Authors: Natalie Barnes
Sophia
The house lights fade around me with only white stage lights illuminating the fog that drifts around my ankles. As the music begins to play softly, I take the mic and walk up the stage. Gentle air from the fans, blows on my body.
Singing tenderly into the mic, I pour my heart out for everyone, these touching lyrics that remind me of my dear friend. Tipping my chin, I close my eyes tight. Images of the last time I saw my friend, pale, lifeless, lying there on that bed, I start to crumble. Tears start to spill out of my closed eyelids. It seems the tighter I shut them, the more they come. In the darkness behind them, I see him.
But soon, color starts to spread across his skin again and I can see him opening up his bright eyes and smiling at me. No longer in the hospital, just hanging out with us, laughing and playing his guitar. When the lyrics ‘down here on my knees,’ come up, I press my thighs together, bending over the hidden blowers. I’m singing with full force, so strong that Cory can hear and feel this all the way up in Heaven.
Standing back up, I open my eyes, grateful that the lights aren’t bright because I’m sure everyone would see just how much I’ve lost it. How I’m able to keep my voice straight right now, I don’t know. Maybe my friend has given me the strength. Running my hand through my hair, I finish up the last parts weakly.
When the lights go out, my head drops forward. Screams start erupting through the arena and I begin laughing quietly to myself as the tears still pour down my face. That’s when I feel arms all around me and I know it’s my boys. Jeff stands back as Roger, Jared, and Matt all come together with me, holding onto each other. All their eyes are glistening, too.
“Rock on girl!” Roger breathes.
When we finally let go, heavy metal music begins to play in the background as the roadies get to work, setting up for Undead. Before I’m even off the stage, Tristan sprints up to me. Placing his hands on my face, he leans in and kisses me.
I let my heart speak for me, not even caring or worrying anymore about the little things. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I hold on to him. We just stand there holding each other ’til his band starts making their way out on stage.
Tristan nips at the sensitive spot below my ear, then pushes away some hair that has fallen into my eyes.
“Marry me,” he says, his deep voice low and breathy.
What?
Stepping back, I wipe my hand under my eyes, soaking up the tears and makeup that has run. Shaking my head ‘
no’
at him, I can’t help the delirious laugh that escapes my throat.
“Fuck, no!”
He narrows his eyes on me but keeps his cocky smile.
“You will,” is all he says before striding away toward center stage.
“No, I won’t!” I call after him.
Lux pats me on the back when I walk over to him.
“Good job, kid!” he smiles at me before heading off again.
I watch Tristan kicking off Undead’s part of the show, frozen in place. More like I’m in fucking shock! I can’t believe he just asked me to marry him! I know it was probably because he was in the heat of the moment, but still. Shit’s fucking crazy.
The band doesn’t start off with an introduction; instead, they play through a couple of songs, first. Tristan works the stage in just his ripped jeans and unlaced black Timberland boots, wearing his signature black sleeveless shirt that displays his strong arms. The material, as always, looks like it’s straining against his chest.
Damn . . . His voice roars through the speakers so powerfully, like an explosion. It’s so fucking different standing here and watching him, now. Two years ago, if you were to tell me this is what would be happening, I would’ve said, ‘what the fuck ever.’
My parents will be coming backstage after the show. I know I should change, but it’s so damn hard to leave when Tristan is out there. I love watching him on stage! He’s made for this; he takes it, devouring it. His whole show goes by one after another of their new and old material. It’s so intense; when one song ends, they tear out the next with only a few words every once in a while in between.
I realize that I have been smiling the entire time. My cheekbones are beginning to ache, but I just can’t fucking help it. Tristan glances over my way and grins at me, knowing I never left. He’s still staring at me when the lights around him fade to different shades of blue and white. Dave and Caleb keep up a smooth melody as Tristan begins to talk.
“Our last one for you guys tonight is from our new album,
Scars.”
Turning toward the crowd again, he rakes his hair off of his forehead with one hand.
“These Pieces Undone . . .”
Gunner starts up the drums and a roadie appears by my side, handing me a mic. Surprised, I look from him to Tristan, who is standing lazily with his arms crossed, waiting for me to come out. This wasn’t planned. We weren’t supposed to debut this song ’til Europe.
I wrap my shaking hand around the mic, slowly stepping back onto the stage. From behind me, I hear Matt wailing and clapping. I give him a quick smile over my shoulder.
