Letting Go (Rock Romance #6) (2 page)

“The only thing a person can ever really do is keep moving forward. Take that big leap forward without hesitation, without once looking back. Simply forget the past and forge toward the future.”

– Alyson Noel

“Guess what I won?” I shake the V.I.P. passes around in front of my sister’s eyes.

“If you’d stop moving your hands around like a crazy woman I would be able to see.”

“Oh, come on just guess!”

“Rad, I’m not going to play this childish game, just tell me.”

“You should sit down first.” I wait for Avery to sit down on the couch before breaking the big news. “So, I was listening to the radio.”

“Who listens to the radio anymore?” She cuts me off.

“I do, as I was saying I was listening to the radio and the had a contest, you had to be call twenty to win, if you were you won V.I.P. passes for a concert that was happening tonight, V.I.P. passes not only include amazing seats, but an extended meet and greet!” I start yelling with excitement.

“So who’s playing tonight?”

“Oh-my-God! Are you kidding me right now? And to think I was going to take you along with me.”

“I’m only joining you if you tell me who it is.”

“Steele’s Army!” I scream.

She joins my celebration dance that includes a bunch of high pitched screaming, something you’d expect from an adolescent. Come on though, just thinking of meeting Zepp from Steele’s Army has my entire body screaming.

“You know you’re bringing me with you right?”

“I wouldn’t bring anyone else with me. That’s why I stopped over, I have to stop at the store on my way home. You know this calls for a new outfit, I’ll shower and then come back here. I figured we should take a cab there and one on the way back.”

“Yes! Yes! When do I have to be ready?”

“Doors open at six for the V.I.P. holders, concert starts at seven and the extended meet and greet begins as soon as they leave the stage. So be ready by five.”

~*~

Placing my collection of bags I’ve managed to gather while at the store on the floor in front of me, I unlock my door. I stumble in over the bags to set my purse and keys down on the kitchen table. Gathering all the bags together, I kick my door shut and wander over to my couch, I drop all the bags down.

I empty each bag out, the easy way, by tipping the contents out. By the time I empty each bag my couch can’t be found. I want tonight to be perfect. I am a groupie, but only for Zepp. I only found out that Steele’s Army would be here, in () last week and by that time every good ticket was already sold out and had been for months. It was by complete luck that I had been listening to the local radio show, something I don’t normally do because I usually opt to plug my cellphone in and listen to songs I’ve already purchased. Don’t get me wrong, I do want to enjoy Zepp’s body in all sinfully good ways but not just once, I want him, well, forever.

I’m not insane, I don’t belong in an asylum on medication or anything. I know I don’t actually know him, although I would love to. All I know about him is that he’s a loner, the one who’d rather hide in the shadow then being front and center.

That’s what first attracted me to him, his shyness drew me in. Breathing was far from my mind when I first saw him live on stage. Luck left me the day I bought those tickets, at the time there was no way I could afford a ticket that would get me past the gate to meet Steele’s Army. I had to suffer sitting hundreds of feet away in orchestra seating instead of the front row. I’d been attracted to all the members at the point, I was a hormonal teenager with adolescent dreams. Until that night.

Seeing Zepp hammering his fingers on a keyboard, and even once on a piano caused my emotions to center on him, solely. Occasionally he accompanied Ryan on back-up vocals but I could tell that melody was his thing, making music that had emotional depth was his niche in the world.

I wanted to feel that, to feel him, to feel his song through his words, the notes. I wanted him to play me.

Then I was young and desperate for his attentions, attending any and every concert he’d be at that I could, alas I couldn’t catch his attention ever.

Tonight would be different, for one I was no longer desperate or a teenager, I knew how id catch his sole focus, and I knew exactly what I’d do when I caught it. I am woman, independent and driven.

Zepp, you’ve no idea what I’m going to do to you.

~*~

“There isn’t any parking.” Avery looks over to me, in question of what I think she should do.

“Of course there is, there’s always parking. Look over there,” I say pointing to someone’s house a few blocks away from the venue, “There using their yard as a parking lot, can’t be any more expensive than the parking garage down the road. I’ll pay.”

“Make sure to remember it was you who said to park here, when we’re walking back to the car.”

“I don’t plan on walking back.” I say with a smirk.

She’s aware of my plans toward Zepp.

“Bitch.”

Fifteen minutes later we reach the venue, tickets in hand we approach the V.I.P. line, where we receive early entrance. We arrived in line at the same time the doors are opened, instead of security greeting us to search our bags and take our tickets three females walk out. One I recognize from magazine articles, she’s Ryan’s wife, Natalie. The other two I’ve never seen before, but I’m sure they’re just as important.

There’s quite a few of us in line, maybe one hundred all waving our special tickets around, some slightly agitated because of the wait. The women slowly make their way down the line, saying something that I can’t make out until their upon Avery and I.

Natalie, the ring leader of the group catches my eye. Instantly I’m taken off guard, it’s like she can see into my soul, like she knows what I’m about and what I’ve set my sights on. Like she’s sizing me up and it makes me uncomfortable. Instead of calling me out on my goal in mind, she tells us of some time changes.

