulls me into a tight embrace, "That was awesome! Thank you so much for coming! Did you like them? I told you Zack wanted you, he could barely keep his eyes off of you the entire time he was up there. What'd you think, seriously?"
I roll my eyes at her ramblings but smile and join in her laughter. "That. was. wonderful. I can't remember the last time I have had so much fun."
Right as I let go of her hug, I feel a tap on my shoulder, and turn around. A burly man with a bright yellow shirt stands in front of us, smiling. SECURITY is written across his massive chest in large black letters.
"Zack wants me to escort you two back stage. They need to go to the dressing rooms and get cleaned up, but he said he’d join you in the common room when they’re done."
Without warning, he lifts us over the railing while the concert goers around us moan and beg to come along. Mia holds my hand as we follow the security guard down a back hallway, and this time, I am pretty sure I squeal right along with her.
"So, what'd you think?" Jake asks as he pushes off a door and walked towards us. He looks freshly showered and I briefly wonder where the rest of the band is.
"It was great, really. You guys put on a great show," I respond while smiling at him.
“Come on, I’ll lead you to the common room.”
“What’s the common room?” Mia asks.
“It’s just a large area we hang out after the shows. All the fans with backstage passes can come back and meet us. Or the media that’s here for an interview. It’s like a post-show party every night.”
“Wow,” I say. It’s all I can say, really. In all my years of concert going, I never imagined I’d be backstage at a sold out rock concert. I almost want to pinch myself to see if this is some strange dream. Instead I just look at