No Chance by Lisa Suzanne
CHAPTER 25: HANNAH
Once we’re back at the hotel, Brett leads Chance and me toward Dustin and Amanda’s room.
Dustin shows me his camera, and it’s a much nicer and newer model than mine—but it works in pretty much the same way. “Why don’t you come to soundcheck and practice?” he suggests, and Brett thinks that’s a great idea.
“I’m happy to take care of Chance,” Amanda says.
“Isn’t it a lot for one person?” I ask.
She shrugs. “I’ve always loved working with kids. In fact, I used to work at a daycare. Some people make music,” she says, gesturing to Dustin, “and some people entertain children.”
“Are you sure?” I ask hesitantly.
“I’m sure.” She grins. “Don’t give it a second thought, really. Go have fun and take some killer pics. Danielle’s dropping Luna by any minute. We’ve got Sesame Street queued up on the television, we have a whole suitcase full of toys and books, and we are set with snacks and meals. I’ve got this.”
“Okay.” And then, because I feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude, I rush toward her and give her a hug. These people are doing everything they can to give me opportunities that didn’t even exist a few days ago. They’re banding together not just to make me feel welcome, but to open doors for me. Working as the official band photographer for a phenomenon as big as Capital Kingsmen has the potential to open a lot of doors for me in something that has only ever been a hobby to me.
But drumming was only just a hobby for Brett at one time. That’s kind of the dream...isn’t it? To be able to do what you love and work within your passions as your career.
A huge luxury SUV waits for us at a back entrance, and the four band members plus Karl, Danielle, and myself pile in. We’re ushered to the Pepsi Center where Capital Kingsmen is scheduled to play tonight. We’re taken through a maze of hallways and we end up at the band’s dressing room, where we have a few minutes to relax as the band goes over some last-minute details.
Then someone who works at the venue leads us toward the stage. Karl shows me the trench, and I find some stairs to get down in there.
I snap some photos. I’m not even sure how good my photos will be from down here. It’s almost too close to the stage, at least to get the three guys who are standing toward the front of the stage, but I’m able to snap some great shots of Brett in the back.
I move out to the floor and take a few more. I like the angle here much better. It’s wider and gives me more space to get multiple members of the band in, but there will be people out here tonight that will prevent me from standing right here.
And then, a few short hours later, it’s showtime.
I’m nervous as Karl leads me back down to the trench. It was different when it was just me down there. Now there’s security, and I’m wearing a lanyard with access cards attached to it, and there are screaming fans behind me who would give anything to take my place.
The band hasn’t taken the stage yet, and I’m getting the kind of angle the fans in the back of this pit are dreaming of. I’m closer to the stage than the most rabid fans, and a few days ago I was a loud and proud hater of this band.
Just like everything in my life...all that’s changing.
The houselights are still on, so the crowd waits anxiously for the band they came to see tonight to take the stage. I turn around to get a look at the audience, and then I stand on my tiptoes and reach my camera way up high to snap a photo of them. The place is filled. It’s a sea of faces in front of me and all around the sides of the arena, all the way up to the very top row.
It’s incredible.
A rush of fear lances through me. Brett assured me there was nothing to worry about, but it’s still terrifying to stand in that space between the crowd and the stage with only some barricades separating us. What if they push the barricades and crush me? What if they throw stuff and it hits me? There’s a lot of what-ifs here but as my sister used to say, ifs and buts just make you nuts.
“You okay here?” Karl asks, and he says the words quickly like he needs to drop me off so he can move onto his next task.
I nod even though it’s not the whole truth, and he saunters off. I focus on the drums for a few beats as I draw in a calming breath. I think about Komodo dragons and panda bears and his hand sliding into mine. My stomach clenches as I remember that moment, and a little sigh escapes me.
I’m starting to like him. Not just that outer package of abs and hotness, but what’s on the inside. I get the sense that he’s stepping out of his comfort zone in order to do what he thinks is right, and he’s slowly opening up to me.
I’m sure he only sees me as a friend, or something beneath that title even, but I can’t help that just the sight of his drums calms me. I can’t help that my heart squeezes every time I think about how he just dropped everything to take us to the zoo today. I can’t help that an ache presses between my legs when I think about his wide eyes as he watched me in the tub, and I can’t help the little ripples in my tummy when I think about his fingers sliding through mine.
The house lights fade to black, a telltale sign that the band is taking the stage any moment. Screams erupt from the crowd as the anticipation builds, and I feel the excitement in my chest. As silly as it sounds, I feel the anticipation of seeing Brett again. We live together in a three hundred square foot space. We share hotel rooms and beds except when he’s sleeping on the couch. We’re as physically close as two people can be for the majority of our days, and yet I’m still excited to see him up there in his element.
Have I...missed him since we parted not so long ago? We’ve been together for much of the day today, and yet I find myself waiting for the first burst of light so my eyes can refocus on his face.
And when it happens, it’s pure magic.
He slams his sticks against his drums to open the first song, and I feel the bass in my chest. Once he hits his rhythm about five seconds into the song, his eyes seem to seek something out as they fall down to the front of the stage.
His meet mine, and a little smile curls his lips. It’s then that I remember I’m supposed to be capturing this moment on the camera.
In a split second, I bring the viewfinder up to my eye and focus on Brett. I zoom in, and I catch that little curl of his lip as I click the shutter. I don’t bother to check my work now. There will be time later to go over the details of every photo, and I already know that one will be saved to my very own personal collection.
Because as much as I never would have believed it, that sexy little smile gracing his lips was for me.
