Please note the song in the header as it's quoted entirely in the chapter during Leed's performance...but maybe you want to listen to it when you get to the song lyrics. Otherwise, it's kind of a spoiler....
Ashlynn
I'm shaking as Leed backs away from me.He keeps his eyes on me, purses his lips in a kiss and then whirls to the side, gripping a guy in a hoodie holding a Fresca.
He pulls the hood away and forces his face into Bodie's, grinning as he grips the back of Bodie's head and speaking fast. I wonder very much what he's saying, but they deserve a moment of privacy.
And I can't help thinking unlike whatever Leed is saying to Bodie, what he wants to say to me, he's about to make very, very public.
I think about the picture of our baby tucked into the pouch lying over his heart.
"Oh, god," I whisper. "What is he doing?"
"What a Lion does. Claiming his territory," Kat whispers excitedly. "Come on, we have to run away a little bit. More fun for him if he has to stalk you."
My heart is beating wildly. "He shouldn't do...whatever...he's about...to do...so publicly. This isn't a game. "
Row puts an arm around my waste. "Fuck that. You're in love with a Front Man. Every Frontman is a hopeless romantic, because every song is about love. And love is the best game. The only game that matters. Get your ass on the golf cart and get out front so your man can make his play."
Leed cuts his eyes to me and raises his traditional pre-show shot. I can see what he loudly tells the band. "To new life."
"New life," they all murmur and knock it back. Chili and Adam cast off their shot glasses and stride out to the stage. Call-outs and whistles erupt as Adam gives a casual, "Hey neighbors. Sup?" while Chile beats out a count.
Leed gives me the chin tip. My face is smiling but I can hardly feel it.
As Kat and Row pull me away, Leed turns toward the stage, rolling his neck, waiting as Trace slings an arm over Mac's shoulders and they hit the spotlight. The crowd cheers in earnest as Trace waives.
We're driving up to the VIP in the golf cart now, but I'm watching the stage, waiting for Leed. It surprises me when Trace steps up to the mic.
"I might piss my front man off, but this is my hood and New Year's is kind of like...my gig. So I gotta steal his thunder for a minute. Can I get a light? Thanks man," he says as the spotlights focus soley on him. He shades his eyes and scans the crowd. "Hey I know you," he points at somebody. "Sorry I stole your Ipod back in seventh grade, man. Really I just borrowed it, but then I broke it. See me after, I'll make it right. Since I'm walking down memory lane......is Deacon Johnson here? I wrote a song about you...you know what that shit is about, right?"
"Oh fuck!" Kat hisses, stopping the cart and jumping out scanning the crowd for Deacon.
"Here!" somebody yells down near the front. A bunch of what looks like rowdy frat boys yell and raise their hands over him, pointing down at him.
The guy who's been singled out yells in a slurry voice. "Yeah I know what it's about! I kissed Kat Ballard! Stole her first kiss right out from under you, loser!"
"Fucker..." Kat growls. Suddenly I'm laughing and I don't feel so freaked out anymore. It's pretty funny that Kat's getting called out for her first stolen kiss. I wonder if our parents knew she was messing around with Deacon since seventh grade.
"Loser, huh?" Trace laughs his pissed off laugh.
"Oh god, baby, do not jump off that stage and start some shit..." Kat pleads under her breath.
All Deacon's drunk rowdy friends are barking and slapping hands. One of douchebag boys actually says "Burn!" and another one yells, "Come on. Let's go, Gallant!" Then, "Your band's trash!"
"Oh my god," Row's voice is thick with disgust. "Is that what frat boys are like?"
"Yeah. They are all mentally twelve years old. Permanent alcohol impairment," I tell her, smiling, thinking of Cam at that age, who was not quite that douchey but every bit as arrogant. My mom said he's dating a girl in Nashville. I hope he's found his match this time.
Trace laughs more easily. "If y'all weren't so fucking drunk, I'd have you booted. But I don't want you driving anywhere." He goes to the side stage and comes back with a full bottle of brown liquor. "Happy fucking holidays. Now you shitbags can party til you pass out in somebody's basement tonight."
They are all laughs and cheers now, "That's some damn good bourbon. You're all right, Gallant."
"Yeah," he says. "Oh...and Deacon? It's cool, man. About Kat. You're the punk that kissed her first, but I'm damn sure the man that's kissing her best. And last."
