Spotlight by Eden Finley Page 0,30

can drop him at home before I go to the club, my head is a complete mess. Over someone I’m trying to convince myself I should be into.

I’m more focused on Cash seeing me perform than the actual date part.

The small club I gig at has never seemed so daunting.

I’d never experienced stage fright before until I’d started auditioning for label execs. The same crippling pressure I feel when enduring an audition washes over me as the smell of stale alcohol hits my nose.

This is my stage. My safe space. But that’s still not enough to settle the nerves.

Music is in my blood. It’s what I’ve always wanted to do.

But the fear of getting it the wrong way, taking a wrong turn, making my father proud while simultaneously disappointing my mother … it bears down on me at the worst times.

I already need a fucking drink, and I just walked through the doors.

Calm the fuck down, Lyric. He’s probably not even going to show up.

I go backstage and freak out some more, clicking my fingers like it’s a nervous tic. Lucky I’m a solo act or I’m sure my bandmates would want to murder me by now. I’m even annoying myself.

Click, click, click. But I can’t stop.

One of the bartenders, Alex, pops his head in the back room. “You will never guess who’s here.”

“Please don’t say Cash Kingsley. Please don’t say Cash Kingsley,” I mutter.

“Holy shit, how’d you know?”

My gut churns, but it’s not in the gentle butterflies kind of way. “He’s here for me.” For some fucked-up reason.

In what world is the lead singer of Cash Me Outside here for me?

“And you didn’t tell us?”

“I didn’t know if he’d turn up!” I pace the small room.

“You need a drink?”

“Make it a triple.”

He whistles but disappears, coming back right away.

By the time I down the drink and make my way out onto the stage with my guitar, I’m pretty sure I’m close to losing the contents of my stomach.

If this were a normal date, like going to dinner or whatever, I wouldn’t be this rattled. Having the lead singer of one of the biggest acts in the country sitting there waiting to listen to me … This can’t be real.

I’m thankful the stage lights are blinding and I can’t see Cash. But I know he’s out there, and my first song, a cover of the Lumineers’s “Sleep on The Floor” is croaky and a little off-key.

My heart pounds.

Fuck.

Shake it off, Lyric.

Alex appears at the side of the stage with another drink.

I cheers him and down it before kicking into my next song which is marginally better.

The stage lights are hot, and I sweat through my shirt.

By the time I’m halfway through my set, I’ve forgotten all about Cash. Maybe that’s because Alex appears every few songs with a new drink for me.

I should be strong enough to turn them down, but yeah, that’s not gonna happen with where my head’s at.

And then when I finish up my last song, I realize how much of a blur the whole performance was.

I don’t know if it’s from the alcohol or adrenaline.

I’m wobbly on my legs as I leave the stage and head for my dressing room.

Backstage, the room spins.

It’s the alcohol. Definitely the alcohol.

I grip the edge of the counter and squeeze my eyes shut, trying to get the room to stop spinning.

“Hey, man, you were great out there.”

I turn to find a blurry Cash standing in the doorway. “Uh, thanks. I was … kinda shaky.”

Cash smiles. “Stage fright?”

“Nerves.”

His smile widens. “About lil ol’ me?”

“Maybe.”

“I’m kinda wondering how you’re still standing. I’ve never had that much to drink onstage in my life, and that’s saying something because the guys are always telling me to cut back on the scotch. And beer. Tequila. Sometimes vodka.”

I nod, but that makes the room extra spinny. “Complete honesty, I don’t drink much. Like ever.”

My eyes lose focus on Cash as he splits into two people and my vision goes wonky.

The two Cashes step forward. “Hey, are you okay?”

I stand up straighter. “I’m fine. Totally cool. Cool, cool, cool, cool, cool.”

Only, I’m not cool.

Nowhere near cool.

I feel it happening. The vomit rising.

My gut churns, and my throat seizes up.

There’s nothing I can do to stop it.

And that’s how I end up throwing up all over my idol’s shoes.

Chapter Nine

Ryder

I’m the biggest moron on the planet because I know how Cash operates. He’s smooth and charming, and he’ll use Lyric, then disappear. The only reason he wanted a