Hope Begins to Fade

Backstage Pass

The energy was amazing and I grinned down at the Stallyns who were wearing earmuffs that made them look as though they were about to start operating jack-hammers. They were both bouncing on their toes with excitement and I was glad that I'd brought them along.

Originally my plan had been to stay with them at the hotel. We'd spent most of the day in the pool, me reapplying my sunscreen every two minutes and the boys asking me at approximately the same frequency when my tail was going to grow. The cheeky little brats found that highly amusing. Although he'd been gone when I'd woken up Matt had found us pool side at lunch time. I hadn't seen any of the others all morning although Steph had messaged me inviting the Stallyns and me to go exploring with her. I'd declined knowing that denying the boys any pool time would be the flashpoint of a revolution. I was reaching forward to slather another layer of sunscreen on my legs when I felt a cold can press between my shoulder blades. I ducked away with a shriek as I looked up to see a smirking Matt standing beside my sun lounge. He waggled a can of Coke in my face and asked, "Thirsty?"

I laughed at him and picked up the fruity drink that was almost as big as my head, "Nope. I'm rocking the mocktails. I think they just decided to juice the entire contents of the fruit section of a supermarket and poured it into a glass. Want to taste?" I held the glass out in his direction. He curled a hand over mine and without taking the glass from me drew it closer. With his free hand he took a hold of the straw and then wrapped his lips around it before taking a long pull. When he was finished he smacked his lips together. "Mmmmm. Vitamins." I blinked at him, a little dazed by just how good he looked with a drop of juice clinging to his full bottom lip. The urge rose up in me to lean forward and lick it off.

For just a few moments I indulged in some very, very inappropriate thoughts about my boss.

"Dad!" The deafening squeals of the Wyld Stallyns snapped my thoughts back to reality and I realised that Matt's fingers were still curled around mine as they clutched the glass. I tugged my hand and the glass free from him just in time for the boys to attack him in a flurry of enthusiasm and dripping water.

Matt stayed long enough to eat a burger with us and to extract promises from the boys to not keep me out in the sun too long and then one from me to bring the boys along to the show that night. Foolishly before we'd left home I'd admitted to him that I'd never been to any kind of rock or metal concert and that the closest I'd ever been to live music was when I'd secretly watched Ryan's teenage band rehearsals or when there'd been some kind of musical duo playing in bars or restaurants I'd been to. He'd been horrified and had made the arrangements to ensure that the boys and I would be comfortable backstage.

The Stallyns were tired and cranky when we finally made it back to the suite so I sent them for a nap. I realised that they'd most likely play video games but I hoped that even if they didn't sleep the quiet time would recharge their batteries. Even though I'd never attended any kind of live show before my gut told me that cranky children were not exactly a desirable commodity back stage. When the door to their bedroom closed I slouched on to the sofa wondering if there was any way I could possibly get out of attending the show. I had a feeling that telling Matt that one of the boys was ill and that I needed to stay back at the hotel with him could possibly result in the cancellation of the entire thing. On the surface he seemed to be holding it all together but I knew it wouldn't take much to set him off.

My phone pinged on the sofa beside me, where I'd put it as I tried to summon the energy to call Steph for wardrobe advice. Picking it up I saw that it was Michelle.

Michelle – How's things in sunny Florida?

Me – Sunny

Michelle – Such a comedian. Are my nephews being good boys?