"Awwwwww," Row and I scream and the crowd becomes aware of us, hooting and whistling as we climb off the golf cart and move toward the roped area where my parents, the kids, the nanny, and Trace's parents are.
Trace is shading his eyes, "Where are you, baby?"
Kat flashes her phone light at him.
"There you are." He blows her a kiss. "Six years ago tonight. I kissed you the first time. You were just a sophomore in high school, and I thought I was grown, even though I was a just a kid, too. Knew it was kinda wrong as I was leaning in. Then it was nothing but the rightest thing I ever felt. And I woulda waited a lot long than the two and half years it took to finally kiss you again. Remember that night? I played this song for you..."
He strikes down on the blurry chords of Everlong and sings "Hello. I've waited here for you. Everlong."
It's a mixed age crowd and alot of the older folks go crazy for the classic alt-rock song. Kat, Row and I are inside the velvet rope patio now, and we have a perfect few to enjoy the song. My dad is holding Ollie, bouncing him to the tune. Gina Gallant has apparently made fast friends with Lennon because she's dancing with her.
I'm looking at Ross Gallant. A man I've only spoken to on the phone since the night six years ago that he nearly killed me in a drunken accident. He's looking at me too, swallowing heavily.
I remember him of course, but I mostly remember him looking much younger, from when I was little. He and Gina always seemed so much younger than my parents, and of course they were--a decade younger. Most young parents their age could never have afforded their affluent lifestyle that my parents worked so hard for, but Ross's family owns a successful small hardware chain for several generations and he was a trust fund kid.
Kat smiles at him and he gives her an uncomfortable smile back, but then his gaze returns to me. He's heard me say the words, "I forgive you. You were sick. I know what that's like," but I wonder if he's truly forgiven himself. It took me awhile to grant my own forgiveness. I walk over to him.
"What do you think?" I ask, gesturing to Trace on the stage.
He smile loosens. "Incredible. God, he's so talented. You know, that's the first song I ever taught him to play. To see his mastery, his dedication...and his presence. He's a different person up there..." Ross shakes his head, at a loss for more words in his pride.
"He's free up there," I agree. I squeeze his arm. "He heals up there, a little bitâevery time. I'm glad you are here to see it."
"Thank you," he says. "So am I."
We cheer and scream as the band closes the song.
Then Leed is walking onto the stage, his velvet swirling as he raises his arms to crush Trace in a hug. The crowd noise elevates to a surprising height. It sounds like a full stadium.
Leed swipes a mic from a stand and stalks the stage, clapping it out with Adam, pointing a finger at Chili, blowing Mac a kiss and then swinging back around dramatically to the crowd. "Happy New's Rocking Eve!" he grins. "If we haven't met yet, I'm Leed Lawson. We're neighbors. The band bought our guitarists old house. You all know Trace So sometimes we live at 605 Milledge. Now, we don't usually do that. Tell people our address. But hell, who are we kidding. You've probably heard rumors that we own the place.
"Or figured it out from the obnoxiously loud muscle cars you guys race up and down Milledge, then park in the yard." Mac says dryly.
"Hey everybody met my sister on our keys? Mackenna Lawson-Heartley?" Mac's wearing a fluffy gold shrug and she blows them a kiss. The crowd cheers. "And her husband on bass, Adam Heartley?" Adam is a tough guy, braving the cold in nothing more than a black button down with sleeves rolled up. He waves a braceleted arm and leans in on his mic.
"Yeah, Mac doesn't like the classic muscle car collection. Says they are loud and wake our kidsâLennon and Cash." He turns around and puts a hand on his heart. "I'm sorry, Shortcake. We're gonna tone that downâthe drag racing up and down the street.
Chili is in fishnets, jean shorts and a short sleeved black sequined top, cause she works up a sweat even in winters. She's got a headset mic, and she stands up from her kit and raises her drum sticks. "Don't worry neighbors, I always make sure they block the street off and there are no kids out there before I drop the flags." She cuts her stick down through the air dramatically. She gets lots of love from the crowd, cause she's so fricking adorable.
"Our drummer ladies and gentlemen! Chili Malone! Kicking bass drums and tires! Thanks for keeping everything safe on the block, girl!"
After the applause dies down, Trace pipes up. "Hey Chili, I been wondering. Where did you get your nickname?"
"I'm pretty sure a punk like Deacon gave it to me when I wouldn't come across in his backseat at fourteen. It stuck, but I kinda like it."
"That's because you are a stone cold killer," Mac pipes up.
