Chapter Three: His Hard Rockin' Princess

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Chapter 3

Elle bounced all the way to the gate that led them backstage. This was so cool! She also couldn’t help but laugh at her brother, as he might have been more excited. Mandy joked earlier she’d have to keep a firm grip on his arm to keep him from floating away, but now it looked as if she did have him tight. Elle clutched the laminated pass on her lanyard as they approached the security guards. She remembered all the times through high school, and even some in college, when people talked about trying to sneak backstage, saying confidence was key. She didn’t need to worry about confidence tonight, as these passes were genuine. Rich, with some help from Dad, secured them at work, Sullivan Advertising. Dad owned it, while Rich was his second-in-command and someday successor. They tried to get her into the family business, too, but she had no interest. Maybe after college if she still didn’t know what she wanted to be when she grew up, but not yet.

The security team waved them through, and she and Rich grinned at each other so big she thought her face might crack. Bring on the rock stars! She had autographs to get. Along with the CD cover for Crushed Edges’ latest album, their best yet, she also carried a small notebook for anyone else famous. Maybe even some of the bands from earlier would be back here. She hadn’t known most of them, but enjoyed so many of the sounds. Rich would point out anyone of interest to get signatures. No doubt she’d end up having to share the notebook with him, but she didn’t mind. Mandy, for her part, got drafted into picture duty with her phone.

The first band, Coiled Recognition, would start in about fifteen minutes, so commotion surrounded the stage as the roadies moved everything into position and made sure the instruments sounded right. Despite not being media, their passes allowed them in the standing section to the left of the stage. Rich didn’t see anyone he recognized, so they checked out their vantage point. She couldn’t wait to watch from here. Sure, it would be a better pure view from the front row of the amphitheater, but this was so much cooler. None of her friends could say they’d seen a big concert like this.

While they stood waiting, a guy in his mid-20s or so, with a faux-hawk haircut and wearing a buttoned-up striped shirt and skinny jeans, stepped up next to her. He gave her an appraising look that made her want to punch him in the teeth, and said, “Crushed Edges fan, eh?”

She gave him a sappy sweet smile. “No, my brother let me borrow the shirt for this weekend. He said it would make me stand out less than my Katy Perry one.”

He smirked. “It’s nice you can be here anyway. I’m sure your brother will enjoy the show.”

“Yeah, he will. Not me, though. I won’t know to cheer when the opening riff of ‘Big Chugger’ starts, meaning the boys are about to take the stage. I also won’t get the significance of ‘Jagged Lines’ because I have no idea Boyd Henderson’s older brother died from cutting himself too deep with a razor blade. I also won’t know to get excited when Jason starts the opening riff of ‘Not a Party Machine.’ It’s too bad because it all sounds like a kick-ass set.” She threw a smirk of her own at the guy, who looked bemused and backed away, telling her to enjoy the show.

Mandy snorted and gave her a nudge. “You could have told him you were a fan instead of making him feel so small. Not that I didn’t enjoy watching it.”

She waited for Rich to call her bratty with a side of bitch, his favorite phrase when she did something like that, but instead he said, “Oh, shit.”

What? Had the guy gone to get someone to kick her out? Was he a true VIP who didn’t like to feel belittled? She didn’t care about making him feel stupid, as she hated the way he blatantly checked her out. It would be plenty petty of him to do so, but she’d met enough famous people through Dad’s company who thought too much of themselves to not be surprised. Instead, she found Rich staring in awe at…

…him. Her mystery older guy, the one who made her feel tingly both this morning and afternoon. And he did it again now, even if he wasn’t looking at her. Oh, god, what was it about him? She realized she couldn’t breathe.

“What?” Mandy asked. Elle thought she said it to her for a second, but instead she directed the query at Rich.

“That’s Moth Man. Moth Man Wade, the original lead guitarist for Splitting Braincells. Holy hell, I worshiped him back in high school.”

“Go introduce yourself,” she said, nudging him. “Elle can get his autograph, and I’ll snap a picture. This is why we’re backstage, remember?”

“I can’t. He’s Moth Man. I don’t think I’ll be able to say anything.”

Mandy’s voice held exasperation, but Elle heard the humor in it, too. “You’ve met plenty of celebrities at work. He’s no different. Go say hi, tell him you’re a fan, and I’ll get a picture. Elle, drag your brother over there and get an autograph.”

She didn’t answer. She’d followed the conversation, but her eyes had never left the guy, this Moth Man. What kind of name was that? A nickname, but why? She wanted to walk over and ask him, but her feet wouldn’t move. When was she ever like this?

“Elle?” Mandy prompted, followed by, “Oh my god!”

That snapped her out of it. “What?” She didn’t like the smirk on Mandy’s face.

“Are you star-struck like your brother, or crushing? He’s pretty hot, but maybe a little too old for you.”

“No! Oh my god. I was…” How could she finish that sentence? She also knew she had a nuclear-level blush going. Don’t look, don’t look, don’t look, she willed towards him, which, of course, brought the opposite effect. His eyes wandered over to them before stopping on her. Her heart, thanks to Mandy’s teasing, had managed to work its way into her chest from her throat, but now it shot back up. Oh, his eyes…

“Look, he sees us,” Mandy said. “Now it’ll be more rude if you don’t go over and talk to him.” Elle’s gaze didn’t leave Moth Man’s, but she heard the near-laughter in Mandy’s voice. “Come on, you two.”

