Chapter Thirty-Five
"Just because she didn't recognize you doesn't mean shit," Nick said defensively.
"Yeah, I didn't recognize the similarity in your eyes at first either," Brian agreed. "How long did we work together before I noticed?"
"Maybe she just didn't say anything," AJ suggested, "I mean it is kind of an awkward thing to point out. Hey you look like my dead kid in the eyes a little?"
Howie sighed, "Maybe we should just ask her. Explain to her the situation, what we think and everything."
"What if it upsets her?" Brian argued.
Ann had just gone to sit with Leighanne and Baylee to see the soundcheck. The fans were bustling, we could hear them on the other side of the curtain we were standing behind. I felt like I was on overload. Too much was happening, I couldn't keep up with it. My head was about ready to explode.
Nick put a hand on my shoulder, "Don't give up, okay?" he begged.
"Yeah no problem," I answered. But honestly, I felt a little empty. I mean if she hadn't recognized me, how could I be her son? Not recognizing your cousin right off or your bandmate, that's totally different than son. Of course, I wouldn't recognize Mason if I fell over him so maybe it's the same thing. Well no because I have amnesia. She doesn't. And maybe Mason wasn't my son, maybe if he was I would recognize him. Maybe she really just didn't say anything, like AJ said, or maybe - maybe she'd said all there was to say.
Brian patted my back on his way by as the Boys went out onto the stage for soundcheck. I slid off the stage and sat down in the empty folding chair next to Marty, who grinned and shook my knee to greet me once I'd sat down. She stared up at the Boys with rapt attention, her jaw slightly dropped, as they got their mics going and started goofing off and chattering. They sang a couple songs acappella, and I have to admit that it was a really different experience hearing them sing that way from the floor in front of them, rather than as background noise as I worked. They were much more impressive from this angle, and it was easy to see how people got so invested in their 'fandom' once I experienced it from their angle.
The hour for soundcheck seemed to fly by, and once Marty ha gotten her photo with the Boys, we hovered off to the side until they'd met everyone and the fans had all been shuffled back out of the arena. Once they'd left, Brian jumped the barricade that kept the fans from getting too crazy, and came over to me and Marty. "Hello again," he greeted Marty. "You enjoy the soundcheck?" he asked.
"Definitely," Marty nodded. "Your voices are amazing."
"Oh gorrrsh," Brian drawled in a Goofy voice.
Marty laughed, "Like you Boys don't know you sound beautiful," she waved a hand at Brian.
"Are you excited for the show tonight?" Brian asked, "And to see this one here in action?" he added, fake-punching my arm.
"This one?" she looked at me. "What?" she turned back to Brian.
"Ben here has a part in our show tonight. What? You didn't tell her?" Brian asked, looking at me, a hint of disbelief in his voice.
My cheeks turned red. "No, I didn't tell anyone."
"Well, just you wait," Brian said, nodding solemnly, "It's a big surprise, but you're gonna be amazed." He grinned.
"I can't wait," Marty replied.
In all the hub-bub with bringing Marty backstage and the preparation for the show and the soundcheck and everything, I was fairly distracted until after dinner and didn't get a chance to attempt calling Kim until I'd already gotten Marty seated in the crowd, greeted Mr. Wilder and his wife and got them seated with Marty. I dialed the number for Kim's cellphone like five times, and each time the phone just rang and rang and rang and rang...
I sighed heavily. Nick sat down next to me. "What's up buttercup?" he asked.
"I'm just frustrated," I replied, closing the phone. I stared at it in my hand, willing her to call me back.
He looked at the phone. "I'm sorry," he said. "That you're frustrated."
"It's okay."
Nick hesitated. "You know why I believe you're Kevin?"
"Why?" I asked.
He smiled, "Because Kevin had the best way of making people feel good around him. He didn't have to do much, he just had to be there and it made you feel better." With a shrug, Nick added, "I dunno, you kinda do that. I feel good around you. You know?"
"Even though I get irritated at you sometimes?" I laughed.
Nick smirked, "It's fun pissing you off. Another reason why I think you're Kevin."
"So you have a list," I said, laughing.
Nick shook his head, "Just those two reasons is all." He paused. "You really think dead people can hear stuff?" he asked.