"You know it, baby girl." The crowd cheers.
"About the drag racing, for real, we're sorry about that. It only happened once and we realized it was...not cool. Unsafe, inconsiderate. Won't happen again, neighbors. We promise," Adam says humbly, making an apology for the incident last fall that prompted this whole benefit concert.
"What he means is we are gonna take it to the outside," Trace pipes up, looking like a devil in leather. " So if you guys know any good local streets where we could settle that shit before the cops show up, let us know.
"Also, if you wanna play for pinks...you can come along," Leed encourages.
"I'm down, Lion!" a voice calls out from the back of the VIP, using Row's mic.
Adam grins. "Is that you, Rawlins?"
"Yeah."
"That's my buddy from Nashville who rode down to ring in the New Year with us. Thanks for coming down, man."
Leed crosses his arms, looking for Rawlins. "Now I see you, man. But I also seen your ride. That whip is weak. Talk to me about your boat next time I come to visit my sister."
"It's on," Rawlins assures him.
"You don't actually own a boat, you know," Adam reminds Leed.
He grins. "Imma race your boat. If I lose it, shit. I'll buy you another one."
Adam pretends to consider. "Alright, then."
The lion gives his brother a fist pump. "Cool. So like I was saying before my sister so rudely interrupted me with her gripe, we are on Milledge now, but unlike Trace, I didn't grow up here. What is weird though...our old drummer and I used to have a summer landscaping job and we worked here all the time. In fact he's here tonight to hang with usâBodie Jamison. Bodes, say hello manâ" Bodie steps off side stage and salutes the crowd with his Fresca.
"Bodes you remember that day we threw mulch here, and we swapped our sad stories and decided to become rock stars?"
Bodes joins Adam at his mic. "How could I forget? I don't remember a damn thing about your sad story though. I just remember the blisters on my hands." He looks out at the crowd. "Y'all got a lot of damn flower beds to mulch here, let me tell ya."
The crowd laughs. The Lion slings his mane.
"Anyway, back then, I couldn't imagine livin' in a neighborhood like this. But now that we've been residing here part time for a few years, I know many of you. You guys are good people and I appreciate the love this community has. But...listen. Seriously. if y'all want your boy from the hood to sing tonight, I'll turn it over to Trace and hit the VIP back there with my honie. It's cool..." he makes a show of offering the mic to Trace.
Row pulls a mic from nowhere. It's adjusted to make her just loud enough for distinction but still like a fan in the crowd. She yells. "Eff that! We want to hear the Lion roar!" The crowd automatically takes up the chant.
Lion, Lion, Lion
Leed tosses his hair and continues to stalk the stage, raising his hands, encouraging them.
"I think they want you, man," Trace says dryly.
He laughs at Trace. "Sounds like, huh?"
"Yeah, pretty sure they want you," Adam says, just as dry.
"Let's do this, then. Cause I got song a for them. Now these days, we usually start the show with Little Sister, and you all know that's a song about Trace's girl Kat Ballardâshe grew up on Milledge too, but since Trace jacked my opener, I'm feeling like we might as well free-style a little bit tonight. Can I get my Gibson out here? And a stool? Cool," he nods at the roadie.
"While Rick is micing my guitar, let me tell you a little bit about the Ballard sisters. You might now them personally from the neighborhood, or you might know them because you follow Soundcrush, and Trace and I are the bastards lucky enough to be dating them. Or maybe you follow Kat on Instagram. Or maybe you big into philanthropy, and recongize that they both work for MdM Philanthopies. But this is something you don't know about them. I like to call them Ballard A and Ballard B, but that's only me. No one else really calls them that, but it underscores that Ballard A, Ashlynn, and Ballard B, Kat are quiet different. Ballard B--she's a trip. She's a little bit like me..."
I jump as Kat jerks the microphone from Rawlins and purrs. "I'm nothing like you, Leed Lawson."
Leed laughs. "Oh yes, you are. You're a little bit rebellious, a lot outgoing, and all about the fun."
"Yeah, that sounds about right," Trace smirks. Murmurs of agreement from the rest of the band follow.
"Wait, wait, wait," Chili booms as she taps a snare restlessly. "Are we saying Trace is basically...in love with Leed?"
"You know, I never picked up on their tension as the sexual kind, but I see it now," Adam quips immediately.
