This was why.
Because when you threw those five people on stage together, nothing else mattered. They wanted to play their own music and didn’t care who was listening.
“Well, that went better than expected, seeing as how we haven’t played it in about six months,” Jez said, leaning into the microphone. “Hi everyone.”
They screamed back.
“Thanks for coming out tonight. We’re here to play you some music. I hope you like it.”
The next song was one from the new album, the first time they’d played it in public. Ben wasn’t really looking out into the crowd; he had his back turned to them for the first half of the song, watching Tone and taking something from the drums rather than the audience. Stan wondered if the levels were right and turned around to check with the sound guy, but he was already furiously working away so Stan didn’t bother him.
By song three, Ben seemed to have got into whatever groove he needed to be in. He looked so comfortable on stage, tall and sexy and sullen. And healthy. Pink cheeks, shiny hair, arms tight with muscle and some weight across his chest and on his arse, where it suited him. Instead of the more wild stage costumes that had started to appear in the past few years, all of the guys were wearing T-shirts and jeans.
Stan hadn’t had a part in that decision, but he approved of it. Everything they were doing was starting to build this impression that Ares were going back to their roots, that they weren’t a pretentious, unavailable band. They looked like any other group of people who got up onto that specific stage to play to a live audience, and Stan thought that was going to resonate.
At the end of the song, it took a few minutes for the crowd to calm down enough for Ben to step up to the mic and address them.
“I’m going to be self-indulgent now for a minute, so I hope you’ll forgive me for that,” he grumbled. Stan shook his head and smiled to himself. Ben had an incredible singing voice, but turned into a moody teenager when it came to public speaking.
Stan noticed mobile phones going up in the crowd, recording whatever Ben had to say for posterity. More phones. Plenty of people had been recording the whole thing. The rest of the band were watching him curiously too, and Stan wondered if Ben had given them a heads-up about this little announcement. Probably not, knowing Ben.
“There’s been a lot of bullshit written about us in the past year or so,” Ben continued. “About me, mostly, and a lot of it’s true. Sometimes life takes you in a direction you never expected, or brings you back to a place you never thought it possible to come back to. I’m really grateful to be here tonight—on multiple levels.
“Someone really important helped write this next song. For those of you who don’t know him, he’s my boyfriend, and I love him very much. This song is called ‘Girl Things.’”
The song opened with Ben’s guitar riff, and the rest of the band were poised and waiting for it, so the transition into the song appeared seamless. Stan stood in shock for most of it, amazed at Ben, yet again, managing to surprise him.
Ben had never been one for big, public declarations like that, especially not after the spotlight had been turned on him. He shied away from anything that could add fuel to the fire. It had been a while before he’d publicly come out, even though they were making no attempt to hide their relationship and plenty of people knew about it.
“Girl Things” sounded incredible live. Stan had heard it in rehearsals, of course, but it resonated around the room with a buzz that Stan felt all the way down to his bones. Summer leant a beauty and authenticity to the lyrics that would never have sounded right in Ben or Jez’s voice.
At the end of the song, Tone didn’t give the crowd any time to react, instead launching straight into “Teenage Kicks” and pushing the simmering emotion to the next level. They hadn’t played this live for years, not since people became far more interested in their original music than the cover. It held meaning, though, especially to the people who were here tonight. They understood the significance of it, and it was the final underline of the message they were pushing.
Ares was back—but more importantly, Ares was home.
Chapter Twenty Six
Ben stumbled to the small backstage area, which was more like a hallway with a toilet at one end and a little alcove with a sofa. He sank down onto the sofa because there wasn’t anywhere else to go and put his face in his hands.
Holy shit, he’d done it.
For the first time in over a year, he’d played for a live audience. For the first time in over three years, he’d done it stone-cold sober.
If anyone else got the significance of what he’d just done, they didn’t mention it. Only Tone briefly squeezed Ben’s shoulder before going to the fire exit to have a smoke.
Because of the open door, Ben could hear the crowd of people as they dispersed, out of Buck Shot and into the streets of Camden. Probably onto the next place, high on a great gig from a band who hadn’t played that well in a long time. People would write about this gig. Ben would do his best not to read about it.
“Hey.”
Ben startled, then looked up at Stan. “Hi.”
Without saying anything else, Stan climbed onto Ben’s lap and encouraged his head to rest on his shoulder. Ben was shaking, he could feel that now, and Stan gently combed his fingers through Ben’s hair until he felt a little more steady. That didn’t take long, not with Stan.
“You were incredible,” Stan murmured. He kissed Ben’s forehead. “I’m so proud of you.”
“I can’t believe I just did that.”
“I can. And you didn’t just do it—you totally rocked it. Even I got nostalgic.”
Ben laughed at that, and the knot in his chest loosened a little. He tilted his head back and Stan’s lips brushed over his own, once, twice, then a little more.
“Ben,” Melissa called from the other end of the hallway. “We’re ready for you.”
Stan frowned at him. “What’s going on?”
“Come on,” Ben said, taking Stan’s hand and leading him back into the now-empty venue.
The stage was still set up with all their gear, but now there was a tall stool in the middle of the stage and two microphones set up, one angled for the guitar and another for vocals.
“I need to record something,” Ben said. “I don’t know what we’re going to do with it yet, but… you’ll see.”
The techs had been working to set it all up: the two cameras at the back of the room, plus all the recording equipment. A small X, made with tape, was set on the floor in the middle of the audience space.
“You need to stand there,” Ben said.
“Me?”
“Yeah. I want to play it for you.”
Stan gave him a curious sort of look, then smiled. “Okay.”
In direct contrast to the sheer terror of going out in front of an audience, this wasn’t bad. Ben liked performing. He didn’t mind being on a stage, and he loved the instantaneous feedback of playing for a live crowd.
He wanted Stan to be the first person to hear this song.
The acoustic guitar was already set up and tuned; Ben pulled the strap around his shoulder and tested the strings. The tech had his hand up, indicating that they were already recording, so Ben just started to play.