I lean down next to the microphone. “I’m really not sure what to say.” Well, that’s an understatement. I crane my neck and glance at the screen behind me with the list of the other nominees. “I never expected to win tonight. There were so many other talented ladies…I never thought…” My voice falters. “Thank you so much.” My gaze searches the crowd, landing on Alvin who flashes me two thumbs up and shouts my name. “Thank you to Kickstart for giving an unknown, new-to-Hollywood girl a chance.” Garrett and Jacob let out shrill whistles. My gaze shifts to the left, where Chaser’s waiting at the edge of the stage, with his hands clasped in front of him. “Thank you to Chaser Adams, whose support means everything.” Behind me, the announcer clears her throat, signaling I need to wrap up my speech. “I also need to thank my agent Marilyn Stewart, Valerie Malone, and oh my gosh, I know I’m forgetting someone. But thank you!”
My heart hammers so hard, I’m afraid it’ll jump out of my chest and run away. Music blasts over the speakers, and I resist the urge to flee from the stage. Carefully, I step back from the podium and off to my left, where I’ve watched every other winner disappear tonight. Chaser meets me halfway, and I’m still so nervous, I fling myself against him, forgetting we’re in view of everyone.
“You did great,” he says against my ear. “So proud of you.”
I pull away, and he wraps an arm around my waist, guiding me behind heavy red velvet curtains.
Backstage is chaos.
“Congratulations, Mallory!”
Flashbulbs momentarily blind me, but serve as a reminder to play my part.
Look happy.
Act grateful.
Smile.
“Mallory, can we get a picture?”
“Chaser are you upset your girlfriend won while Kickstart lost Breakout Video?”
“Absolutely not.” Chaser’s terse answer sends the reporter scurrying away.
“Congratulations!” Andrew’s dopey smile swoops in fast, as he grabs me in a big hug and spins me around. “You know I voted for you, right?” he whispers against my ear.
“You did?” I laugh.
“Fuck yeah, I did.” He sets me down but doesn’t let go. “They sent us tapes of all the nominees. Watching the videos back to back, there was no question who the hottest chick was.”
Chaser clears his throat and drops his gaze to where Andrew’s hands are resting on my waist. Andrew snatches them away, as if my hips suddenly turned into flames. “Proud of your girl?” he asks.
“Always,” Chaser says.
One of the show’s assistants rushes over to us. “You have to get back out there. Guitar God is coming up.” She glances at Andrew. “You’re not supposed to be back here.”
“I’m Andrew Lane. I can be wherever I want, sweetheart.”
She blushes. “I…know who you are, Mr. Lane. Your category is up soon.”
“Gotcha.” He winks at her, and I swear the girl almost swoons out of her heels.
When she comes to her senses, she glances at me. “I’ll take your statue. We have a table you can pick it up at later.”
“Thanks.”
Chaser holds out his arm to me. “Ready?”
Chaser
This night is insane.
We barely make it back to our seats before the Guitar God category is called. Still excited over Mallory’s win, I barely listen to the names as they’re called out. I lean over when Vinnie’s name is mentioned and shake his hand.
Because I thoroughly expect Vinnie or even Danny Desmond to win, I’m not prepared to hear my name, and, at first, assume it’s a mistake.
Alvin, Garrett, and Jacob jump out of their seats, fists in the air, shouting for me to get my ass up. Vinnie even puts his hands together and stands.
“Fuck yeah, Chaser!” Andrew shouts, which is awkward as fuck, since the guitarist for his own band lost to me.
I reach for Mallory, and she squeezes my hand. “Get up there.”
“Come with me.”
“No way. I’m not going up there again.”
I lean down. “I need you.”
The Guitar God category apparently isn’t limited to music videos. Footage from one of our shows with Shooting Fences plays over the screen. Do I really look that serious when I’m playing? I drop my gaze and laugh. What a dick.
I shake a few hands as we head up to the stage. Mallory stops, probably assuming I’ll leave her to wait where I stood earlier. But no. I want her right next to me. Truth is, without her, I’d probably be rolling around in the gutter high out of my mind, instead of accepting this award.
The microphone’s low, and I have to lean over to speak. “Guitar God. Wow. I never…” I stop and shake my head. “Thank you to our fans for making this happen. Every single one of you means so much to me and every member of Kickstart. Thanks to my father who always hated my music, but encouraged me to play it anyway.” I glance at the small, silver trophy, suddenly feeling choked up. There has to be someone else I’m supposed to thank? No one comes to mind. “Alvin, Garrett, Jacob, thanks for sharing this dream with me. Andrew, thanks for being so rad.” I smirk into the camera, and Andrew’s cheer can be heard over all the other noise.