Catcalls puncture the night as Trace shoots Adam a bird and Leed puts down the guitar and swaggers up to Trace, opening his coat and offering Trace a view of his god-like physique. Trace pushes him off and Leed laughs.
"Nah. Our bromance was sadly superceded by his Kat-colored glasses. But back to what I was saying about the Ballard girls. Ballard B likes to be front and center and she's got the chops to front any stage she wants. But AshlynnâBallard Aâshe's shy. She doesn't enjoy the limelight, but she shines there as bright as any star. Doesn't have a clue about her own gravity. She's almost always the sweetest, most gracious girl in any room and I'm a lucky bastard to be able to call her my girlfriend of nearly three years. Where are you, Ashlynn?"
Kat thrusts the microphone into my hands.I had really been enjoying their antics up to this point, but now my heart starts to race at being singled out again. I'm aware that a spotlight swings around and I can feel my silver sequin pants blinding the crowd. Suddenly I feel very exposed and I have an urge to put an hand on my stomachâan instinct to protect my baby, I think. But shy as I am, I'm a red carpet veteran by now, so I keep my posture relaxed and hand at my side.
"Here, Lion," my voice rings out into the night.
He already knew. "Hey, Sunshine. You look very beautiful tonight."
"Thank you. You look like a Dark Prince tonight."
He grins and flaps his velvet coat. "What this old thing? So listen, I know you don't like it very much when I put you on the spot like this and make you part of the show, do you?"
"Mmmmm, not really, no," I admit.
"Okay, so about how this? I'll just talk a little bit about you before this song I wrote for you, and then they will take the spolight off you while we rock this crowd hard, and then I'm going to shut us down with a little last song dedication to you, how does that sound?"
I tuck my curls behind one ear and give him a shrug and nod. "Okay, that doesn't too bad."
Leed's bright white smile shines out in the night. "Thank you for playing my rock star games, Sunshine." He puts his mic in a stand as he grabs his acoustic from Rick the Roadie. He kicks up a boot on the stool rung and fingers the opening to December Dawn softly.
"Trace told his New Year's story about Baby Ballard B, but I've got one about the first time I met Ballard A. It's been about seven years since I met Ashlynn. Not on New Year's, but the winter solstice. Saw her across the room and it didn't feel like the darkest night of the year. I watched her and I did not know what day it was. What time it was. I got lost in her light."
I feel planted to the ground. Leed is locking me down with his presence.
"But back then, I didn't trust my instincts, and I didn't believe in love or fate or the power of spiritual attraction. All I knew was she was beautiful and I had get up next to her for the night, you know? Have a little fun? I flirted with her hard, but the whole time I was getting to know her a little, the truth was breaking all over me. This girl, it wasn't just her physical beauty that was blinding. It was her inner light.
"I was fast coming to the conclusion that she was not one-night material. The truth was...that really scared me. I wasn't ready for her light, but her gravity was drawing me in. I couldn't help myself. An hour in with this girl, and I was already in too deep. I was this close," he leans into the mic, his words caressing it like a lover.
He looks gloriousâbedrooms eyes coaxing and his look of love shadowed in the lights, his mane shining bright. Then he sighs heavily and backs away, bowing his head over his guitar. "But I couldn't close the deal on that first kiss. She waived me off."
He's holding our friends and neighbor's in the palm of his hand. Murmurs of sympathy ripple in the crowd and I cover my face in embarrassment for this very intimate story he's telling. And he hasn't even sung a note. I'm terrified of how much more intimate his stories might get over the course of the set.
"This song is about that night. The kiss that wasn't. The regret I held over it. All the years I wished I could go back and get it right. Be a little less arrogant. A little more genuine. Win her heart and not just her passing attention. Kiss her sweet and hold her close all night. Wake with her in the December Dawn."
Leed opens with just the acoustic. It's a song familiar to me, because he often plays it for me, but the world has never heard it in its original form. After two verses, Leed stops singing, but continues to strum a backing rhythm. Bodie walks out on stage with agogo bell and hops up Leed's tempo, and after the new groove is established, and Leed speaks again.
"It took me more than four years to get a second chance to really connect with Ashlynn, and when that chance finally came, a lot of things had changed. In some ways, I was better off. I was rich, and famous. On top of the world. Ashlynn was struggling. She'd had an accident, and she had some health problems. Her light was flickering and it hurt me to see that. Really touched me in a place I didn't even understand.
