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( CHAPTER TEN: BREAK A LEG ) February, 1990
❝ go out there and we'll kill it together, alright? ❞
◯
Stress was cramping inside his chest, rattling his bones and beating against his ribcage. Devon knew there was some pressures when it came to live shows, but nothing on this scale could have ever prepared him for the day of the concert. By the time the sun lightened the sky, everyone was practicing for the show: doing mic checks, setting up staging and doing dress rehearsals. It was utterly chaotic, and Devon hated the overwhelming feelings of anxiety that swarmed inside his chest.
"Places everyone!" The demanding voice of Hilary — Janet's ever so kind manager — screamed, causing for everyone to quickly scramble across the stage. Sweat dribbled against Devon's brown skin, the black outfit that he wore draining every ounce of liquid from his body. He wasn't looking forward to performing in this for 2 hours. However, he pushed through, trying to preform each set with the same intensity. Janet looked the most stressed out of all of them. She scrambled around everywhere, sorting out complications and little bumps in order to make the show perfect.
Her pretty face was strained with tension, everything slowly but surely getting to her as they practiced it time and time again. He felt sorry for her, but maybe that's what it took to be as successful as she was. "That's a wrap on the last rehearsal, remember your cues!" Hilary shouted, her pin-straight nose pointing towards the ceiling. Devon felt like collapsing right then and there as the dancers gathered their stuff, his body feeling as though it was a sack of rotten potatoes.
"Dev," a deep, guttural voice alerted his attention. Devon's tired eyes drooped even more once he saw Jimmy solemnly walking towards him, just his mere presence sparking up unpleasant memories of the previous night. "I just wanted to check how you're doin' man, you kinda bolted last night," Jimmy said, jogging by Devon's side as he struggled to keep up with the twenty-one-year-old's long strides. Devon let out a low growl, not wanting to answer Jimmy's question, but knowing deep down that it wasn't his fault.
"I'm fine, I just went back to the hotel," Devon explained, swallowing his water as he didn't give details of Janet's visit. She just wanted his help with the routine and nothing else, it was no big deal. "Aight, I promise going to the clubs isn't always that bad," Jimmy mused, letting out a dry train of laughter. Devon managed to crack a small smile, his levitated mouth causing for his sharp dimples to cut through his cheeks. "It's cool man, it ain't your fault," Devon said, giving Jimmy a handshake to demonstrate his sincerity.
"I'll catch ya later, I need to practice before the show," Devon said, backpedaling towards the back entrance, his bicep already pushing open the door. The young male disappeared before Jimmy could respond, walking out in the Pensacola streets without another thought in his mind.
