Rock & Roll Nights: The Lila and Rivers Edit

26. Lila

26

LILA

T he venue that night was freaking amazing.

Look, I liked the small towns. I loved the little music halls and the random bars we’d been in at almost every place we stopped. I loved it even more when the audience was right there in front of the stage, able to interact with the bands as they played. Those were the sorts of places I’d played a million and one times back in Nashville, and though I wasn’t on the stage right now—this wasn’t, after all, a tour that actually featured me and Anna—I adored being in the audience for shows like that. You got to see the performers more closely, laugh with them when they messed up, and the whole thing was just...

So personal.

But tonight, we were in a bigger city and that meant a bigger venue. It meant a huge room with a bigger stage and—let’s face it—better soundproofing.

The first band, The Leathers, had played their loudest, most raucous music and wound the audience up with their sound, and by the time Global Authors got ready to go on stage, everyone was jumping and screaming and ready for some more rock and roll. Anna and I weren’t out there with the crowd, though. Instead, we were backstage, helping the stagehands move everything around and get the instruments and music equipment set up. I was rushing around with Molly, the girl who served as the Authors’ head roadie, responding to her shouted questions as quickly as I could.

“Where’s that fucking microphone Rivers likes so much?”

I rifled quickly through the sound equipment, knowing exactly which one she was talking about. For some reason, Rivers liked the oldest, most dilapidated microphone on tour, and we were always having to switch out the newer equipment to stuff that vibed with that old thing when he went onstage.

It was ridiculous and sort of hilarious and a running joke with the crew.

“No clue,” I said, coming to the end of the sound equipment and not finding it. “It’s not in here.”

“Shit,” she cussed, the word completely at odds with her wide-eyed, sleek-haired look. Then again, I’d known the girl long enough now to realize that though she might look innocent, she was anything but.

She was best friends with the band and evidently had been since they were kids. And she was the only one who could put them all in their place, no matter how ornery they were being. She was particularly good with the drummer, Noah, who was just as tough as he looked and smoked about thirteen packs of cigarettes a day. He seemed like the kind of guy who never, ever took advice from anyone and dared anyone to call him out on it.

Until Molly called him out on it. At which point he turned into a sulky little boy who’d do anything she told him to.

Which was, of course, hilarious.

She didn’t, though, have the same hold over Rivers, and I didn’t think she wanted to tell him that we didn’t have his microphone available.

“What’s the problem here?” another voice suddenly asked.

I turned and saw Taylor scooting through the backstage area, her hair coming down from her standard updo and her eyes bright and fiery.

“We can’t find Rivers’ microphone,” Molly said, hustling to another pile of stuff. “And we all know how he’s going to react to that.”

Taylor stared after Molly for a moment, her mouth open. “Then get him another one,” she said, acting like this was the simplest answer in the world. “Because they’re on in five minutes and we’ve got a very specific curfew tonight. We can’t push this show late. We don’t have time for Rivers to be spoiled.”

I opened my mouth to respond to that—he was one of the most popular people here, and surely we should go out of our way to make sure he had what he wanted when he was onstage—but then remembered the meeting I’d had with Taylor this morning.

She’d said she was done catering to him. Done with his shit. Because he was losing his value with his attitude.

She’d followed that up by telling me that it was my time to outshine him.

When she turned to me, her face lighting up like she’d just had the best idea in the world, I wanted to turn and run. I didn’t have to hear it to know that her bright idea was going to be something I didn’t necessarily like.

“You know what?” she snapped. “Screw that. Send him onstage with what we can find and tell him that he’s not going out there alone.”

“What?” Molly and I asked at the same time.

Taylor reached out and grabbed my arm, turning me and hustling me toward the stage. “Where’s your other half? Does she have her keyboard here? Because I’ve got an idea.”

“My other half? Her keyboard?”

I mean yeah, I knew exactly where Anna was. And I knew that she did in fact have her keyboard with her. It was stored with all the other musical equipment—and my guitar, which I kept with the Authors’ equipment and retrieved every night, just in case I woke up in the middle of the night and wanted to write something.

That didn’t mean I knew what Taylor was up to.

“Where’s your guitar?” she asked, like she was following the same mental path I’d already walked.

“Huh?” I asked, sounding just as gobsmacked as I felt.

“Your guitar. Sam!” she shouted over her shoulder. “Get this girl’s guitar from the room in the back! The Fender, right?” That part was directed at me, but she didn’t pause when I didn’t answer. “And get the keyboard too! We’re going to need them both.”

“We what?”

She spun me to look at her, and I saw right then how she’d risen so quickly in the music industry and made a name for herself as someone who could quite literally magic her way right into what she wanted. “Stop asking questions, Lila, and get yourself together. You and Anna are going onstage. If Rivers doesn’t have the microphone he wants, I’ll give someone else time in front of the crowd. And for right now, that someone else is you.”

She turned me back toward the stage and I had just enough time to see Anna in the wings on the other side of the stage, flirting with one of the other guys in the band, before my guitar was shoved into my hands and I found myself stumbling out onto the stage, courtesy of a healthy push from Taylor James.

* * *

“Um, hi,” I said into the microphone in front of me.

Anna, sitting to my right behind her keyboard, snorted at that and I sent her a narrow-eyed look.

“Do you want to make the introductions?” I hissed.