"All I knew was that...I had to do something to help her. I reached out as a friend. I encouraged her. I gave her some suggestions, some ideas. She took those and she took charge of her health and turned her life around. I was a little bit older and wiser by now, and as I watched her new dawn, I was pretty sure that I was falling for her. But before there was any space between us for romance, it was suddenly me that was struggling. I was about to have a kid with another woman, and I was scared.
"All through that experience, Ashlynn was there for me, encouraging me, supporting me, making me believe I could be a good father. Somewhere along our paths of encouraging each other, we built something solid. Something real. A friendship based on compassion, affection, understanding. We had a new dawn. And it was then her light set me on fire and one day...long before I was able to actually admit it to her, I gave my heart to her. So this song is also about that time, too. Our second chance. Leaving behind regrets and starting something new."
Leed's rhythms changes and Adam and Mac come in, and then Chili and finally Trace and suddenly the bittersweet acoustic version of the song he wrote for me blossoms into the radio version that world knows. Leed rises from the stool and he and Bodie jam to the beat as his voice soars.
When the song is done, the crowd cheers wildly. Leed accepts the praise for the band and hushes them with a raised hand. "So we are about to kick this show up, but I have one more thing I need to say. I have little secret I want to share right now."
I feel like I might faint. Is he going to tell this whole crowd that I'm having his baby? Oh my lord, it will be a media frenzy. I'm not even out of the high-risk zone. I just found out two days ago, I'm not ready for the world to know. Suddenly I find myself switching on the microphone.
"Leed! Leed! Probably not a good idea to tell your secret to five thousand people," I say hurriedly.
"Naw, baby," he shakes his long shining mane and pouts. "You know how much I hate secrets. It's definitely time to out this one."
"Really, Leed, it's not time...you need to keep this secret..." I insist.
He throws back his head and laughs wildly. Oh god, my reckless Lion, I love you but please don't do this to me...I can't have five thousand people looking at me and knowing I'm knocked up and not married.
Shit. Damn. There, I said it. Yeah all that stuff I said to my dad this morning about being okay with raising a family with Leed and never getting married? Yeah, well, I'm working on being okay. I'm a hippie chic with somewhat traditional values. I got issues. I'll work through them. Just not tonight, with five thousand people watching...
"Leed," I whisper into the microphone.
He puts a hand on his hip beneath this velvet coat and leans forward a little "Ashlynn," he whispers back. "I'm telling you, you really want to hear my secret. I've been keeping it from you and the guys for about three years."
My mouth is hanging open. "Huh?"
"Leed! You kept a secret!?!?" Mac cries dramatically and bounces a few ominous chords on her keys.
"Yes, I did, Macaroni. I can keep a secret of my own, I just hate it when people keep secrets from me," he winks at her. "Like you did. Sleeping With Adam behind my back for years."
"Bygones, Man," Adam interjects.
"Fine. Bygones. I like my niece alot so I'm actually glad you couldn't keep your hands off my sister and gave me my little Cheesie-Weesie. Anyway back to my story, thank you very much."
"Sure, go ahead," Adam slings an adorable smile and a muscled arm at Leed.
"So like I was saying...a few years ago, I started a little secret ritual I didn't tell anyone about it. I keep talismans with me when I perform, representations of my girlfriend and my son."
He fingers one of the leaf shaped pouches on his unusual necklace, and shakes a small object into his hand. He strides over to the cameraman, and the tokens in his hand splash large across the jumbotron at the backstage. Two gold charms on a charm hoop. One is a lion cub, and one is a sunflower.
"Before my son was born, we called him the Cub, and that represents him. And Ashlynn, I call her my Sunshine, but if I get her flowers, they are sunflowers, so that one represents her. I never told anyone about my little ritual of carrying them with me on stage, because these guys up here give me shit about being too sensitive.
"But you know what? I'm not ashamed of the love in my heart for Ashlynn and my son. So tonight I put those talisman in this necklace, where everyone can see, and I'm always going to wear it when I perform. I'm always going to bring my loved ones with me. On the stage, on the road, wherever I go. I have a fierce love for those two, and I also have faith that there's a lot more love in our future."
He reaches down to his necklace and draws one of the little pouches to his mouth, kissing it. I know it must the one with the picture of our baby. "So now you all know," he tucks the charms back in the leaf pouch and holds it against his heart. "Every song in my heart is sung for them."
The crowd whistles, claps and builds to a steady thunder of applause. I'm struck still, locked in a direct flow of love with Leed as he stares me down, holding me, Ollie and our baby against his heart.
