Read Online Backstage Pass: All Access by Elizabeth Nelson - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Elizabeth Nelson
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He’ll meet you back here one hour after the concert. There’s a car downstairs waiting. The same car will collect you precisely ten minutes after the concert. Any questions?”
Um, about a thousand.
I shook my head and took the tickets and pass. “No questions. Thank you.”
He smiled a sad smile like he’d seen my type a thousand times. I wanted to rail at him that I was not who he thought I was and I’d lived this life since the day I was born. But I didn’t. Because I hadn’t. I closed the door and my eyes. Drew a deep breath. This wasn’t that life.
This was my life.
Our life.
Roadie could take his judgment and shove it up his ass. I bit my lip. The car was waiting downstairs, so I gathered my purse and did a final check in the mirror. I prayed I didn’t look like a groupie, and when I texted Kerri a picture of my outfit she said I looked like a princess. I wasn’t sure that helped.
The car. Like a bloody limousine car. I wasn’t sure who ordered this, but good heavens I was trying not to get used to all this spoiling, but it was hard. We parted waves of fans and entered the building through a lower entrance and I was escorted backstage and got to wait at the edge of the stage while Jesse and the guys warmed up and did their mic checks.
I took a breath and tried to calm my pounding heart. I needed to relax, and stat.
They move d around with practiced movements from years of setting up their own gear in every seedy bar and club back home. He’d told me that they’d hired a staff of roadies to do all this for them but he hadn’t gotten used to delegating it and it helped him calm down before the concert.
He saw me and waved.
I smile d and a surge of rightness filled me. Everything was going to be okay. They finished their set and he rushed over. “Hey, babe. I’m so glad you made it.”
“Me too.” We clung to each other and then I found my poise and tried to act like a reasonable adult instead of a groupie. “I didn’t want to interfere with practice. Do you want me to hang out somewhere else?”
The rest of the band shuffl ed around uncomfortably and I knew they’d prefer if I vanished. Tonight was a big deal and I wanted him to be able to prepare like he needed. He drew me closer. “You’re the best. You could hang in the lounge until the concert starts. I think there are a few people in there already.” He kissed my cheek and I let him hold me for one more minute, then I scooted.
I f ound my way down the hallway and into the lounge. Um, he could have been a little more specific about the “few people.” I’d call them groupies for ease of identification. I sneakily took a few pictures and texted them to Kerri. She was full of snark and uplifting helpfulness. The groupies didn’t pay me much mind and I definitely didn’t waste any energy on them.
I kind of wish ed I’d have thought through this plan of mine. Of course Jesse wouldn’t have time for me before the concert . . . but I had wanted to see him so bad. I fidgeted with the edge of my purse and thought about calling Kerri and sharing what was going on but I didn’t have anywhere private. My confidence in my ability to do this wavered. It was one thing to sit at home imagining all these groupies waiting for him, but quite another to sit here watching them and listening to them coo and talk about his voice and body and ugh.
The concert finally started and I exploded from the room and raced to my seat. I felt numb to everything but Jesse, like I was in a tunnel and he was at the end, singing only to me. I tried to hold my jealousy when his end of the tunnel included a groupie reaching and stretching to touch him. In the end, the only thing that soothed me was that his attention always came back to me. By the time the concert ended, I was a nervous wreck and grateful for the driver and quick escape from the building. I let my head fall back against the headrest. I couldn’t do this again. It was nice to see him, but the
Um, about a thousand.
I shook my head and took the tickets and pass. “No questions. Thank you.”
He smiled a sad smile like he’d seen my type a thousand times. I wanted to rail at him that I was not who he thought I was and I’d lived this life since the day I was born. But I didn’t. Because I hadn’t. I closed the door and my eyes. Drew a deep breath. This wasn’t that life.
This was my life.
Our life.
Roadie could take his judgment and shove it up his ass. I bit my lip. The car was waiting downstairs, so I gathered my purse and did a final check in the mirror. I prayed I didn’t look like a groupie, and when I texted Kerri a picture of my outfit she said I looked like a princess. I wasn’t sure that helped.
The car. Like a bloody limousine car. I wasn’t sure who ordered this, but good heavens I was trying not to get used to all this spoiling, but it was hard. We parted waves of fans and entered the building through a lower entrance and I was escorted backstage and got to wait at the edge of the stage while Jesse and the guys warmed up and did their mic checks.
I took a breath and tried to calm my pounding heart. I needed to relax, and stat.
They move d around with practiced movements from years of setting up their own gear in every seedy bar and club back home. He’d told me that they’d hired a staff of roadies to do all this for them but he hadn’t gotten used to delegating it and it helped him calm down before the concert.
He saw me and waved.
I smile d and a surge of rightness filled me. Everything was going to be okay. They finished their set and he rushed over. “Hey, babe. I’m so glad you made it.”
“Me too.” We clung to each other and then I found my poise and tried to act like a reasonable adult instead of a groupie. “I didn’t want to interfere with practice. Do you want me to hang out somewhere else?”
The rest of the band shuffl ed around uncomfortably and I knew they’d prefer if I vanished. Tonight was a big deal and I wanted him to be able to prepare like he needed. He drew me closer. “You’re the best. You could hang in the lounge until the concert starts. I think there are a few people in there already.” He kissed my cheek and I let him hold me for one more minute, then I scooted.
I f ound my way down the hallway and into the lounge. Um, he could have been a little more specific about the “few people.” I’d call them groupies for ease of identification. I sneakily took a few pictures and texted them to Kerri. She was full of snark and uplifting helpfulness. The groupies didn’t pay me much mind and I definitely didn’t waste any energy on them.
I kind of wish ed I’d have thought through this plan of mine. Of course Jesse wouldn’t have time for me before the concert . . . but I had wanted to see him so bad. I fidgeted with the edge of my purse and thought about calling Kerri and sharing what was going on but I didn’t have anywhere private. My confidence in my ability to do this wavered. It was one thing to sit at home imagining all these groupies waiting for him, but quite another to sit here watching them and listening to them coo and talk about his voice and body and ugh.
The concert finally started and I exploded from the room and raced to my seat. I felt numb to everything but Jesse, like I was in a tunnel and he was at the end, singing only to me. I tried to hold my jealousy when his end of the tunnel included a groupie reaching and stretching to touch him. In the end, the only thing that soothed me was that his attention always came back to me. By the time the concert ended, I was a nervous wreck and grateful for the driver and quick escape from the building. I let my head fall back against the headrest. I couldn’t do this again. It was nice to see him, but the
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