Chapter 3: Chapter 3: Superstar
Memphis stretched out in the limo, legs crossed at the ankles and his arms spread over the back of the seat. "Fallon, this is crazy talk."
"No, Mem. Think about it. Every time I try to remember, I get a headache. That's a sign of a spell." I curled my denim-clad legs under my body and faced him.
"Babe." He stroked my cheek with the back of his index finger. "You're the sweetest, most incredible woman on the planet. Who would want to spell you?"
I chuckled. "Thanks for that. I don't know, maybe I'm cracking up. I heard that happens to females around my age sometimes."
I heard them before I saw them. The roar of those determined souls who'd broken through the barricades and waited for us at the backstage entrance was untamed. When the car came to a stop, the door jerked open with a creak.
"Let's go! Let's go! You guys are late! We've gotta get you on stage!"
Memphis laughed. "I guess it's a good thing we weren't gettin' freaky, then."
I climbed over him, pausing to kiss his lips. "You're terrible."
"I'm the worst." He wore a grin that made me want to never leave the car. Unfortunately, I had no choice.
Immediately upon stepping out, I flung my arm toward the sky and waved like my life depended on it. In some ways, it did. 99% of our success was because of fans. We could’ve had all the talent in the world, but if not for the people, it meant nothing.
The sunroof slid open and locked in place with a soft click. I glanced inside the car and was not at all surprised to see Memphis's lower half unfolding. Like a Jack-in-the-box, he popped through the roof.
"What's up, kings and queens of Savannah!"
His arms shot out, both hands waving. He looked truly magnificent, totally in his zone. I loved him twice as much, if that was possible, when he went into superstar mode.
"Are you ready?" His question elicited louder screams. He planted his hands on either side of the sunroof and boosted himself the rest of the way through. Rising to stand on the roof of the limo, he shouted again, "I said, are you ready!"
"Fallon! Fallon!" Ken’s voice came from behind me, just before I felt his hand on my shoulder. "We’ve got to go. The contract only allows us to be a half hour late and we’ve nearly hit that."
"Yeah, you get him down and I’ll get the boys fired up," I replied. After one last, proud smile in Memphis’s direction, I pivoted on my heel and made the trek through the wide corridor to the dressing room.
The clamor and clangor didn’t phase me anymore. I was so used to metal banging, crosstalk, and mixed voices, I didn’t notice it. Just like pushing through the dressing room door and seeing the boys half-naked didn’t bother me. It was all so normal.
"Oh, look, our beloved leader has arrived!" The sarcasm in Dex’s voice ran thick as syrup.
I ignored him. Dex and I had our issues, even though I wasn’t sure what they were. He didn’t care much for me and I was fine with that. I had Memphis and that was all I really needed.
"Get dressed, boys. It’s time to go to work. We’re changing up the setlist and starting with ‘The World’s on Fire,’" I said.
"Why? Everything okay?" Jacoby, the bassist, asked, as he pulled a black, leather vest over his bare torso.
"Yeah. Mem’s in the zone already." I pointed at Dex. "You got the talkbox ready?"
"Of course. I’m always ready." He snapped his sharp fangs at me, as he passed. I rolled my eyes.
"All right. Let’s get out there and do what we do best."
Jacoby, Matteo, and Bran came together in a circle, pounding their chests and grunting like animals. It was their usual pre-show rigmarole. I laughed, watching them like a proud mama. With a final, primal trio of bellows, they bolted through the door.
Quicker than a hiccup, I shed my jeans and camisole, and squeezed myself into the skin-tight peek-a-boo halter dress designated for that night’s show. It was sexy. Just revealing enough. It matched well with Memphis’s simple black denim and white tee. With a deep sigh, I thrust my feet into a pair of heels and hurried to the stage.
The guys were ready. I was ready. Memphis was... well, I wasn’t sure where Memphis was, but I knew he wouldn’t let us down. The openers, who I didn’t care to know, finished up their extended set and exited the stage. I watched them disinterestedly and waited for the crew to reset.
The subtle crackling of the pyrotechnics powering on tickled my eardrums. The lights popped like moths in a bug zapper. The 9,000 or so people crammed into the civic center shuffled about with anticipation. I could hear it all.
Static began in my fingertips, pushing against my nails and raising goosebumps on my skin. My own anticipation bubbled like a soft boil. It gradually rolled through my hands and caressed my arms, an impatient lover ready for action. I was so caught up in the high, I didn’t notice when the boys took the stage.
I heard the first beat of the drums and wailing of Dex’s guitar. When he hit the talkbox, canned explosions went off on either side of the stage, giving just brief glances of the band. The crowd went wild.
During the first pause, I moved to the stairs and ascended one by one, staying just out of sight. The drums came again, followed by Dex’s drop C riff. When the second pause came, and Memphis still hadn’t shown himself, I took a deep breath and prepared to take his place.
Right on cue, flashing strobes lit up the stage and a spotlight came on, pointed toward the crowd. Memphis’s low, intentionally gravelly voice boomed through the speakers.
"Welcome everybody to the devil’s playgr-ound!"
Gifts
-- Gift
received Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone