The Show

RONNIE

~“It’s the way that your beauty takes the stage,”~

~Bigger than a star-struck grand parade,~

~Louder than the sound of rock 'n' roll,~

~Lights down, take a bow, you know you stole the show…”~

~– Sanctus Real~

***

Marlowe Hall was one of the biggest venues I’d ever seen. It was usually reserved for famous bands, so how Fraying God managed to book a gig here was beyond me.

But they did, and I was thrilled for Kyle.

Kyle had scored us tickets for the Golden Ring, so there I was, huddled with my friends among a sea of fans, waiting for the show to start.

“I didn’t realize they had this many fans,” Santana said, looking around. “This place is packed!”

“Kyle mentioned that Fraying God started out in small pubs and clubs about five years ago,” I replied. “They must have built up a following to land a gig here.”

“Yeah,” Santana said, still looking puzzled. “I guess so.”

The whole situation felt surreal. I knew Kyle was talented, but I’d never seen him as the type to really push for what he wanted.

Sure, he was a music student and he was good at it, but he always seemed too laid-back to really care about his career.

So, the fact that he was on the verge of making it big with a band he’d just joined was a big deal.

“Let’s hope he’s good,” Laura said, grinning. “If he messes up, we’ll never let him live it down.”

Santana and I laughed at that, and I found myself hoping Kyle would mess up just a little, so we could tease him. But then I decided to be a good friend and cheer him on, like I should.

Suddenly, the lights went out and the show began.

Kyle, the bassist, was right in front of us.

The guitarist and singer were next to him, and behind them were the second guitarist, the keyboard player, and the drummer.

I couldn’t see the drummer from where I was standing, but I figured the screens on either side of the stage would show him eventually.

The band didn’t bother with introductions. They just started playing one of their songs.

I’m no music expert, but even I could tell they were good. They played flawlessly, and the singer’s voice was raw and haunting.

They were a rock band, their songs were edgy and powerful, and since I loved rock, I was hooked.

“They’re good!” Warren shouted over the music. He was dancing with Ransom, who had his hands on Warren’s waist.

“They’re amazing!” I corrected him, grinning, and he laughed.

Santana and I danced together, while Laura swayed gently, cradling her baby bump.

Nick and Amy were wrapped up in each other, lost in their own world, and a few minutes later, Ransom and Warren followed suit.

The concert went on like that. Occasionally, some guys tried to hit on Santana and me—Laura’s baby bump seemed to deter them, but she didn’t seem to mind.

Both Santana and I turned them down by telling them we were lesbians. It was funny to see their reactions, and we even kissed a few times just to annoy the more persistent ones.

During one of the songs, Kyle had a solo, and we all cheered for him. He was shown on the screens, and to my surprise, a lot of the female fans screamed some pretty explicit things at him.

But I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised; Kyle was good-looking, and now that he was the bassist of a ~real~ band, he was bound to have fangirls.

After Kyle’s solo, it was the drummer’s turn, and when his face appeared on the screens, I froze.

Seeing Frey there was the last thing I expected.

“What’s wrong?” Santana asked, noticing that I’d stopped dancing.

I couldn’t answer. I was too shocked.

Frey was drumming like his life depended on it, grinning like a madman. He was wearing a dark blue tee that made him look incredibly hot, and his ear piercings, tattoos, and slightly messy mohawk made him look even more badass.

But he was Frey. He was a bartender. He ran a dojo. He was my mentor.

He wasn’t a rockstar, he wasn’t in a band, he wasn’t a drummer. He was an ex-military man, the son of The Shark of Las Vegas, not a band member…

Once his solo was over and he was off the screen, I snapped out of my daze and looked at Santana, who had given up on me and was dancing by herself.

But my mind was still on Frey, trying to make sense of what I’d just seen.

How was Frey Holmes the drummer of Fraying God?

***

We were waiting in line to go backstage. We had our VIP passes ready. When the burly bodyguard asked to see them, we showed him, and he let us in, albeit grudgingly.

Kyle met us at the entrance.

“You made it!” he said, grinning, and we all exchanged hugs and back slaps. “Come on, I’ll introduce you to the rest of the band.”

I followed everyone and Kyle backstage, feeling anxious.

What was I going to say to Frey? Would he be surprised to see me? Probably, but not as surprised as I was to see him. I mean, a rock band? How did I not know about this?

But then again, it had never come up. He was my mentor, not the other way around, and while we talked about personal stuff, he’d never mentioned his other job…

When we walked into the room, Frey wasn’t there, just the other band members.

“Hey, everyone,” Kyle greeted us, his grin wide. “These are my buddies.”

He introduced us to Rick, the lead singer and guitarist; John, the second guitarist; and Evan, the keyboardist.

They were all good-looking and friendly, and they couldn’t help but be drawn to Santana. She was a knockout, and they were still buzzing from the energy of the show.

Luckily, they didn’t pay much attention to me. Santana was more than enough to keep them occupied.

“Where’s your drummer?” I asked Kyle, while the others were busy chatting with the band about the concert.

Kyle raised an eyebrow. “He’s in the bathroom. Should be back any second—”

Just as he said that, the door swung open and in walked Frey.

At first, he didn’t notice me. Then he did a double take and stopped right in front of me.

“Ronnie?” he asked, his eyes wide with surprise.

I narrowed my eyes and walked over to him, ignoring Kyle’s shocked expression. I poked Frey in the chest, feeling a warmth spread through me just from being near him.