We are a family, I realize. Maybe not legally, maybe not conventionally, but we are a family. I'm not Ollie's only mother, but I am just as much his mother as Ben is his father. Suddenly I want our son in my arms. I turn to my dad and Ollie reaches for me as I reach for him. "Do you see your Daddy on the stage? He's getting ready to sing for you," I whisper to him.
He smiles at me and I raise his arm and help him wave wide so that Leed can see. "Hey Little Man. Love you. This next song I'm going to sing is called Carnival. It's about an adventure I had with your Auntie Mac. Just like the adventures you're gonna have with Len."
Mac laughs in the background and adds, "Hopefully more supervised. Let's go!"
Then Chili is yelling the count and one of Soundcrush's most energetic songs spreads magically through the night. Leed whirls into motion, transforming from storyteller into a fascinating fusion of sound and motion. He's truly mesmerizing when he performs.
I remember all those years ago when I told him I believed in magic and he said he didn't know how to make it. He always knew. On the stage, he is a sorcerer and Soundcrush is his cauldron.
He weaves his spell for two hours. He raises the crowd to one voice, one belief, one purpose. When he ends with Little Sister, the whole crowd is with him, singing in unison, and Kat and I have the babies in our arms, and are embracing each other. Even we are singing the song that is about the night and the hurt that shaped us both but no longer causes us pain.
I think the show is over as the lights go down and the crowd roar goes up to a level that won't relent, but I'm surprised because there's a good fifteen minutes until the countdown to New Year's. I'm talking to Ollie and Lennon, preparing them for the loud fireworks that are coming and the fact that I will put their noise cancelling earphones back onâthey wore them on and off through the show as they tired of the setâ when to my surprise, my dad and Mike Rawlins are insisting we pass off the kids to them. "You been holding them for hours, take a break," my dad says.
Kat drags me over to the hospitality table and force feeds fruit into my mouth. "Oh, you just smeared your lipstick eating that," she says.
"You mean, you smudged my lipstick shoving that in my mouth?" I mumble.
"Whatever," she says hastily and she's suddenly glossing me, and powdering me and recountouring me. "Row, chubby eye pencil, stat!" she hisses like a surgeon and Row is slapping a matte pinkish stick in her hand. I rear back from my sister's alarming jab near my eye.
"Oh, god Kat, really? Do we have to post to Instagram?"
"Yes, we do. Your boyfriend has forty million followers that want to see what he's up to on New Year's Eve, and he's wearing more make-up than you are. He can not look prettier than you. Not tonight! Not on my watch!" she hisses with determination.
I give in as she grabs my head and attacks my lids while Row blinds me with a her phone flashlight. I smack her hand away when the lights on the stage slowly raise.
Leed alone is lit. Standing center-stage with his legs spread and his head bowed. His long thick tresses are blowing slightly as a chilly wind kicks up, but he ignores the hair in his face.
His focus is internal. He's meditating, but I don't think the crowd realizes. I can tell by the rise and fall of his breath. Watching him, my spine racks with shivers, and it has nothing to do with the blowing cold.
Like he's suddenly found his balance, he is in motion. He raises his microphone to his mouth, but his gaze remains on the floor in front of him. "Ashlynn, do you remember I told you I had a final dedication?"
Row is pushing the mic into my hands again.
"Yes, I remember." I can't imagine which Soundcrush song it might be. They've done all their hits except Seven Minutes, but that's a break up song, not really a love song.
"Before I dedicate this song, I just have one more thing to say to everyone, about you. It's not easy on Ashlynn, being with me. I'm not an easy man to love. I know that."
I want to say that's not true at all, but I don't want to interrupt his speech.
"I'm strong-willed. I'm full of myself. I'm dramatic. I'm reckless. I'm bigger than life. The things that make me have enough presence to give to the stage, also force her to share me. Ashlynn puts up with it allâmy ego, my life on the road and in the spotlight, the fame. The gossip and rumors and outright lies about her, because of me.
"And if that's not bad enough, recently I did something unforgivable. If you don't follow Hollywood, the short version is I made Ashlynn cry on a red carpet, just weeks ago. By being dismissive of our relationship and our future. By not having her back. By not protecting her in the world I asked her to step into.
"Because of what I said, or really because of what I didn't say, she endured so much static and disrespect from the media that I took her out of the country for the holidaysâan escape from the problems that come with loving me. I didn't want her to hear one more time on social media that I'm never going to commit to her. That her hopes and dreams for us are higher than mine."
