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CHAPTER ONE
Tears blurred my vision as I stared motionless at the single black scuff mark on the otherwise pristine white wall in front of me. I was on my knees, my mind numb to the worrying news I had heard and what it meant for us. Distracting myself, I reflected on earlier that night and images immediately began to float through my mind.
Earlier that evening
My aching limbs felt like lead weights, but my mental strength persisted, fueled by the vibrant energy of our chanting fans. Jogging back on stage, I stood beneath the relentless searing heat of the fifty plus spotlights. I was all but spent, my tired body running on pure adrenaline from the frenzied reaction of the crowd.
A single bead of perspiration coursed its way down my face and my heart pumped rapidly as I spotted Fletch grabbing his shiny black bass guitar.
Further wet droplets flew more freely from my dark, sweat-drenched hair as I nodded quickly at our drummer Scuds, then leaned forward, taking my old trusty Fender from its stand.
Lifting the frayed woven guitar strap over my head, I swiped up a towel from in front of the drum platform and rubbed vigorously at my face and hair.
Throwing it behind me, I plugged the jack from my rig into my guitar and spun around, flashing my practiced rock star smile as I addressed the eager faces of our most avid followers.
“What?” I goaded, addressing them by cupping the shell of my ear and pretending not to hear them. They roared in response. “You want some more?” I screamed into the mic, in no doubt they did. Their reaction was wild. I smirked knowingly and bobbed my head acknowledging their unified positive replies.
It had been almost two hours since our music lovers had risen to their feet at the sound of the first note we’d played, yet they had waited patiently after we’d left the stage, confident of their reward of one last number for their dedication to our band.
Casting my bleary eyes over the sea of jostling heads packed into the sweltering conditions of a sixteen-thousand capacity venue, I was reminded of how lucky I was. My racing heart clenched as I soaked in the enthralled mob’s admiration, then I struggled for a second when my throat tightened as an unexpected wave of emotion threatened to overwhelm me. Hearing the deafening roar of appreciation at the end of a tour always caught me unaware.
The venue management were pissed because we’d already overrun on the set time, plus we had another commitment to move on to. Yet who were we to deny the mass of adoring rock fans their one last treat? I raised my hand and my heart rate spiked as the rowdy cheers and whistles instantly died and the auditorium fell quiet.
Commanding the instant silence of a mass of people always made my heart falter. The quiet magnified my awareness of the electric anticipation of the excited horde as they held their breaths and waited for the intro to that one last song.
Stepping out to perform the swansong of any tour was always special. Especially when we knew the demand was for the number that started it all and the song that had kick started SinaMen on the road to success.
Encores were a common event for a famous band like us, but this time the last performance had more significance because it was the end of an era for me.
Thinking about the significance of the number as I prepared to perform, I turned and stole another glance at my beautiful wife, Grace, waiting patiently in the wings. My brow creased briefly with concern when my eyes connected with hers.
Grace rarely complained about anything, so I’d been watching her closely during the previous couple of weeks. The tour had taken its toll on my heavily pregnant wife; a stubborn woman, who had refused to quit traveling with me to rest.
Completing SinaMen’s tour in front of a lively audience made me thankful for life as a musician. The incredible opportunities it had afforded me sometimes took my breath away. Tonight was no exception, and with one last commitment before we went home, I felt relieved Grace had made it to the end of our road tour without any complications to add to her condition.
We were also thankful for the added bonus of finishing the tour in our home state because there was no long trip back at the end of a punishing three-week schedule. Playing eleven sold out venues and four jam-packed stadiums, with TV and radio station interviews in between, had left us with virtually no downtime to recover.
Cranking up my charisma, I connected with the rowdy concertgoers by pouring feeling into the song, whipping up their enthusiasm, and having them join in and belt out the chorus by pointing the microphone at them.
Their response produced an earsplitting rendition covering every single word on point like they were the rock stars themselves. When the song came to an end we didn’t drag out the curtain call. Instead the band gathered in a huddle at the front of the stage and bowed in unison. I looked again to my gorgeous attentive wife with a mixture of relief and excitement that we’d made it through to the last gig.
Wiping my face again, I threw my damp towel out into the crowd and a cacophony of sound swelled from the back of the auditorium, the deafening noise reaching me all the way at the front. I glanced down toward a young bottle blonde who had caught the discarded towel and she held it up to her face.
Women and men hit on me all the time and I never understood why someone would go nuts for my sweaty T-shirts and discarded towels. The last thing on Earth I’d want to own was a sweat-stained piece of material from anyone who wasn’t my wife.
Being groped by groupies and fans of all flavors annoyed me to no end. I was a married man, and where I used to suck it up and laugh it off when I was single, now all I wanted was Grace. She was my soulmate, my perfect match, and as everyone who knew us said, she was the better half of me.
In fact, when I’d met her, Grace had knocked me off my feet and taken my breath away, and before I knew it she’d quickly become my world. It hardly felt possible that two years had gone by since we’d married, because every day felt like a vacation with her around.
This is what made tonight’s concert even more special. Grace and I were stoked at the prospect of becoming doting parents, and in preparation of the baby’s arrival I’d taken a year’s paternity leave from the band.
Smiling widely, Grace looked radiant and happy as I walked across the stage. Sometimes when I looked at her, I almost busted a nut in my jeans she was so hot. Even after all this time she was still the most beautiful woman I’d ever encountered.
She looked striking with her long wild dark hair, cute as fuck button nose and massive almond-shaped eyes, and since she was pregnant, her huge round belly.
My heart flipped as she walked over toward me with those ruby-red lips framing her gorgeous mouth and I saw how the light caught the twinkle in her huge shining gray eyes. In that precise moment I had never felt more in love with Grace.
“You okay, Baby? Should we go home to bed?”