More lights shine down on the stage and on me as I approach Tristan. The audience is going into overdrive, screaming and chanting for more. Tristan tilts his head back, wearing one of the sexiest grins I have ever seen on his handsome face.
His hand swallows the mic, his seductive voice rumbling from deep within his chest. He continues holding my gaze. As the song progresses, I hit it harder and harder, bringing the mic up to my lips and letting everything go until my lungs feel as if they’re splintering.
From Tristan’s softness to my hardness, the song takes you into its pain; pieces coming undone. Bending over the edge of the stage as I wail into the mic, I feel Tristan’s presence behind me. I snap my head back, throwing the curls and waves of my hair around me. Tristan begins to wail as I switch to my ‘pretty’ voice, telling my side of the story with the lyrics, as this time Tristan releases his own pain.
By the time Caleb’s solo comes up, Tristan is right beside me, tucking me under his arm as my hand falls against his chest. He’s being so bold with us now, and instead of running from it like before, I embrace it. At the final chorus we both finish off shouting into our mics as my background track idea plays softly in the background.
Out of breath, I step away from Tristan and bow one last time as Tristan hoarsely says to the crowd,
“You’ve all been fucking great! Thanks, Detroit!”
Everyone in the audience and offstage is clapping, whistling, and pretty much freaking, but in a damn good way. My adrenaline level is so high that the rush I feel right now is like nothing I’ve ever experienced before; it’s fucking better than any buzz I have ever had.
“You were fucking perfect tonight!” Tristan says to me as we walk off stage, yelling because it’s so intense in here right now.
“I didn’t fuck up,” I tease, grinning at him.
A deep, throaty laugh comes rumbling out of his chest.
“No. No, you didn’t.”
As we step off, Lux is shaking his head but his smile is huge, showing off his teeth.
“You were supposed to wait!” he jokingly scolds.
“I couldn’t,” Tristan replies simply.
“Okay, well. Beverages are out back here.”
“Yeah, fucking beverages. Woo!” Roger interrupts.
I shake my head at him. Gawd, you can’t take him anywhere.
Caleb and Jeff yell along with him as they start heading back. Right then, I remember that my parents are going to be back there and Tristan doesn’t know it.
“Um, I’ll meet you there . . . I have to change real quick.”
Tristan stares down at me.
“I can help you,” he suggests mischievously.
“NO!” I shout, laughing. His eyes widen. “I mean, I said
quickly
. You come to help me and it wouldn’t be quick. We have to be there on time.”
“Why is that?”
He raises his eyebrow, coming to a stop.
“Because, my parents are here!” I say back to him in a singsong voice, my own mischievous grin crossing my lips.
The look on his face is fucking priceless. I’ve never seen Tristan so worried looking before. This face, I just want a picture of it. This huge, 6’5 man actually seems nervous.
“Your parents are here?” He points down to the ground.
With a close-mouthed smile, I nod at him.
“Go back there with the guys. I’ll only be ten minutes.”
Even in heels, I still have to reach up to peck him on the cheek. Turning away, I make my way back to my dressing room. My body feels so high right now. I couldn’t feel any more fucking perfect.
When I open my dressing room door, Frankie is sitting on top of the vanity, his body twisted so he can see his reflection in the mirror, puckering his lips and tilting his head to different angles.
“It’s about time!” he says without turning around, still checking himself out. Finally he hops down, smiling at me. “I picked out something simple since your parents are here. Jeans, a corset top, boots . . .” He piles the clothing in his arms then pushes them at me. “Love the song, by the way. So hot!”
“Thanks, Frankie,” I grin as I begin to remove my barely-there top.
Frankie takes a seat right in front of me, his eyes widening.
“Damn girl, your boobies are so fucking huge!”
“Jesus, Frankie!” I say to him as I pull down my shorts so I can slip the corset top up my body.
His eyes continue to examine me. I almost feel uncomfortable, but he’s gay. Gayer than gay, so I don’t have to worry.
I work the corset up my legs. It’s dark gray with black lining on the side and center back. I can usually shimmy my way into these kinds without help.
“No, for real. They look fuller and shit. I heard that when women are . . .” He motions with his hand. Finally getting the corset over my hips, I start tightening it on the sides, turning around for Frankie to help with the hidden buttons on the back.
