I got behind the piano and felt the room take notice behind me. I hadn’t played for an audience in a very long time. A familiar thrill of nerves energized me. My back was to the audience because it was an accompanist piano, off to the side of the stage. I tugged my mask down. My hands shook as I played a few chords to warm up. I launched into the opening stanza, hoping the jitters would wear off as my voice warmed up. At least Elton John was an almost-guaranteed crowd pleaser. My fingers found the notes easily.
I was desperate to turn around and gauge Kim’s reaction to the song. God, if only I could play like this for her all the time. But I felt it—I felt the bar’s energy coursing through me, felt the transformative power of a great fucking song. My body came alive as I played. My voice belted out the words. I was raw with explosive energy. I’d missed this—playing for people. I thought I’d shut this part of my life away. But here I was, loving every second of it.
As the whoops and applause broke out, I pulled my mask back into place and stood to bow.
Kim and her friends had made their way to the front and were clapping and pumping their arms. I jumped off the short stage and pulled Kim into a hug. When we pulled apart, she looked as dazed as I felt. I hadn’t thought about doing that. I was just buzzing with adrenaline and my body moved without thinking.
Gretchen smacked my shoulder with the back of her hand. “Erik Jones in the flesh.”
My eyes widened. Nobody seemed to hear it in the cacophony of the bar.
“Gretchen!” Kim punched her in the arm.
“Ouch! What the fuck?”
“Language,” Suzie warned.
“It’s not like anybody could hear me.” Gretchen rubbed her arm with a frown.
“Still,” Kim eyes were wide imploring. “This was exactly why I didn’t want to tell you.”
“How many people would connect that random guy in Genie’s with the pop star?”
“Okay, you have got to stop talking.” Kim grabbed my hand and pulled me away from her group of chattering friends.
The ones who weren’t talking were staring at me with wide, shell-shocked eyes. The blonde whispered to the brunette and I swear I heard her ask about an autograph as I was tugged to a quiet corner near an old cigarette machine.
This was exactly what I was afraid of. In any other circumstance, I would have just been a guy. I wanted to, God, I dunno, impress her? I’m such a tool. This was what I got for listening to Wes about anything. I wanted to show her something more than my instructor side without giving away too much of what I felt for her. But it backfired. I didn’t think they’d all recognize me. This was why I wore the mask. How differently would I be treated now? Because now I was only some former celebrity with a crap career.
“Hey.” Her finger poked my cheek and I cursed the mask for the distance between our skin. “I can’t tell, but I’m pretty sure you’re frowning under there. Don’t worry about them. They won’t say anything. They’re just surprised. They are of that generation that was a little, uh, obsessed with you. Not me. I wasn’t. I definitely didn’t have posters of you all over my room …”
“I’m not worried about it.” I was bothered though.
She shifted from foot to foot, studying the scuffed-up wooden floor. “That was an awesome performance.”
“Thanks.” I studied her, desperate to see any signs of her feelings. “It’s a classic song.”
Her hair was down tonight in a straight, dark style that fell almost all the way down her back. It had been in a tight twist today at rehearsals. Had she come straight here? I imagined her shaking her hair loose. Pulling her fingers through it, back arched … slow motion.
Jesus Christ, I needed another drink.
“Sure. But your singing …” Her cheeks flushed too. She was half a breath from twirling hair around her finger.
And there it was. She looked at me with hearts in her eyes. We had been making such strides with my composition. But all at once, I was a teen pop star again. A crappy one, at that. It was one thing to see my face these last months, but it was different to hear me play this kind of music. I triggered a fangirl crush she’d kept hidden. I wanted to be more than that to her. Would I ever just be Erik to her? I wanted to be more than a Maestro, more than a popstar. The rest of the world be damned, what did she think of the real me?
“Well, anyway. I promise that they won’t bother you about it. And they won’t say anything, okay?”
I nodded and tucked my hands deep in my pockets.
“I’m going to go back to my, uh, meeting. I’m glad I got to see you here tonight.” She spoke seriously enough that I forced myself to meet her gaze. “It was nice to see you outside of practice or rehearsals. Sometimes, it’s nice to just feel the music and be reminded. You know? Yeah, you know.” She licked her lips.
“Yeah.”
“You could probably come hang out for a drink but I wasn’t technically allowed to invite boys. It’s against the code …”
“Don’t worry about it.” I waved away her offer.
“Okay, well, bye.” She stepped up on her toes to kiss my cheek. The one little sliver of exposed skin between the mask. Her lips were warm and soft. Her head bumped the bill of my hat. She giggled and rubbed her forehead. “Sorry.”
She walked away quickly with fists balled and a little shake of her head.
It was time to leave. Coming here and performing like that had been a lapse in judgement. I went to the bar to square up my bill. I was glaring at the bar top when someone sidled up next to me. I wasn’t in the mood.
“I feel bad.” It was the redhead, Gretchen. “I shouldn’t have spilled your secret identity to the whole bar.”
I shrugged but didn’t face her.
“Nobody heard me,” she said.
“It’s fine,” I grumbled.
“I’m easily excitable and sometimes words just blah,” she said, motioning words coming out of her mouth with her hand. “But it isn’t my jam to spill people’s secrets. I’m usually like a vault.”
I tilted my head to convey my disbelief.
“It’s true.” She blew out a long breath making a show of it. “Like I wouldn’t tell you, an almost total stranger, that Kim was a big fan of you back in the day. She tried to hide it, but your song was always playing. It was her go-to bad mood song. You know the song that makes you get up and shake your tail feather no matter how dark the day is?”
I sighed and turned toward her. “Like a vault, huh?”
“It’s true. I wouldn’t tell you that. Because that was forever ago. She’s hardly the same person now. Definitely not the same person that used to keep a shoebox full of old notes.”
I cleared my throat. Despite the cold dread her other news brought me, this had me taking notice. “Notes?”
“Yeah, from some band camp. I definitely wouldn’t tell you what those meant to her.”
Heat burned down the back of my neck. It took all my strength not to run to Kim ask her about it.
“And I absolutely would not tell you that Roderick Chagny has been taking credit for them her whole life.”
My whole body jolted. “What? That pea-brained, coattail-riding little shit? He wouldn’t know how to compose a grocery list, let alone a note.”