The ugliest me.”
Silence.
Never in my life has a silence been so penetrating.
“Wow.” I felt myself choking. “First time in my life I’ve ever been speechless.”
Sneaky thing, that move. Blindsiding me with emotions like that, on stage, when I can’t answer the way I’d like.
No applause. They were too moved, too stunned.
And then it hit all at once.
The standing ovation.
Not just a trickle-down, a few here and there—all at once, everyone, in unison got to their feet.
What a way to end the first show.
I stood up, took her hand, and walked her to the front of the stage. Stepped back and left her there. Let her soak up the fact that all this was forher.
It went on for what felt like minutes, and then I led her toward the curtains, pausing at the mic. “Thank you, love you guys, goodnight.”
She stumbled as I led her off-stage, and I had a feeling she was shell-shocked. Got her off-stage and away from the lights and the bustle, to a quiet sliver of darkness between two semi-trailers for our set and sound equipment. She slumped backward against the trailer wall and buried her face in her hands, and began shaking.
I wasn’t sure at first if she was crying or laughing, but it soon became clear she was definitelynotlaughing. Sobbing.
“Lex?”
She shook her head.
I crouched in front of her. “Lex. Why are you crying? That was fuckin’ amazing. Theylovedyou.”
“I wasn’t…ready,” she said, hiccupping. “I fucked up like six times. Skipped an entire verse of the first song.”
“Not even I could tell,” I said. “They fuckin’lovedyou out there, Lex. That was a show-stealer.”
Her head went up, eyes fierce. “I didn’twantto steal the show from you, Myles! I wasn’tready!”
“You’re never ready!” I shot back. “You would never have been ready. You think I was ready? I went from dive bars to stadiums in record time. I had no idea what I was doing, but I knew it was what I was meant to be doing.”
“That’s you,” she snapped. “Not me.”
“Itisyou,” I said. “That’s what you’re meant to do, Lex.” I cupped her face. “You can’t tell me that didn’t feel amazing while you were out there.”
“It felt like I was about to barf and piss myself at the same time. You did the grind, Myles. Day after day, week after week, year after year, playing, learning how to perform, being in front of people, doing what you love to do, what you chose to do. You were an overnight success that took—what?—a fucking decade of slogging along in dive bars to achieve?” She tapped her chest. “I didn’t have that. You think you went from dive bars to stadiums in record time? I went from not ever having played on a stage before, with no one even knowing I’m a musician—” she gestured at the Tokyo Dome, “tothat. Never playing for anyone, never being recorded, nothing. Playing alone in a bathroom because I can’t help but need to play and sing...alone in a bathroom because…because I fuckingsuck, Myles. I’m nothing. No one.” She was sobbing, words scraping out past harsh breath and ragged sobs. “My dad said it, and he was right. I’m no good. They didn’t love me—they lovedyou. If they liked anything about me, it’s just because ofthis—” and she cupped and shook her tits, “and this,” and slapped her bare thigh near her hip, “andthis,” and she tugged on her hair.
That made me angry.
“You really believe that?”
“Of course I do, Myles,” she said, far too calmly. “It’s the truth.”
“You think fifty thousand people, seeing you from stadium seats, at least half if not more of them straight females, were cheering the way they were because of what youlooklike?”
“Giant screens, remember?”
I hunted for words. “Lex, that’s…” I turned away, at a loss. “I have never seen anyone play the way you do, sing the way you do. You’remadefor this, honey.” I spun back, grabbing her shoulders. “Lex, listen to me. You aretalented. Beyond talented. You’re a natural. Sure, you were nervous. You think I’m not? You think you’reever, no matter how many times you do it,evertotally ready to go out and perform in front of fifty thousand people? Pro tip, darlin’, you’re not. I get nervous every single night. I get the jitters. The butterflies. The shakes. I get off stage and I’m shaking, every single night, because it’s scary as hell and it’s a fuckin’rush.” I stared her down. “Yeah, so you messed up. I fucked up at the Grammys, Lex. TheGrammys. I was so fuckin’ nervous I forgot the words to a verse and improvised an entire solo, and it was awful. The guys had no idea what I was doing, and neither did I. Everyone knew I’d fucked up. I got torn apart for a shitty performance—the same night we won four fuckin’ Grammy’s. I fuck up all the time. Forget words. Mess up a solo. I tripped on a cord once, and nearly took a header off the stage—Brand somehow kept playing with one hand and yanked me back on stage with the other.”
