“What? And miss out on the full Saff Barnes show? I’ll be front and centre if you want me.”
“I always want you.”
As I melted into his body, Darren wolf-whistled from the stage.
“Put him down, Saff. You don’t know where he’s been,” he said, with a laugh.
“You could say the same about Saff.” Scott Lincoln’s dulcet tones cut the air. He swaggered across to us, glass of whisky in one hand, cigarette in the other despite the ‘No Smoking’ signs plastered around the club.
“Fuck off.”
“Oh, such choice language from such a lady.”
“Leave her alone, Scott. I think she’s made her feelings towards you clear enough.” Tris stood between us, shielding me from the singer.
Scott snorted. “She certainly did the other night, mate. Guess she wasn’t missing you as much as she made out.”
I knew Scott was only trying to stir things up between Tris and me, but it still didn’t stop me wanting to deck him. If it wasn’t for the fact I didn’t want to let Jonas down—again—I would have walked out there and then.
I’d had enough of Scott Lincoln and his shit.
With the late sound check, it only seemed a few minutes before we were back on stage performing again. As per his promise, Tris was right in the front, staring up at me while I did my thing.
As it was the last night of the tour, I really let go, taking the performance to another level, really riffing off Darren and Barney, even Tommo. Adrenaline pumped through my veins and I pushed my voice almost to the point of hoarseness. I span around the tiny stage, practically falling over on my heels. Now wouldn’t be a good time to break an ankle.
When it came time to sing the song I’d written for Tris, I stilled. I stood centre stage, bathed in a solo spotlight and put every single emotion I had into the words.
Saviour. Surprise. Salvation.
He was all of those things to me. Everything.
As the final chords died down around me, the audience erupted.
Breathing heavily, I met Tris’ eyes.
He touched his fingers to his lips and blew me a kiss.
My legs wobbled.
Fuck, I loved that man so much.
Darren counted us in for the last song we’d do on this tour and I shook myself back to the present. Now wasn’t the time for an emotional breakdown. I had to get through this and one more appearance with Scott.
Then we could go home.
Not ten minutes later, we were backstage. All of us were in high spirits and nothing could bring me down, not even Scott Lincoln and his attitude.
“You ready?” he slurred in my direction. Clearly, he’d been drinking throughout our set and seemed unsteady on his feet.
I was already dreading going out on stage with him.
The wait untilWasted By My Sideseemed to go on forever. I could make out Scott chatting between songs, getting more and more incoherent the longer it went on. The guys were already making inroads into the beer in the dressing room. The Matchbox were hosting the after party and had already laid on some drinks. I was going to need something the minute I’d finished singing again.
Finally, the roadie who had signalled me on each night came to get me.
“As it’s our last night, I’d like to welcome back on stage thewonderfulSaff Barnes who has agreed to help me out on this song.” Scott gestured to me, then waved his arm back at the crowd to encourage more cheering. “I think you know the one I mean.”
The cheers intensified as the opening chords started. Never had I been so grateful to hear them. It would be the last time I’d have to sing it.