His eyes lift to mine. "Ashlynn, they aren't. Our hopes and dreams are the same. I'm finally striding to catch up to you. Hear me, baby: Fuck what I said for so long. Fuck what you heard me say over and over about not being ready. I need you to listen now, as I sing a new song."
Mac's synthesizers fill the night, heavy and dramatic, and then they break as Trace strikes an acoustic and Leed begins his first line in perfect time. It's a cover of a Beyonce song, but in the classic alt-rock style.
On my mind up past my bedtime, no rest at the kingdom
Alone in my place, my heart is away
All that I can think of is, we should get married
We should get married
Let's stop holding back on this and let's get carried away
He reaches into his pocket.
The crowd is hushed as he pinches a ring between two fingers. The camera man rushes to his feet, and a rose gold engagement ring fills the giant screen.
Stop making a big deal out of the little things
Cause I got big deals and I got little things
Got everything I'm asking for but you
Stop making a big deal out of the little things
Let's get carried away
Come right now, you know where I stay
I just wanna say, you're mine, you're mine
I just wanna say that you're mine, you're mine
Fuck what you heard, you're mine, you're mine
All I'm really asking for is you
You're mine, you're mine
I just wanna say that you're mine, you're mine
Fuck what you heard, you're mine, you're mine
As long as you know who you belong to
From midnight til 8, I think 'bout you
You own my nights, I don't know what to do
I can't get no rest, can't get no sleep
This whole thing's gone way too deep and we should
Leed leaps off the stage and begins to make his way up the grassy slope toward me. A camera man walks backwards towards me and a thousand cameras flash, but I pay no attention. All of me is taking in all of him as he sings the most chill, most steady, most tender rhythms I've ever heard him make. It's love, but it's a sure love.
Stop making a big deal out of the little things
Cause I got big deals and I got little things
Got everything I'm asking for but you
Stop making a big deal out of the little things
Let's get carried away
Come right now, you know where I stay
I just wanna say, you're mine, you're mine
I just wanna say that you're mine, you're mine
Fuck what you heard, you're mine, you're mine
All I'm really asking for is you
You're mine, you're mine
I just wanna say that you're mine, you're mine
Fuck what you heard, you're mine, you're mine
As long as you know who you belong to
He enters my space and looks me up and down like he's ravenous for my answer, but he keeps singing the last verse, which is a long cocky ramble that couldn't describe how it is between us better if he had written it himself.
I gotta pull up on you
You gon' make me have to pull up on you
Don't go Ghost on me, I'mma go Thriller on you, I'mma just
I'mma let my hands do the talking when I see you, baby girl
I miss feeling on you
I miss everything that's real about you
And that's everything about you that's just how I feel about you
I been about you and I'm still about you but
We ain't finished talking
I believe it's true
All I'm really asking for is you
He's standing in front of me with the ring in his palm and I can't even look at it, because I can't look away from his face. His expression is so calm and encouraging but his eyes are wells of fiery emotion. Lusting. Pleading.
He hands his mic to Kat and slowly lowers onto one knee, holding up the ring.
"Are you just asking because you think you are supposed to?" I whisper, my hand brushing my stomach.
One corner of his mouth lifts. His vivid green eyes shine steady. "Ashlynn, I'm a fucking rock star. I don't do what I'm supposed to. I do what I want. What I want is to give you my name, my babies, my fame, my fortune, my family, my world."
I stroke his gorgeous hair. "You've come such a long way, rock star."
He splays a hand on my belly. "Yeah, I finally learned how to conjure that magic you asked for."
I laugh and sob and nod. "That might be the truest thing you've ever said."
"Sunshine, how long are you gonna keep me on my knees?"
"You just look so damn good down there in that coat. Like a modern fairy tale."
He spreads his arms wide and tosses his hair, bringing more drama. "Marry me. Be my Queen."
I hold my hand out for the ring. "Rise, my king."
He slides the ring on my finger and his lips to mine in nearly the same instant.
Fireworks in my brain. Fireworks in my heart. Fireworks in my belly.
Fireworks in the sky.
"Ah fuck! We missed the countdown!" Trace yells into the mic. "Happy New Year! Happy New Life to Leed and Ashlynn!"
Well, what do you think? Is it over? Or do we need to see the destination wedding and Lil Mango's birth?