Wait for me
Wait for me
I know that this can’t be pretend
I’m here waiting till the end
One day I know it won’t be hard
One day I know we’ll feel so free
Baby please I’m asking you
To wait for me
Wait for me
I stepped off the stage, drenched in sweat. The other guys were high-fiving and congratulating each other. Dan, the bassist, fell in step beside me in the corridor, the echoes of music and twenty-thousand screaming fans still reverberating in my ears.
“Hey, man, great show,” he said.
“Thanks, you too.” My stock answer.
“Where did that last one come from?” Antonio, the keyboardist asked. “‘Wait for Me’? Wasn’t exactly on the set list.”
“Yeah, sorry,” I said. “It was something I wrote on the fly. Needed to get it out there.”
“Beautiful shit, man.”
“Thanks.”
His brows furrowed as he looked me up and down. “You okay? You look a little white.”
“I’m fine,” I said, even as my watch started warning me that my numbers were dropping.
Fuck. Too high before the show. Too low, after.
“Hey, Miller—”
“I gotta handle this.”
I forced my legs to move faster to my private dressing room. Evelyn was there with another assistant, Tina Edgerton, who was busy finishing setting up my post-show food and drinks.
Evelyn’s eyes widened when she looked up from her phone. “Jesus, Miller…I’m calling Dr. Brighton.”
“No,” I said, slumping into a chair. My shirt was drenched in a cold sweat. “Just give me my med bag.”
Evelyn hurried to do as I asked. I crammed a handful of glucose gummies in my mouth while Tina poured me a glass of orange juice. They both knew the drill.
“Thanks. You both can go. Can I have my phone, Ev?”
Evelyn slowly handed me my phone. “Are you sure? You still don’t look—”
“I’m fine. Please.” God, I was so tired. “I need to talk to her.”
I need her. I need Violet. I can’t do this anymore…
“Okay,” Evelyn said reluctantly. “But I’ll be right outside this door.”