Horse
Sarah’s performance was off the charts. The energy she brought to the stage was unparalleled. She had the entire audience on their feet. After tonight, she was going to be a star. Someone captured her on their phone and that would go on YouTube, and there would be talk, and then it would go viral. Because every now and again, the things that go viral are the right things, the talented things, and she was so good that there was no other possible outcome. Ridiculously, I felt this intense sort of pride watching her.
Standing in the wings, I kept having this totally unwarranted and twisted sense of ownership over her magnetism. I tried to brush the feeling away or squish it down, but as I watched her, it just bubbled up again. That was my woman, and I helped put her in the frame of mind that made her so undeniably good. It was like I was patting myself on the back and saying, “Hey, look what I did with my dick. I made that girl so happy. And now that she’s happy, all you motherfuckers are benefiting from my work.” It was totally absurd. Sarah was the talent and, yeah, I made her happy, but I didn’t make her go out on that stage and own it.
Standing next to me, Stew said, “She’s unstoppable tonight.”
I nodded.
“When she shines, she really shines, huh?” he continued.
I smiled, not taking my eyes off Sarah.
Unable to stop himself, he metaphorically sucker punched me. “Good thing Gwen got back in time to tune her guitar.”
I sighed. “Just let it rest, Stew. I don’t play anymore. You know I don’t play anymore. I don’t know why you thought today would be different.”
Under his breath, he said, “Because you are different, Horse.”
“Not so different that I’m going to play a guitar. Not anymore. Got it?”
“Yes, boss,” he said, his tone laced with defiance. I let it go. Desperate to return to the mind space that was my connection to Sarah.
To my left, Kat and Bill were approaching the stage. They were talking in low voices. For the last few shows, she’d been leaving little to no break between Sarah’s set and hers. Normally, there was thirty to forty-five minutes between Kat and the opener, but she’d asked us to tighten it up, so there was only fifteen minutes between the two. I didn’t think anything of it. I just made it happen, but I was starting to feel like there was something going on with her and Bill. I’d caught them whisper-yelling twice in the last week, and I’d spent the last year on an international tour with them and never noticed so much as a grimace pass between them.
When they got within spitting distance of Stew and I, Bill hugged her and kissed her on the forehead. Then he said, “Take it easy out there.”
She shook her head at him. “I’m fine.”
“I know,” he said calmly, “I just love you.” His expression was tense and I got the gist that he wasn’t as calm as he sounded.
I interjected, “You feeling okay, Kat?”
“Oh, God, not you too. Yes, all you big lumbering galoofs in my life. I am fine. I had a stomachache. Now I don’t. Trust me, I’ve performed under worse conditions.”
I turned to Stew. “Make sure she has two extra bottles of water.”
He started to move immediately, and Kat said, “And maybe some pretzels, Stew. Bill, would you go grab those suckers out of my bag?”
Pretzels? Suckers? I’d never known her to take food onstage. Who took food onstage? Bill nodded and was off. My mind started racing, wondering what was up with Kat, but she interrupted my thoughts. “How was Sarah’s set?”
I turned my head to see Sarah blasting out her last song. “Genius,” I said reverently.
I turned back to Kat and her eyes had narrowed ever so slightly. She was examining me. “Huh...” she said quietly to herself.
“She’s quite talented,” I said, trying to sound completely uninterested but knowing I wasn’t one hundred percent pulling it off.
Kat smiled. “She is,” she said in a tone that was totally all-knowing.
I tried to poke holes in what she thought she knew by saying, “The whole crew loves her.”
“Of course, they do. She’s loveable.” I wasn’t fooling her at all.
So I said the only thing I could think to say. “It’s my pleasure to work for her.” I hoped she knew what I was implying.
“So… she’s safe?” she asked cryptically.
“Infinitely,” I answered.
Kat's expression was utterly peaceful. “That’s good,” she said. “I’d like her to be infinitely safe.” I knew it was her blessing. I was so surprised that she wasn’t angry that I’d fallen for Sarah. I figured she saw me as I saw myself—a broken man, lost to the shadows of his grief. But if she liked the idea of Sarah and me, then maybe I didn’t know much about how people perceived me. Maybe I was more valuable than I realized.
Bill returned, handing Kat a little bag of candy. She took one out and popped it in her mouth. “These are so good,” she said, offering me the bag. “You want to try one?”
I brushed off the offer. “Nah, I’m good.”
Sarah burst off the stage, out of breath and broiling with the energy of her performance. I was reminded of her first show, the night at The Garden when I was so worried that I botched up our professional relationship.
Her eyes met mine and they were on fire. I could tell she was aching to come to me, but she didn't. She turned to Kat. “Oh my God! How can you sing the same songs a hundred times, and somehow they still surprise you?”
Stew arrived with the water and pretzels and the rest of my crew was bustling about, making sure the changeover was as tight as Kat requested. Signaling to Stew and me, Kat said, “These boys said you were incredible out there tonight.”
Sarah folded at the waist and hollered out a whoop of pent-up energy. Then she dropped to a squat and said, “I just feel so darn powerful.”
Kat walked over and touched her face. “Because you are, Kick.”
Sarah stood and the two hugged. I could have sworn that Bill looked a little misty around the eyes, but I wasn’t going to point that out.
The moment passed and Kat turned to Bill. “You will not skulk in the wings. Go back to my dressing room and call your dad or something.”
Bill rolled his eyes.
She pleaded, “You’ll make me nervous, and then I’ll perform terribly, and then I’ll be mad at you.”
“Fine,” he harrumphed. Then he pointed to me. “If she needs me…”
I confirmed, “I’ll grab you immediately, dude. Promise.”
He looked to Sarah. “You wanna join me? I’m sure Dad would like to see you.”
She smiled. “I want to watch Kat for a few minutes.”
“Must be nice.” He sulked as he stalked off.
And then Kat was onstage, and my crew was busy, and Sarah was standing next to me.
“I can’t stop thinking about you,” she said, low and secretively.
“You were incredible tonight,” I told her.
“We were incredible. This afternoon was incredible.”
“Yes.” I could feel my ego swelling.
“It was better than I imagined.” Her voice was quiet but bright, almost giddy. “I want more.”
“Me too,” I said simply. “Lots more.”
She turned so she was in front of me, not next to me. “I want to try everything with you, Horse.”