I was a mess. My whole body was shaking. My eyelid was in full revolt. When we got there, it took me ten minutes to gather the courage to even get out of the car.
Walking into the Forum felt off. I didn’t come into venues this way anymore. I came in the back, through service entrances, with the band. I hung out while they set up. Watched shows from backstage.
Now I was in the crush of the crowd. I had to go through metal detectors and get my tickets scanned. I was a spectator. A fan. Just one of his millions. No different from anyone else. And I guess that all made sense. After all, I was here to see Jaxon, not Jason.
I wasn’t even sure Jason existed anymore.
Kristen tried to get me to eat something, but I couldn’t. I let her buy me a bottled water and I waited by the merch tables for her while she ran to get it. I stared at the posters for sale. “I was with him when he took those pictures,” I said to Kristen when she came back. “I’d been standing there right off camera at the photo shoot.”
But there were other posters now too, pictures I hadn’t been there for. He didn’t want me there anymore. He’d ejected me from this life.
The betrayal surged back and I almost lost my nerve.
Zane’s expensive tickets weren’t a hard sell. We found a couple in the tenth row to trade us for our front-row seats. Now we were close enough to see him well, but too far for him to notice me from the stage.
I was nervous and jumpy through the whole opening act. When Grayscale did their last song and Jessa did her “Make some noise for Jaxon Waters!” I panicked and did debate leaving before he came out.
Maybe this was totally self-destructive. Maybe if I saw him, knowing that he’d never cheated on me, it might make things worse. I might have a harder time accepting that we weren’t together anymore if I wasn’t fortified with my pure rage.
“God. I can’t believe I’m doing this.”
Kristen dipped her head to look me in the eye. “We can go anytime you want. Okay?”
I nodded. But I wouldn’t go. I would see this through. I had to.
We stared up at the two Jumbotrons, one on either side of the stage, with the words “Jaxon Waters” rotating over an image of a loon.
I knew what was going on backstage. I could imagine every activity that was bringing him closer to coming out. He was walking out of the dressing room. Zane was handing him a water bottle. A production manager was jogging in front of him, stepping over thick black electrical cords, speaking into a headset so the rest of the band would know it was time to gather by the curtain. Jason would put in his in-ear monitor and hand his water back to Zane. He’d open and close his fists to warm them up the way he always did before he went on. He wouldn’t be nervous. He’d be loose and light, and getting brighter the closer he got to going on, like he drew his energy from the pulse of the crowd.
And then there he was.
He burst onto the stage through fog and fireworks in a white T-shirt with a navy velvet jacket over it. His hair was longer than I remembered on top, but it looked good. I could almost see the blue of his eyes.
I clutched Kristen’s arm with my left hand. His voice was beautiful and strong and my heart gave out.
I loved him.
Even now, after everything he’d put me through, I loved him. Even if he was Jaxon.
And Zane was right. He was fucked up.
He came out with the same energy as always. But I knew him. Performing was the thing he loved most in life. No matter how tired he got, his eyes always lit up when he hit the stage. He could always summon it for his fans. But he was dark somehow. Faded.
A copy of a copy.
Everyone was screaming around me, pulsing with the music. His voice boomed through my whole body until I was saturated. He came in through my eyes, my ears, the vibration in the floor. I could taste the memory of his sweat on my tongue, smell the warm masculine scent of him after a show when he’d peel off his shirt and slide over me, his heart still racing from the adrenaline of the crowd.
How could I go home after this?
How could I get this hour and a half of him and then leave with everyone else who’d come to see him? And then the world would just swallow him up once more and he’d disappear.
I’d probably never see him again. Not in person. I did what I’d come to do, but I could already feel my heart paying the price for this visit. It was as unhealthy as spending all my time in a cemetery. It was a cold, one-sided devotion and I couldn’t put myself through it again.
Kristen put a hand over the one clutching her arm. It felt like it had when I’d sat in that hospital room with her by Brandon’s bedside. I could see the man I loved. He was there, but he was gone, beyond my reach.
The feeling was crushing. A helplessness no one should ever have to know.
And now I’d known it twice.
Kristen pulled tissues from her purse and put them into my hands. “Thank you.” I sniffed, pressing the tissue under my eye. “God, I would have never left him,” I said, shouting over the music. “No matter what. I would have followed him around the world like a groupie for the rest of my life.”
Kristen paused a minute and then leaned into my ear so I could hear her. “Did you ever think maybe he wanted more for you than that?”
“I know he wanted more for me than that,” I said, too quietly for her to hear.
The song ended and I knew Jason would do what he always did after the first one. He’d thank the crowd and welcome them to the show. Say something personal about the city.
How inconsequential was this place to him now? I wondered if he even knew where he was, or if he’d had to look at his hand before he hit the stage.
He put his lips to the mic. “Thank you, thank you. It’s great to be back in LA.”
Everyone cheered and I waited for him to say something about the beach or Disneyland or traffic on the 405.
But then something weird happened. He just stopped.
It started slow. The slight downturn at the corner of his lips, the loss of humor around his eyes. And then he changed suddenly and all at once, like a mask had come loose and fallen off and underneath it he was deeply sad.
He paused. He paused so long the crowd started to murmur.
“Actually, no,” he said, his tone suddenly serious. “Being back in LA has been a little rough for me. I’m sorry. It’s just…something happened today, and it’s been hard.” He glanced down at the stage and shook his head. His eyes came back up and looked over his fans. “You guys don’t know this, but I met the love of my life in Los Angeles.”
I sucked in a shock of air and my heart stopped dead in my chest.
The crowd whistled and hooted, but Jason put a hand up. “No, no. It’s not who you probably think it is. The tabloids get it wrong most of the time. Lola Simone and I are just colleagues and good friends. No, this woman…” He seemed to struggle with it. “She was incredible. She found my dog, actually. That’s how I met her. Wouldn’t give him back. Said I had to prove I loved him first.” He laughed a little and the crowd laughed too.
He went on. “We fell in love really fast. I know people say love at first sight—but it really was. Hell, I loved her before I even laid eyes on her. She came on tour with me. She’s this amazing artist, and she couldn’t paint on the road.” He clutched the microphone stand with both hands. “Being on tour isn’t easy. It’s exhausting. And she was willing to do it because she loved me, even though it meant making a lot of sacrifices. But there were some bad things going on that I couldn’t tell her about. Really scary stuff. And it got to a point where I realized that being with me wasn’t good for her. I couldn’t give her a life or protect her. So I let her believe something terrible about me so I could end it with her.”