“Unfortunately we’re going to have to post pone the meet and greet until after the show, when the show ends you’ll go to the door on the right of the stage and show security your ticket stub that states you have entrance to the meet and greet. Steele’s Army apologizes for the changes but it couldn’t be helped. To make up for the wait you guys will all be receiving special gift bags with rare Steele’s Army merchandise at the dinner. There’s going to be a few more changes with how things are done tonight so if you’ve ever participated in a meet and greet with the guys, expect differences. I’ll explain it all after the show. Thank you for your cooperation.” She smiles tightly, then stares directly into my eyes, “See you there.”

“What was that all about? She called you out in front of everyone.” Avery interrogates.

“No idea. It kinda makes me nervous though, felt like she was invading my soul with those eyes.”

“Yeah she was definitely studying you. Wonder what she was thinking.”

“Hopefully she was thinking all good things.”

“Let’s hope.”

Eventually we’re allowed to enter so we can find our seats, before everyone else is allowed entrance. Avery and I stop at a concession stand and grab drinks for the show before making our way to our seats located dead and center. Don’t know how I didn’t notice that we were in the front to begin with, but to be dead center of where they’ll be performing for the duration of the show is beyond lucky. I don’t remember the radio hosts saying anything about such a good location. I’m sure if they had, I wouldn’t have won because many more people would’ve called in. Usually when you win tickets, they’re seats way up in the balcony where it takes binoculars to even see the band, or a floating projection screen. Not my ideal choice of great seats.

However, these seats are amazing. Almost overwhelming that after so many years of concerts and being a fan I finally hit the jackpot and not only get to meet them, but to witness a concert with such emotional movement and powerful songs, that’s beyond luck.

“
People have a hard time letting go of their suffering. Out of a fear of the unknown, they prefer suffering that is familiar.”

— Thich Nhat Hanh

“Are you guys ready to hit the stage yet?” Abagail asks.

“I thought we had the meet and greet first.” Ryan speaks up first.

“Venue staff thought it would be better to have the meet and greet after.” She throws her hands in the air, exasperated. “It was out of my hands.”

Ryan grimaces.

I’d love to see the organizers put on a three hour show, then have a formal meet and greet directly after while coated in sweat. Normally we would have the formal greet with fans before the concert, a light meal and some drinks then send them on their way so we can hit the stage. After the show we’d shower, change, whatever we needed then go out and meet the fans who didn’t have special tickets.

We’d set at a table for hours taking pictures and signing autographs, which wasn’t as exhausting as having deep conversations with people who’ve doled out hard earned cash and have a meal in between the pictures, the conversing. However, knowing Abagail she fought for us and it’s something they wouldn’t budge on.

“Let’s get out there then, yeah?” I look to Ryan, Liam, Gage and Jason.

“Let’s do this.” They murmur back, the excitement of putting on a show gone.

~*~

“I have to say that’s the first time in a long time I wasn’t feeling a show before we went on stage. Meet and greet after was daunting, but their fuckin’ energy was hard to ignore.” Jase is mumbling erratically, the adrenaline of performing in front of thousands of fans is addicting.

As we make our way off the stage Natalie cuts in front of us. “You guys have about seventy very important people to get through before everyone else, we’ve already made an announcement on how it would go. Everyone is already formed in a line, pictures first, and while they’re meeting you guys before posing for pictures they’ll get their autographs. When everyone has had a chance to meet you and get a picture or whatever you’ll all sit down and share a meal. They won’t be coming up to you, interrupting. Layla, Abby and I thought this might be better, seeing as how they wouldn’t change the times. You guys have ten minutes to go freshen up or change.”

This woman is a Godsend. She makes me forget how we got along before she came our way, we must’ve been a fucked up brood. Natalie isn’t much younger than I am, yet she takes on the mother role for all of us, well all of us except for Ryan that is.

I decide to make a run for the bus to take a quick shower and change before the greeting commences. I take off without saying a word, so that I won’t have contenders for the shower.

When I make it to the bus by ways of back hallways to hide from any fans, fans I certainly don’t want touching me whilst I’m covered in sweat soaked clothing, I grab a clean pair of jeans and an Affliction shirt, one of my favorite clothing lines.

I take the world’s fastest shower, throw the clean clothes on and style my hair before going to greet fans. I’ve got a short Mohawk, I change my hairstyle up every now and then. Not that I personally care about labels or outward appearances, it’s just something I’ve always had for myself. I’ve realized that I have no power to control anything around me, of the past or my future but I can control what I do, or how I look, even how I speak and what I want people to know about me.

I can control my life.

So I do, down to the smallest and meaningless things of my life. Like my hair.

This month my hair is colored in a hunter green, next month will probably be navy blue. I squirt some hair glue in my hands, run my fingers through my hair pulling it straight up to fashion it in my trademark rocker style. Before I exit the bathroom I observe myself, the sharp cut of my jaw that’s hairless thanks to my favorite razor, my full lips that curve slightly as if God himself wanted to play a joke on me by giving me a permanent smirk. Or the dimples that are etched well into my cheeks that no amount of plastic surgery, if I had wanted, would remove them. Hazel eyes, green with a light mix of brown that spoke to me, of someone drowning in dull lifelessness.

It amazes me that when we do shows, or greets with fans, how many of them want to meet me, the most boring one of the group. My story is just that, my story and it’s no one’s business, the guys being the exception if they ever brought it up. I fabricate my background to the press and magazines, to fans, because I don’t want any of them to intrude themselves in Rush or my parents lives. They didn’t need noses shoved into their daily doings.

To everyone else, I am me, I have no one, I am alone.

And I like it that way.