When the song ends, the entire stadium goes quiet.
“Wow,” I say breathlessly. “I didn’t expect to cry quite so early in the night. Thank you for that. I will cherish this memory for the rest of my life. That song is deeply meaningful to me,and there was a time when I thought I might never get to sing it again. So… thank you.”
“This next one is for my buddy Aiden.” I find him in the VIP tent with Liam and Connor, and blow him a kiss. It’s his first concert, and I’m honored that it’s one of mine. “It’s called Starlight.”
As we reach the end of the show and the last lyrics to “Bad Bitch Scorned” slowly fade out, the crowd erupts into cheers and applause. I hand my guitar off to the roadie and pull the glitter mic off its stand.
It’s my favorite part of the show, and they know it. There’s another round of chants and cheers as the screens behind me start panning the crowd for signs.
I step to the edge of the extended part of the stage that juts out into the pit and read the first one. “‘Can we take a selfie to send to my cheating boyfriend?’ Oh, hell yes! Does he know you know?”
Nico hands the fan a mic. She’s young—maybe mid-twenties. She’s wearing a replica of my music video outfit, complete with the leather vest and bell-bottoms. “He’s here with his lover.”
The chorus of boos echoes through the stadium, and I join in with them. “No fucking way. Where is he?”
“He’s up in the cheap seats and I’m in the pit,” she says in an enthusiastic singsong voice.
The boos quickly turn to cheers, and I give her a one-woman standing ovation. “You’re a badass. Nico, bring her up here.”
He lifts her over the barricade, and I bring her to the centerof the slightly raised platform with me, wrapping one arm around her shoulders. She holds up her phone, and we smile for the selfie. I prompt her to hold up her middle finger, and we take another one, flipping off the camera. I pull her in for a hug, and she thanks me before heading back to the pit.
“There’s nothing like a bad bitch scorned, am I right, Nashville?”
The audience response is deafening. It takes a minute or so for them to quiet back down.
The next sign is one I’ve seen a lot in my career. “Will you write my next tattoo?” I crouch down and reach for the sign as Nico hands me a Sharpie.
“Just so we’re on the same page, I need to remind you that tattoos are permanent.” Laughter erupts as the fan nods animatedly. “Alright. If you’re sure. Let’s do this. Do you want me to write anything special?”
She screams something over the noise, but I can’t quite make it out.
I look around for the mic, but it’s still on the other side of the stage. “Sorry, say that again?”
The small gathering around her screams with her, and this time, I get it.
I write ‘Bad Bitch’ in cursive, and again in print, then sign my name on the back of the poster. “I never claimed to have good handwriting, so I will not blame you one bit if you don’t want this on your body,” I say, handing the sign back to Nico. The fan blows me a kiss, and I hold my hands against my heart before moving on.
Nico follows me around the stage as I search out another one. I hold the mic up to my lips, but the audience goes wild before I can read off the sexual innuendo I have my sights set on. I spin to check the screens, uncertain what has them so animated.
Aiden.
I forget how to breathe.
I spin back around to find the camera that has him in its sights, and lock eyes with my favorite kid. He’s at the front of the pit on top of Connor's shoulders, wearing a silver sequin blazer and a bow tie, holding up a homemade sign that says, ‘Will you marry my dad?’
My heart leaps into my throat, and my vision blurs as I continue staring at the little boy I love so much. The mic near my lips isn’t doing me any good as I struggle to find the words to answer the most monumental question of my entire life.
I look around for Liam, but he’s not there.
The stadium quiets, and I’m sure they can hear my heart beating out of my chest. I cover my mouth and shake my head, laughing. This is absurd. This can’t be real.
My gaze zeros back in on Aiden as if we’re the only two people in the arena. “Hey, little dude. Where’s your dad?”
There’s a collective gasp, and I glance over my shoulder. My hands shake uncontrollably as Liam strides over to me with purpose, a small smile playing on his perfectly handsome face.
I turn my back to the crowd and try to steady my breathing. My heart feels like it’s beating out of my chest trying to meet him halfway, but the rest of me is frozen on the spot. When Liam reaches me, he drops to one knee and holds out a velvet ring box. Inside, there’s a pear-shaped ruby on a gold band with a halo of diamonds around the center stone. It’s beautiful, but it doesn’t come close to the sight of Liam down on bended knee.
Is this real life?