“Moon time,” I say, laughing at him.
“What the hell is that?”
“Girl time, but some people call it moon time.”
“Is that like a Michigan thing, or Native?” Frankie giggles behind me as he starts fastening the buttons.
“I don’t know,” I laugh back. “Maybe Native. My mom always calls it
moon time
.”
“Oh, that’s nice,” he says back to me, then steps away when he’s finished.
Turning back around, I go over to where I laid my jeans down and begin sliding them on.
“No, Frankie, not for another week,” I answer his question.
When I’m dressed, Frankie does a quick touch up on my makeup, removing the fading black and adding some more powder around my face.
“See you, honey. I’ll be out in a little bit. I have to get ready to bring sexy back.”
He winks at me and struts off to the attached restroom. I check myself out one last time. He’s managed to tame my hair and clean my face up in ten minutes. Pretty fucking fast. It takes me that long just to get fucking undressed and dressed usually.
All right, now it’s time to introduce Tristan to my parents. Holy shit, I’m actually kind of nervous. My mom is a smart woman. After the last tour, she kind of hinted around that she knew something was up. I wonder if they’ve talked already or if Tristan is hanging low ’til I come out.
Hanging low.
The image pops into my head. Fuck! Can’t I ever stop thinking about him in sexual ways?
Chapter Twenty-Four
Sophia
As I make my way down the hall to the back room were the after party is, Slipknot’s “The Devil in I” gets louder and louder the closer I make it to the door. Peeking my head in, I see my band, Tristan’s band, Lux, the roadies, and the techs with a few guys in suits all lingering around. Oh, and don’t forget the faithful groupies. Scanning the room, my face breaks out in a grin when I spot my parents standing by Jeff over by where the drinks are.
I’m so excited to see them that I don’t even realize Tristan is staring at me from across the room. Bouncing over to my parents, I throw my arms around my dad’s neck. He turns just in time and staggers from my embrace.
“Whoa!” he says, laughing.
My dad is taller than my mom, but not by much. He’s on the shorter side, I guess, compared to some, but he does have that intimidating Italian thing going. His dark hair is slicked back and the sides are starting to gray. His olive skin is rough, with wrinkles forming around his light eyes. That’s where I get mine from.
I love how he’s dressed, too! He’s always loved the rock scene. Wearing dark jeans and, aw, my . . . a Dollar Settlement t-shirt, he looks like one proud rocker papa.
“You were unbelievable tonight, Sophia!” he exclaims proudly.
“Thanks, Dad.”
Letting go of him, I face my mom and give her a gentler hug. Her body is long and lean, with her dark hair hanging loose around her shoulders. She’s wearing jeans, too, with a Dollar Settlement shirt with the collar cut off so it hangs off her shoulders, showing her dark purple tank top underneath. I love it . . . Big 80’s style!
“What a rush, hey?” My mom’s smile splits her face. “I love that last song that you did with, um . . .” She stops for a moment.
“Tristan,” I finish for her.
“Yes, Tristan.”
Her smile grows wider and so do her eyes when she looks past me. I already know it’s him; I always feel him before I see him. I look over just as he comes up to my side. My dad’s face lights right up.
“Tristan,” I tilt my head back, looking up at him. “These are my parents, Joe and Thea.”
Tristan’s mouth goes up at the side. Smiling back at them, he reaches his arm out.
“What’s up? Nice to meet you, sir,” he says as he shakes my dad’s hand.
“Holy shit!” my dad says back to him, excitement showing in his eyes. “Please, call me Joe.”
That’s definitely where I get my mouth from. My mom shakes her head for a moment at my dad, and then places her small hand in Tristan’s next. Her smile is still on, but her eyes seem to be studying his.
“Nice to finally meet you.”
This surprises Tristan.
Fuck.
It surprises me, too. No doubt our relationship is starting to appear on some of that tabloid and internet shit. My mom has no tolerance for that, but she can read people well, just like she read me a couple years ago.
“What did you think of your daughter out there?”
Tristan pulls me to his side, tucking me under his arm. This catches my parents off guard for just a moment, which makes my dad look even happier. My mom . . . not so much. She is very protective of me.
“Oh, I couldn’t be prouder. She’s the best thing ever.”
My dad’s eyes warm when he looks at me. If my face showed blushes, you would be able to tell right now.
