When my sister-in-law and I enter the ballroom, we find my big brother onstage, standing in front of all three members of 22 Goats and a couple musicians from the wedding band, with everyone behind Logan poised and ready to play their musical instrument. Not surprisingly, given the obvious performance cued up, every guest at the party is now crowded onto the dance floor, tittering with excitement about whatever is about to unfold.
“Mrs. O’Brien!” Logan calls out when he spots his beautiful bride. “Get over here, baby!”
The crowd parts like the Red Sea for Kennedy as she makes her way to the foot of the stage, while I head to a spot a few feet away next to Violet and Alessandra on the dance floor.
“Hey, baby,” Logan says, smiling down at his bride before him. “You remember what I told you the night your all-time favorite 22 Goats song came on the radio during our very first date?” Logan’s smile broadens. “You. Give. Me . . . ‘Fireflies.’”
Everyone, including me, goes apeshit, because we all know what that means: we’re about to enjoy a private performance of 22 Goats’ smash hit, “Fireflies”—a melodic song that’s been imprinted onto the world’s gray matter at this point. Plus, side note, that’s an awfully romantic story.
Without further ado, Dax counts off into his mic, and a second later, the lilting, electric guitar-infused introduction to the song begins, at which point Logan hops off the stage, pulls his squealing bride into his arms, and begins swaying romantically with her to the music. Go, big brother, go!
Earlier, Logan and Kennedy danced their official “first dance” to a tune performed by the wedding band. But as sweet as that moment was, it can’t hold a candle to this one. How many newly married couples have been serenaded on their wedding day by 22 Goats? I’m willing to guess Logan and Kennedy are the only one.
When his cue in the iconic song arrives, Dax leans into his mic and begins singing the first verse, and as he does, he looks down at his gorgeous wife, Violet, with such palpable adoration, such intensity and sexual heat and love, while she looks up at him like he’s the answer to her prayers, I can’t help swooning. As my heart races and pounds, and vicarious fireflies ravage my belly, I shift my focus to Colin behind the drumkit. And that’s when my drunken mind instantly imagines he’s making those drumbeats for me. Serenading me, in musical Morse Code, the same way Dax is singing the lyrics he wrote for Violet.
The first chorus ends and Dax shouts, “Take it away, Fish Tacoooo!” And Matthew Fishberger next to him leans into his microphone, without missing a beat on his bass guitar, and begins serenading his love, Alessandra, with the second verse.
I remember seeing Fish singing lead vocals on this song in a recent viral video, recorded during a charity concert in a huge arena, but getting to see him doing it here, in a small, intimate setting, for a hundred people in a hotel ballroom rather than for thousands at Madison Square Garden, is making me swoon, yet again. Hard.
Shit.
I’ve got to get this swooning reflex under control. This is ridiculous.
But it’s no use. I’m feeling physically dizzy in response to the romance I’m observing all around me. Logan and Kennedy. Dax and Violet. Fish and Alessandra.
A deep-seated yearning overtakes me. And then, anxiety that I’m not lovable or attractive enough to get to have what they all do someday. Will I ever find true love in this lifetime? Will someone ever swoon for me the way I swoon for them?
Why’d the sweet boy who grew up next door to me have to grow up to become an actual rockstar—so freaking successful and unattainable, I’d have to be delusional to think he might ever want me, the way I want him?
The crowd around me applauds uproariously as “Fireflies” ends. But I’m too wracked by my racing thoughts to move or react. Why didn’t a single crew member even flirt with me, during the tour? Why didn’t I feel sparks with Perry when we made love? Why can’t I jump into meaningless hookups, like all my friends do? What’s wrong with me?
“Ally, you wanna perform ‘Smitten’ for a live audience, for the first time?” Fish says, grinning down at his girlfriend on the dance floor.
Apparently, Alessandra has signaled she’s game, because as the other musicians, including Colin and Dax, begin exiting the stage, Fish reaches down and pulls her onto the stage next to him. As the crowd applauds excitedly, Fish grabs two acoustic guitars—one for him and one for his love—before returning to his microphone.
“Ally and I wrote this duet called ‘Smitten’ for her upcoming debut album. It’s releasing in a couple weeks.” He smiles at the happy couple. “Congrats, Logan and Kennedy. This one’s for you.”
Colin appears at my shoulder as Fish begins strumming onstage. But before anyone has started singing, Colin leans into me and says, “This is gonna be a huge hit for Ally. Mark my words.”
Fish stops strumming. “Oh, hey. Will you guys do me a favor? Record this on your phones and post it everywhere? Let’s get some buzz going for my girl’s debut!”
Everyone in the audience who happens to have their phone handy immediately takes them out, happy to oblige Fish’s sweet request, while Ally thanks the crowd.
As Fish did before her, Ally leans into her microphone and addresses the happy couple at the foot of the stage. “After witnessing your love today, there’s no doubt this song is about you, every bit as much as it’s about Fish and me. Congrats!”
As the crowd applauds, Fish resumes his strumming. And a moment later, Ally leans into her mic, beams a gorgeous smile at her boyfriend, and starts singing the song, before soon being joined by Fish:
Oooh I . . .
I love you ever so much, much
I’m living for your every touch, touch
And your every kiss . . . is . . . bliss
Oooh I . . . I love your big blue eyes, love
I’m living for your every smile, love
And your every kiss, kiss, kiss
Every day with you I’m smitten
Every day I have a crush
Feelin’ infatuated.
Every day I’m so in love!
It’s loooove!
I’m so in love with youuuu!
Just like the sky is bluuuuue!
You’re my first. My last. My best. My only.
Looooooove!
Don’t want no one but youuuuuu!
Because this love is true!
Can’t get enough of you
You’re my first, my last, I’ll be smitten, always
[Click here to listen to Fish and Alessandra perform an acoustic version of their song, “Smitten.”]
As Fish and Alessandra reach the end of their first chorus, tears flood my eyes. I wipe my cheek, angry with myself. But I can’t keep more tears from falling, no matter how hard I try. I want what Fish and Alessandra are singing about! And I want it with Colin. But if I can’t have that—and I know I can’t—then I want it with someone. And in this moment, I don’t have a whole lot of hope that will ever be in the cards for me, if the tour was any indication of my ability to attract members of the opposite sex.
As a torrent of tears springs from my eyes, I press the back of my hand against my forehead—because alcohol always turns me into the main character in a period-piece melodrama—and then bolt through the crowded dance floor toward a pair of French doors at the back of the ballroom.