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Sterling’s voice held a tiny note of questioning. It didn’t sound like he was asking about work things. It sounded like he was asking for a date. Reese couldn’t look at him. She didn’t know what emotion was on her face, but she suspected one that would reveal exactly how much that idea excited her.
“Whatever works for you,” she said, trying to sound casual. He shifted next to her, leaning so that his face was in her peripheral, pulling her gaze. She turned and he was grinning, that same genuine smile she had only seen a handful of times.
“Let’s get through tonight and we’ll talk,” Sterling said. “Wish me luck?”
“Luck,” she said, but her voice was little more than a whisper as he got up and left with the rest of the band. He didn’t need it, but Reese had a feeling that she might.
* * *
Sterling hadn’t felt this kind of fire in years. As the last note rang out in the encore, the crowd continued to roar. Audiences were smart now; some of them were already filing out of the amphitheater as Sterling shouted, “Good night, Atlanta! Thanks for being the first stop on the tour. You were amazing!”
But as he pulled out his earpiece and ducked off the stage, sweat dripping from his hair, it sounded like most of the crowd had stayed in place. They were still shouting and stamping and clapping. Morgan gave him a side hug.
“Ew. You’re disgusting. But good job,” she said.
Sterling grinned and flicked sweat in her direction as she pulled away. He caught sight of Reese and he stepped toward her. Her eyes lit up.
“That was completely amazing,” Reese said. “You were amazing.”
“Hey, now. You mean we were all amazing, right?” Moby wiped his face with a towel.
“Of course. That was a plural you. Y’all were amazing. You know, the crowd hasn’t moved. Isn’t there usually just one encore?”
Sterling peeked around where he could see the amphitheater. It was still packed. Only a handful of people were filing toward the exits. The rest still faced the stage on their feet. Even the people on the lawn were standing. Sterling had only seen this kind of reaction a few times. A hand touched his arm. He looked down to see Reese’s fingers brushing his arm. She pulled back when he noticed and bit her lip.
“You know, this might be a good time to introduce them to some of your new stuff. I know you wanted a new sound. Do you have new songs? This crowd will eat out of your hand. Whatever you feed them. It would be perfect. I mean, if you want to do that.”
Sterling’s nerves sang. He had a gut-level reaction to say yes. He looked to Morgan. “What do you think, boss? New song?”
“We don’t know the new stuff,” Moby said. “It would just be you and your guitar.”
Morgan looked at Sterling, then looked out at the crowd, still mostly on their feet, cheering. “If so, you need to go right now before they lose momentum.” She turned to Reese. “You think this is a good idea?”
Reese gestured toward the amphitheater. “I think they want more. You want to get people on board with a new sound? This crowd would be on board with whatever you gave them right now. Give them something new. Make them feel special.”
“She’s right,” Morgan said, shoving him. “Get out there, big guy.”
Sterling hesitated for approximately half a second and then jogged out onto the stage with a smile on his face. The crowd erupted and he spent a minute bowing up front, smiling and waving. Morgan or Moby must have talked to the stage crew because they brought out a stool and one of the guys was tuning his Taylor acoustic. Sterling stepped to the mic and held up a hand. The crowd stilled and he could feel the magnetic pull between them, that rare thing that he always hoped for but didn’t always experience.
“You guys have been so incredible. Would it be okay if I did something a little special for you? I’ve got some songs no one has heard before. You want to be the first?”
Again, they went wild. The crowds at the back started settling in, sitting back down on the ground, seeming to pick up on the vibe as the stage hand gave him the acoustic guitar. Sterling put the ear piece back in and spoke, leaning away from the mic. “You with me, Mike? I know we didn’t prep for this.”
“Please. The day I can’t handle a girl with a guitar, shoot me.”
Sterling laughed and leaned forward toward the mic again. “This one is called ‘Voiceless.’ I hope you love it.’”
As Sterling strummed the first chords, the crowd stilled. But that electric connection was still there and it felt like they were holding their collective breath as he began to sing. He went through three of his new songs and probably could have done a few more, but it was a good idea to leave them wanting more, to leave while things were on the upswing.
As the last note of the third song echoed through the amphitheater, Sterling looked up. Normally he watched the crowds as he sang, but for this last little set, he had mostly kept his eyes closed. The newest songs he wrote were gut-wrenching for him, most of them focused on the pain he had been feeling going through what felt like the complete loss of his sister May and the family division. Some were about his dad, something he hadn’t written about before. They were raw and had a depth that some of his other songs lacked. It was cathartic to sing through the pain.
His eyes felt damp as he stared out over the faces. Panic squeezed his stomach. No one had moved. The crowd was totally still.
This had been a mistake. The music was too different from his normal sound. This was a rock crowd and he played a fully acoustic set. It probably sounded totally unprofessional. Like an open mic night. Sterling swallowed and got to his feet.
The space completely erupted. The cheering was different somehow. Just as charged as it had been, but he could see a few people wiping their eyes as well. They had gotten it.
Sterling put the guitar in the stand and walked forward to the very edge of the stage, where the people in the very front area could almost touch him. He waved and then put his hands together and took a little bow. People stood in their seats, but they weren’t moving to the exits, even though now the concert had gone on twenty minutes longer. They stood and they cheered for him.