“I couldn’t agree more,” Tristan murmurs.
Holy shit! My mom’s eyes widen again, but now she has her own little shit smirk going on. Oh, God!
“Tristan?” my mom says sweetly, looking up at him.
Tristan glances down. He nods at her as he rubs circles on my bare shoulder with his thumb.
“What exactly is going on with you and my Sophia?”
Fuck, mom! I narrow my eyes at her, but she ignores me, her eyes locked on Tristan’s. Tristan chuckles for a moment, shrugging his shoulders.
“With all due respect, Mrs. Mancini, she’s
my
Sophia now.”
Holy shit!
He winks at her, baring all of his teeth in a wide grin. I’m pretty sure my mom just felt that one. My dad nods at him; he couldn’t be happier with Tristan’s answer, but my mom cackles to herself, then glances at me.
“So whatever happened before won’t
ever
happen again?”
“Mama!” I quietly scold her, but she doesn’t care. Tristan pulls me to his side even tighter, shaking his head ‘no’.
“I know I fucked up, but I would lay my life down for your daughter. I’m in love with her.”
Motherfucking shit! Where’s the nearest place I can suck his cock
right now
? I swoon in his arms and it looks like my mom is about to swoon herself. My dad wraps his arm around my mom’s waist, grinning at the both of us.
“Well, you’re a good man in my book. Let’s drink to that!”
My dad raises his scotch and takes a drink. My mom is still staring at Tristan, but her eyes have softened.
Just as I’m about to grab myself a drink, my dad looks past me, his eyes widening.
“Who’s that?” he says, his face confused. That’s when I hear Frankie.
“Oh, Sophia’s mama! Hey, girl!”
Frankie comes barging in, scooping my mom up in a hug. She laughs quietly, but my parents are still not used to Frankie’s all-out attitude. Not the gay part . . . they couldn’t care less. Frankie is just very blunt. My dad’s never met him before, but I’m sure my mom has told him stories of the last time she did.
Frankie tugs at the hems of my parents’ shirts.
“OMG! Love the matching shirts!”
I laugh teasingly at them as I tug on Tristan’s hand.
“Well, I’m going to grab a drink. I’ll let you guys talk,” I say, waving goodbye.
We head over to grab a couple drinks. As we walk away, I hear Frankie.
“Thea, you look so
Dances with Wolves.
Absolutely fucking fabulous, girl!”
“Christ!” Tristan huffs, rolling his eyes.
“What?” I peek up at him, smiling.
“Him,” he gestures with his thumb back at Frankie.
“Oh,” I wave my hand dismissively. “My mom knows how he is. That’s one of the things I love most about Frankie. He doesn’t give a fuck.” Tristan smirks down at me.
“Yeah, it’s definitely Frankie, that’s for sure.”
Tristan hands me my Coors light then turns around and grabs his glass of whiskey. After taking a drink, I take a step back and look up at him.
“What do you think?” I wiggle my eyebrows at him.
Tristan’s eyes travel up my corset. I think I hear him growl. I slap him playfully on the chest.
“Not what I’m wearing. My parents!”
Tristan’s eyes are still glued to my chest.
“I know. They’re cool,” he answers gruffly.
Rolling my eyes at him, I turn away while bringing my beer up to my mouth. Roger comes over escorting a blonde with fake double D boobies. You can clearly see she isn’t wearing any panties or bra underneath her dress.
“Hey!” he nods at Tristan and me before addressing the blonde. “Babe, why don’t you go over there and get me another one before we header?”
She giggles at him then takes off. Fucking Roger. Turning to us, He runs his hand over the side of his head, slicking back any loose hairs that have fallen out of his ponytail.
“Fucking sweet, huh?”
I cock my head to the side, quirking my eyebrow at him.
“What’s that look for?” he laughs.
“Nothing,” I say, a cackle escaping my throat as I take another drink.
Roger gazes after his latest piece of ass.
“Time to push some guts,” he says without glancing back at me, then he’s off.
“Oh my God,” I breathe. Only Roger. Tristan laughs beside me but it sounds like he’s trying to hold it in.
“You men are sick!”
“Nah, baby. Only him,” Tristan says, still laughing.
A couple hours later and very buzzed, we head back to the hotel with my parents. Lux has set them up with a suite, too, which means Tristan and I won’t be walking down memory lane in the elevators.
