Tears were threatening to fall when suddenly I felt myself float up from the floor. I blinked and realized someone from the stage had just grabbed my arm and has pulled me up. Before I could utter a protest, I found myself staring into his blue eyes. He started singing to me and I was lulled to complete silence by his voice.
My boyfriend loved this song. But he wasn’t here to listen to it. I thought he loved me, but he left me here as well. I guess everything I thought he loved was wrong. He broke up with me during the concert. Not before. Not after, but while this band was singing. Just before the last song. The moron.
Hatred still filled my mind and I was too preoccupied with my thoughts that I wasn’t exactly aware I was on stage in front of a lot of people, my hand being held by this guy they’ve all been praising like a god the whole night.
As the song finished, he escorted me backstage. And as soon as he got down from the stage, he slung his right arm gently onto my shoulder, pulling me closer to him. My nose was telling me he smelled good. Cologne and just a tinge of sweat. His eyes were masked by the changing lights coming from the stage. It was only now that I stood there really looking at him. And everything about him spelled he was dangerous. Irresistibly dangerous.
By the way we stood there, who would have thought we only met on-stage from that last song?
“You want to have coffee later? Or maybe we could hang around the dressing room for a bit of chat?”
“Eh…” This certainly wasn’t going well. My anger for my
boyfriend ex had finally washed itself into pure remorse and self pity, and all I felt like doing was curling up on my bed. By myself.
But here I was, standing beside some guy who obviously wanted to get me alone somewhere, and was used to getting his way… wasn’t he?
That’s the way all rock stars were, I guessed.
Hanging my head slightly, I finally mumbled, “Not really… Look, maybe I can give you a rain check.” Of four or five years.. “I’ve had a long night, anyway. I should probably just go home.”
He removed his arm from my shoulder. “If that’s what you’d like.” I blinked at the unexpected agreement. “I’ll be here for another few nights, and then we’re leaving for a provincial tour for awhile.”
I stood blankly at the end of the hall as he turned to leave. My courage finally began building again before he tossed over his shoulder, “Oh! I almost forgot. One of the bouncers found a blue purse on stage earlier. Didn’t you have a purse before?”
The question caught me completely off-guard. “I-…” I stared at my empty hands, mind working quickly to remember where I could have lost it. I have walked off-stage with it, haven’t I?? “Um.. yeah, I did have a purse…”
“Well, you’re welcome to come claim it.” The vocalist rounded the corner.
“… Hey, wait a minute.” I took a tentative step forward… and then another… “Wait up!” I finally shouted, jogging after him.
“Hold on,” I exclaimed, bolstering the door open as he nearly closed it. That purse had a few important things in it… my mobile phone, my passport, my aunt’s credit cards. She’d kill me if she found that out.
“Is this your purse?” He picked up the blue, plastic purse from the dresser, holding it at arm’s length.
“Yeah… thanks,” I mumbled, my ears ringing from the relative quiet in this part of the backstage area. I stepped into the room long enough to grab at the purse.
“No problem,” he replied. I heard the door click shut behind me.