“Don’t ‘Ronnie’ me, Frey,” I said, irritation clear in my voice. “Why didn’t you tell me you were in a band?”

“It never came up,” he shrugged. “Besides, I’m not really part of the band.”

“Wait, what?” I asked, my eyes widening. “You were just up there, drumming like your life depended on it!”

“I was filling in for their regular drummer, who’s sick,” he explained, frowning. “Why are you so upset?”

My cheeks turned pink as the answer swirled in my mind. Because it bothers me that there’s something I don’t know about you, the guy I’m in love with.

Just thinking about the L word made me wince.

I hoped I hid it well.

“Because you’re my...friend.” I said, suddenly unsure if ‘friend’ was the right word for what we were.

Frey seemed to recover from his surprise and laughed. Then, he pulled me into a hug.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, okay?” he said, and I stiffened for a moment from the unexpected embrace.

But then I relaxed into his arms and gave him a light punch on the shoulder. “Is there anything else I should know?”

“Nope,” he said, releasing me. “Not really.”

“Hey, Ronnie!” Laura called out suddenly, and I turned to look at her. She was giving Frey a strange look. “You didn’t tell me you had a boyfriend.”

I blushed at the thought of someone calling Frey my boyfriend. I ~really~ needed to get a grip. Frey, however, casually draped an arm around my shoulders and grinned.

“We’re not dating,” he clarified. “I’m just a friend of Ronnie’s.”

On one hand, I was relieved he didn’t mention our mentor-student relationship. I’d only vaguely mentioned it to my friends, and I didn’t want to get into it right now.

On the other hand, I wished he would tell Laura, “Yes, I am her boyfriend,” even though it was clear he didn’t feel the same way about me.

And that hurt. But then again, I shouldn’t have fallen in love in the first place.

I shouldn’t have, because love only leads to heartbreak, and I didn’t want that. I didn’t want to feel heartbroken anymore.

But it was so hard to push away my feelings for Frey. He was kind, warm, sweet, and I loved him. I just loved him. And that was going to be my downfall.

“I didn’t know that,” Kyle said, giving me a reproachful look. “You could’ve told me you were friends with one of my bandmates.”

I raised an eyebrow at Frey. “You said you weren’t a band member.”

He let go of my shoulders.

“I used to be, when the band first started,” he explained.

“We named the band after him,” John, the other guitarist, chimed in, grinning at Frey.

“Godfrey has a unique name, so we changed our band’s name from ~The Silly Crazy-Nuts~ to ~Fraying God~.”

Another thing I didn’t know about Frey.

“Your full name is Godfrey?” I asked, surprised.

“I don’t like to advertise it,” he said pointedly.

“But it’s cool,” I told him, feeling my cheeks heat up. Oh God, I was turning into a lovesick teenager. I needed to stop.

“You don’t really mean that,” Frey winked at me, then turned to my friends, who were watching our interaction with interest. “Anyway, I’m Frey.”

After that, I stayed quiet while my friends grilled the band members, especially Frey.

Frey kept shooting me worried glances, which I ignored. I was trying to pull myself together. I needed to pull myself together.

I had to stop feeling these ridiculous emotions when it was clear Frey didn’t feel the same way.

In his eyes, I was probably more like a sister, or a student. He didn’t look at me with desire, didn’t seem to enjoy touching me. The attraction was all in my head.

It was unrequited love, and I knew it would be my downfall.

I had to find a way to get over him. But how could I when he was helping me overcome all my demons?

How could I when he was the best man I’d ever met?

How could I when his haunting, beautiful eyes seemed to see right into my soul?

How could I when he was the only person, other than my father—or maybe even more than my father—who truly understood me?

When it was time to leave, Frey said, “Ronnie—can I talk to you for a minute?”

I nodded to my friends to go on without me and turned to Frey, keeping my gaze on the floor. He sighed and gently lifted my chin with his finger.

“Are you upset?” he asked, his eyes searching mine.

With a defeated shrug, I admitted, “I don’t know.”

He raised an eyebrow, prompting me to explain further. “You’re my mentor, I get that. But I thought we were…friends.”

Despite how irrational it was, my heart yearned for our relationship to be something more.

“We are,” he assured me, letting out a sigh. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. It just didn’t seem that important, since I only play with the band occasionally now. It’s been a couple of years since I quit, after all.”

“I understand,” I replied, sighing as well. “I’m sorry for acting like a brat.”

He chuckled, pulling me into a tight hug.

“You’re not a brat, Rons,” he comforted me, “you’re my friend. Friends have the right to call me out when necessary.”

“But I feel like a brat,” I confessed.

A foolish brat who had fallen for the one man she shouldn’t have. Because love would only complicate my relationship with Frey, and that was the last thing I wanted.

Because I loved him, and he meant so much to me. He was one of the most important people in my life at this moment.

“So, stop feeling like that,” he advised, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “Anyway, do you want to know how you can make it up to me?”

I looked up at him, my breath hitching at his smile.

Damn him, why did he have to be so attractive? And his eyes…why were they so captivating?

“How?” I managed to ask, trying my best to hide the effect he had on me just by being so close.

“I’ll cover your share for the field trip,” he proposed, grinning triumphantly.

Rolling my eyes, I decided to give in.

“Fine,” I agreed, managing a small smile.

“Well then, you should get going,” he suggested, stepping back. “Be at the dojo with all your stuff by eight, okay?”

“No problem,” I assured him, and as I turned to rejoin my friends, I caught a glimpse of an emotion in his eyes.

I couldn’t identify it, but it sent a flutter through my stomach.