************
We’re rolling into Atlanta now. We’re three weeks into the tour and every show has been fucking amazing! I slide out of bed quietly so I don’t wake Tristan.
After Detroit, he’s pretty much just stayed on my bus. The guys don’t mind. If there wasn’t an after party, they all partied out in the living area, anyways. One night, Tristan didn’t like my choice of Netflix and went out to play Call of Duty with my boys instead. I didn’t care. Actually, I like how he’s bonding more with them.
I can’t stop fucking peeing and I barely drank last night. I’m just not feeling up to it anymore. I think my poor body is trying to tell me to slow it down. I know I’m getting older and I’m not in college anymore, but shit . . . Roger can still throw down. Okay, not a good comparison.
After I’m done, I decide to take a shower right now since we’re going straight to the arena. Stepping into the lukewarm water, I quickly begin washing myself. Water, especially hot water, doesn’t last long in here.
Squirting some body wash on my loofah, I start making circular strokes over my body, wincing when I run it across my nipples.
“Fuck!” I hiss. That’s fucked up.
Trying again more gently this time, I wash the rest of my body. I don’t know. Something deep down is telling me something off, then like lightning, it hits me. I remember Frankie’s words from the other night’s show in Memphis.
“Damn, girl . . .” Frankie huffs as he’s trying to do up my shorts. “You should be off your ‘moon time,’ ‘sunrise,’ whatever . . . by now.”
I roll my eyes at him, getting annoyed.
“Frankie, stop! I’m not on it!” I snap back.
“Well, you sure are bloated! Take a fucking Midol before the next show, will ya?”
Oh, shit! The loofah slips from my hands when I realize, I haven’t started my period yet. I count back in my head. I should’ve gotten it about two weeks ago. NO!
The water grows cold as I stand there in a daze, thinking. Maybe I’ve put too much stress on my body and that’s why it’s all out of whack. Then, Tristan pounds on the door, causing me to jump.
“Babe, open up!”
“All right!” I squeak.
I forgot that I locked it. Turning off the water, I step out and grab my towel. Not even wrapping it around me, I let it fall in front of my body, just barely covering up my front as I push up on the lock and slide the door open.
“Sorry. I thought you were sleeping,” I mumble to Tristan, looking down.
“I was,” he says to me as he steps in. “But that water pump isn’t the quietest, and you’ve been in here for a while.”
His eyes search mine.
Shit!
Act cool.
“Just a little sore from last night. The water felt good.”
I give him a sexy grin. That works because his concerned face softens as he grunts at me.
“I can’t help it with you,” he says back to me seductively. Clearing his throat when we feel the hydraulics on the bus go off, he straightens back up. “Quick stop at the gas station, if you want anything,” he says to me.
I already know what I have to get, but how to do it without him knowing is going to be tricky.
I tell Tristan I want to stretch my legs, so he can chill in bed while I pick up some things. He didn’t want anything; I told him I was going to grab a couple of those crossword puzzles. He looked at me funny . . . suspiciously, I think. Shit!
Maybe it’s all in my head. Anyway, I told him I wanted to start doing them while Frankie was getting me ready for shows, or when I can’t find anything on Netflix. He laughed it off and I left.
Now here I am, walking down a fucking gas station aisle, grabbing the only pregnancy test they have here. Right before I step up to pay for it, I remember that I have to grab some crossword puzzles. Not seeing them, I go find the store clerk to ask where they are.
“Excuse me?” I faintly get out, my stomach fucking rolling. “Crossword puzzles?” I ask.
The older gentleman smiles back at me. Without saying a word, he points right behind me. Fuck! Right in fucking front of me. Rolling my eyes at myself, I fist a handful and throw them down on the counter, looking over my shoulder before laying the test down. My boys are still passed out, but even so, I don’t want to risk it.
Grabbing the brown paper bag, I nod to the clerk and head out. I think I’ve heard somewhere that it’s best to use your first pee of the day, but I’m impatient. Besides, I think I can go again, anyway. Stepping back onto the bus, I hear Tristan call out.
“Get what you needed?”
“Yeah!” I jump.
Shit!
“Be right there!” I call back to him.
Sliding the bathroom door open, I hurry and lock it. I don’t want him coming in here and seeing this. Shit! He’ll freak! I know it’s probably nothing, but I don’t want to worry the guy.