behind the brush making faux roaring noises. “The crowd goes wild for Jamieson. Rrrrrr.” He walked center stage, in front of the brush, and picked up a stick for a microphone.
“Jamieson has entered the building.” He raised his hands toward the sky and let loose another crowd roar.
“The two milion mega watt lighting system kicks up.
Spotlights search the arena for the star. Lasers ripple through the air. Fog rises around the stage. The intro music builds.” Peter motioned dramaticaly to the trees and bushes around them as if this were the real deal.
“The cheers in the arena are deafening!” He waved his hands in the air again, making another rrr sound.
Libby laughed. Peter stepped forward onto his imaginary stage.
“The star! The legend! Feast your eyes on the world’s most talented singer, PETER JAMIESON!” He roared into the open expanse of nature.
“Girls are fainting at the mere mention of his name,” he whispered to the side.
Libby watched as Peter paced his mock stage, setting the scene.
“First starts the tinkling of piano keys, the lights pick up the beat.” His fingers played the imaginary piano and then motioned at pretend lights.
“Bass guitarist, Garrett, the pock-faced boy, enters the mix.” She giggled.
“Next lead guitarist, adolescent voyeur Adam, adds his soulful sound. And then . . .” Peter held the fake microphone like a pro and started to sing.
Peter’s pure voice rang through the woods. Libby watched, so overwhelmed by his talent that the words didn’t register. Al she could do was watch his moves, his stance, and listen to his amazing voice. Libby sat dumbstruck in the pine needles and leaves.
“Here’s where the drums take the beat, ‘ch cha cha, ch cha cha, ch cha cha.’” He played the imaginary drum. “The guitars come in, tinka ting, tinka ting, and Peter Jamieson fades to the back, giving his mediocre brothers a chance to shine.” He rewarded her with a wink.
“And then, the melody takes back the night.” He stood atop an old falen log and sang, his entire body creating the percussion that went unheard. It captivated Libby, and transported her to the concert hal.
“Then to seal the deal, the Boy Wonder awes the audience with his world-class flying eagle.” Peter jumped high into the air above her, reached out and touched his toes.
Libby’s eyes folowed him like an awestruck fan.
He landed and picked up the song again, gesturing the percussion and guitar licks as he went.
Peter’s talent far exceeded her wildest imagination. He was an incredibly gifted performer and she never understood it until now. Sure he was wel known, but it never affected her. Time and distance was their barrier, nothing else. She had never witnessed it firsthand. His cute, cocky performance revealed only a smal hint of the talent flowing just beneath the surface. His voice held power and confidence and moved her to tears.
“Hey, I’m ready for the big finish.” Peter posed, feet set wide apart, his fake mic replaced with a long walking stick. He gripped the mock mic stand firmly and leaned to the side, his body kept the beat.
He looked up from his rocker pose. “What’s wrong?” Libby covered her mouth with her hand.
Peter rushed over and squatted before her. “What’s the matter? Was I that bad?”
“That’s not funny.” She pushed out at him, as tears weled in her eyes.
“I’m sorry. Garrett can’t help playing so bad.” His joke hit the mark and she laughed, then took a deep breath. “I didn’t realize.” She shook her head. “That you’re so good.” She couldn’t help but feel devastated. Her life was so tiny and unimportant and his was over-the-top huge. Peter didn’t belong with her. He should be with a famous model or actress.
He knelt before her and took her hands in his. “What are you talking about?” He looked deep into her eyes. “I’m stil me.
Nothing’s changed. This is just another part of my life.” He gripped her hands firmly. “Heck, I wasn’t that great, the band isn’t very good today.” A grin curled his lips and his eyes sparkled.
She laughed and he delivered another mega-watt smile. Libby gazed at him, muling her decision to open up or not. The honesty and trust in his eyes made her decision.
“You don’t belong with me.” It hurt to say it, but she had to tel him the truth.
“What are you talking about?” He sat down, one leg on each side of her, creating a warm cocoon.
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me.” What an understatement.
He nodded in