She sealed her lips and gave me a big-eyed look, leaving everything up to me, and I almost snarled at her. Anna was the more outgoing of the two of us and had always spoken for us before, and if we’d planned this, we would have had her up here explaining why we were onstage with the guys from Global Authors shuffling behind us and their lead singer missing.

Instead, she was leaving it up to me. Like I wasn’t already in over my head.

“Right, well I’m guessing you’re wondering who we are and what we’re doing up here when you’re expecting to see Global Authors,” I continued.

“Are you kidding?” a voice said. “I’m betting they know exactly who you are.”

I glanced over to see Matt, the bassist for the Authors, leaning up to his microphone and grinning at me. I grinned back, unable to stop myself. Matt was almost as good-looking as Rivers, but where Rivers was dark and brooding, Matt was dark and yet sunny at the same time. Always laughing. Always cracking jokes.

And lately, flirting with Anna any time he had a spare moment.

I looked from him to her and lifted my brows, and noted the flush creeping quickly up from the neckline of her blouse.

I laughed at that and turned back to the audience. “Okay, so maybe you know exactly who I am, but I’m guessing you’re still wondering what I’m doing here. The truth is, our friend Rivers is having a bit of a... um... equipment issue backstage, and since he’s back there being distracted, some of the management thought Anna and I could come out here and entertain you for a bit. Y’all ready for some down-home Nashville-style country? Because that’s what we’re about to give you.”

And at that, Anna and I launched into one of our best pieces—this part, at least, we’d discussed—and broke into song. This was a good one, a real love song but with a catchy, quick tempo, and before long the audience was stomping and clapping with us, their faces breaking into surprised grins. A moment later, a bass line broke in on the song and I glanced over, surprised. We didn’t have bass lines in our songs. They were written for guitar and keyboard only. But hearing the deeper, fuller sound was...

Really good.

Like, really good.

Matt grinned at me again, his fingers working his bass, and I tipped my head. Then there were drums. And then another guitar. They weren’t doing anything spectacular—nothing complicated—but they were filling in the gaps in our melody with simple notes.

Notes that worked.

And oh my God, Global Authors were playing one of our songs. With us.

My heart grew three sizes, making it feel like it was about to break, and I launched into the chorus with the biggest grin I’d ever worn.

When another voice joined mine, I thought I might actually explode. I looked to my left and saw Rivers walking out on stage, his guitar swinging from his shoulders and his favorite microphone—I guessed—in front of him as he tried to harmonize with me. Difficult, considering he didn’t even know the words, and honestly, I was surprised he was trying at all. This was the guy who’d barely talked to me in the last week and now he was faking the words to one of my songs so he could harmonize with me?

My eyes met his, and I felt a jolt go through me. All his focus was on me, the energy coming off him something nearly electric, and for a second my voice completely failed me. God, I wanted to run to him and jump into his arms. And I wanted to stand here and revel in the fact that he was actually looking at me. I wanted to shout at him for suddenly showing up like the entire last week hadn’t even happened.

Then he lifted one brow, I realized I’d stopped singing, and I turned back to the crowd and jumped into it again. Moments later I was lost in the song once more, my fingers working the strings on my guitar and my soul soaring up with the sound of the music. The audience was singing and stomping, dancing around, and I had the thought that this was it. This was what it would be like to play on a tour this big, with artists like this.

I moved toward Anna, wanting to share this with her, but ran right into someone who was already next to her. I realized in that moment that Matt had moved and was now standing right next to her, playing his bass like he was offering it up to her on a silver platter while she grinned madly at him, her eyes shining and her laughter sounding out across the stage.

She wasn’t even bothering with the words to the song anymore. She was completely smitten, and that was saying something when it came to Anna because she wasn’t a girl who shared her heart easily.

I started laughing, then, though my fingers kept moving on my guitar, and when I turned back to the microphone, I found Rivers’ eyes on Matt and Anna as well, his mouth stretching into a wide smile. He looked up and met my eyes, and then we were both grinning, the shared amusement at our friends’ antics bridging the distance he’d been building between us. It was the first time we’d really connected in a week, and I couldn’t believe how good it felt. I’d already thought I was flying with the music and the crowd, but now, with Rivers’ eyes on me, I felt like I was expanding and taking over the whole place. The boundaries of my body had disappeared, and I was a balloon filling with helium, about to take off and float up into the night sky.

Though I knew within moments of thinking it that I couldn’t let that happen.

Because I’d known Rivers long enough now to know that this moment might not mean anything at all to him. Or it might mean something right now... and he might decide to forget about those feelings in ten minutes.

He might decide to turn cold and distant again ten minutes after that.

I wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. I wanted to revel in this feeling of being in love. Get into it and splash around like a bird in a bird bath. Let it seep under my skin and fill me up and make me all floaty and happy and swoony.

But I’d be a fool to do that. I’d be a fool to believe in anything he gave me until he proved he was actually willing to follow through on what his face seemed to promise me. And I might be a girl who led with my heart and wanted to believe the best of everyone, but I was also smart enough to see what people were when they showed me.

So I turned off that need for love. I shied away from the need for connection. And instead of leaning into the heat coming off Rivers Shine, I looked out over the audience and brought the song home, knowing that this music—and that crowd—were the only things I could really count on.

Until he figured out what the hell he was doing and what it might have to do with me.