"Yeah, I do," I replied.
"So even if you ain't him, I told him sorry, right?"
"Right." Nick scurried off without saying anything else.
I opened the phone and tried dialing Kim's number again. Nothing. I left a voicemail. "Kim, it's me... I miss you. I just wish you'd answer. I'm in town, we're doing the show here tonight, and I'm kind of playing a piece on the piano tonight, like on stage in front of all these people. I just wish you were here. I left your ticket at will-call. If you get this in the next like hour or so, please come over. It would mean a lot to me to look in the crowd and see you there. I love you." I hung up.
The stage lights were flashing, the opening act was on stage about to wrap up. Everyone backstage was pulled together into the huddle to do the preshow prayer. Everyone's arms were interlocked, and Brian was leading. "Lord thank you for this tour, thank you for everything you've done for all of us, for the fans, for the venue and the capable stagehands who change it from an empty arena to a fantastic stage show. Thank you for my bandmate brothers and for all the friends we've made this tour. We ask you to watch over us tonight and give us strength to put on the best possible show we can. All this is Jesus' name..."
"Amen," everyone chorused.
We all put our hands together in the center. "One! Two! Three!" Nick shouted.
"Backstreet!" We all yelled, parting, hands flying like shrapnel from the center point.
Energy filled the backstage area. Nick bounded around, his hair gelled and sprayed so much that the spikes didn't even move as he frolicked. Howie downed a cup of honey-chamomile tea like it was a shot. AJ changed his vest like four times. Brian paced. Finally it was time, and the Boys left me to the side of the stage, like usual, and went out to perform the first half of their act.
"ATLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANTAAAAAAAAAAAA!" Nick shouted as he ran onto the stage, and the crowd went absolutely nuts.
I could see Marty and Mr. Wilder and his wife in the third row, with Kim's empty chair beside them. I sat down beside Jenn and rubbed my forehead with the heels of my hands. Jenn smiled, "It's gonna be okay," she offered.
"I feel sick," I replied.
"It's called nerves," Jenn answered.
As the Boys danced and sang, I leaned back and tried not to focus on the fans and the magnitude of their screaming. I didn't want to imagine myself in front of them. My palms were sweating just thinking about it. I imagined myself messing up, hitting the wrong keys, a bunch of mindless noise escaping from the piano. It was going to be a disaster, I thought. They were going to hate it. I pictured a tomato hitting me in the side of the face as I played.
When the Boys came backstage, I grabbed Howie by the shoulders. "I can't do this," I muttered.
He laughed, "You can do this."
Brian was on his way back out, a spotlight on him and the piano was rising up from the floor on a lift, like we'd practiced. "We have a special treat for ya'll tonight..." he was saying.
"No seriously, I can't do this, I'm gonna hyperventilate, or something," I replied.
Howie shook his head, "Just pick one person out there, look them in the eyes, and pretend you're only playing for one. It'll help. I promise."
I nodded. "Okay."
"Deep breaths," I heard AJ say from behind me.
"You done this a ton of times before," Nick reminded me, "You just don't know it."
My nerves shook inside me.
"...amazing piece on the piano, composed himself..." Brian was saying out on the stage. Girls were clapping and screaming. Marty was looking at the piano, her jaw dropped, her eyes wide. "Please put your hands together for Ben Spencer." Brian waved his hand toward the curtain where I was standing.
My knees locked, I forgot how to step forward, how to walk out there. Nick shoved me from behind, "Goooo," he urged me.
I stumbled out onto the stage, regained balance, and walked as calmly as my shivering nerves would allow. My eyes scanned the arena. There wre people everywhere. I felt ready t to throw up. They were all looking at me, like I was anything to look at... I was ready to turn back, to dive back into the safety of the sidelines and shadows, when Howie's words echoed in my head and my eyes quickly darted to Kim's still empty seat. Mr. Wilder was clapping like crazy. But my eyes locked with Marty's.
There were tears in her eyes.
I sat down at the piano and Brian ran off stage and the light softened to a gold shade and I lifted the key cover took a deep breath, I poised my fingers... and brought them down onto the keys...
And it was like lightening struck with the first chord.
After Self by Pengi