And just like that, they headed towards him. In any other situation, she would have been giddy at how much fun she could have picking on Rich for being star-struck. He never batted an eye when they met a celebrity. They didn't affect her, either, but that changed big-time tonight. Only Mandy held it together as she pushed and prodded them to meet this beautiful, beautiful Moth Man.

He watched them approach, his eyes not leaving hers, but growing bigger and bigger as they drew closer. Was she doing the same? She both hoped not and didn’t care. She was going to meet him; oh, god, she was going to meet him. Could she say hi? Would her voice even work?

“Moth Man,” Mandy said, a bright smile in her voice. “Hope you don’t mind, but you have two huge fans here who would love to meet you.”

Mandy stretched out her hand to shake his, which broke the spell between him and Elle. She blinked hard a few times and let out a gasp she hoped wasn’t too loud. He then shook Rich’s hand, and her brother managed to find his voice.

“Hi, Moth Man, uh, Mr. Wade. I know I’m going to make a fool of myself, but I was such a fan back when you were in Splitting Braincells. I had a fake ID in high school so I could get into the 18-and-over-clubs. You were the best I’ve ever seen.”

Moth Man laughed and clapped Rich on the shoulder. “Thanks, I appreciate it. But, please, call me Moth Man or Tim, not Mr. Wade. And feel free to insert a corny, overused joke here about how Mr. Wade is my father.”

Rich and Mandy laughed, and while somewhere in the back of Elle’s mind she found the joke funny, she couldn’t help but blurt out, “Wait, how come you keep saying ‘were’? Why aren’t you still their guitarist? They’re playing tonight.”

She gasped as soon as it left her mouth. Crap, why couldn’t she have a filter? True, she usually didn’t care if she came off as rude, but she did with him. Moth Man. Tim.

He turned towards her, his eyes intense, but the corners of his mouth raised in a smile. It melted her insides, but she managed, through some sort of autopilot, to lift her hand to shake his when offered. When their skin touched, she jumped as if shocked. Plus, her insides poured down in a lumpy puddle at the soles of her feet, and her girlie parts burned in absolute fire. Oh, god, shut up, shut up, shut up!

“I’m Tim,” he whispered, his voice hoarse, husky. Oh, wow, am I affecting him, too? She liked that idea.

“Elle,” she somehow managed to whisper back.

She might have stayed there the rest of the night, holding both his gaze and his hand, but real life had to, of course, rear it’s ugly head in the form of Mandy’s annoying—at least at the moment—snicker. Tim’s smile grew in a knowing way, and then he dropped her hand and turned his attention back to Rich and Mandy. He and Rich discussed music, and though she wanted to listen in, to gain some insight to this wonderful specimen of a man, she couldn’t get her head on straight. She gave a quick glance over to Mandy and winced. Shit! As always, her sister-in-law saw straight through her. Though at the moment the entire back stage area could probably tell what dominated her mind. If she were a boy, everyone would say she was thinking with her other head. Shit-shit-shit! Maybe she could excuse herself to the bathroom and stay there for the rest of the show. She could always peek out when Crushed Edges came on stage.

Don’t be dumb, she scolded herself. You’re an adult. Sort of. Act like it!

She took a deep breath, plastered a smile on her face, ignored Mandy’s penetrating gaze, and did everything in her power to follow the conversation between Tim and Rich. They talked about the bands from earlier in the day. Had she missed the important details, her question about why he wasn’t a guitarist anymore? If so, she could ask Rich later. He’d know all the sordid details. She managed to hold her tongue until a natural pause in the conversation followed, and then blurted out, in her typical inarticulate (stupid!) manner, “Why do they call you Moth Man? It seems a little silly.”

“Elle,” Rich muttered in his defeated, scornful voice he so often used with her.

Yes, big brother, I accept your scorn this time.

Tim turned to her, a smile on his face, and his eyes again devouring her. God, he really could devour her for all she cared. For all she wanted. Feast on, big boy! Come and get it.

Holy hell, she never even felt like this with Harris Tynes, her boyfriend throughout her entire junior and senior years of high school. She liked him enough to let him take her virginity in the summer between the two, and they continued sexing each other up whenever they could almost until the end, but her feelings for him never came close to what she felt for this stranger.

“It was meant to be silly. Meant to make me feel stupid, but I owned it, and it became mine. Back in junior high, some brainiac bully discovered the word ‘moth’ sat in the middle of Timothy, so that’s what he called me. It ticked me off royal at first, but my best friend started saying Moth Man in a cool way, not condescending, and I loved it. I became Moth Man for the rest of junior high and all through high school. It continued with Splitting Braincells until…” He stopped and held up his left hand.

What did he mean? Her face must have been full of confusion, because he continued. “Not long after I turned 21, as soon as we hit the big time, I got into a motorcycle accident. Crushed my fretting hand so bad that I’d never be a touring musician again. I can play for five or ten minutes now, but any more and it starts to ache.”

She gasped and without thinking grasped his hand and stroked it, as if she could cure all that ailed him. He moaned, and it zipped through her, straight to her girlie parts. God, how could she want this man so bad, so soon? She knew nothing about him, not to mention he was at least a decade her senior.

At that moment the first band of the night hit the stage. The lights dimmed around them and the fanfare started, and the mammoth crowd on the other side of the stage roared. That’s when she found Rich and Mandy had left her alone with him. They headed towards the media viewing area.

He leaned in close and said, “I’d love to keep talking to you. Do you want to go watch the band, and then continue our conversation between sets?” He swiped his fingers of his left hand across her cheek, and it was her turn to moan. He smiled, and it looked like he might lean down and kiss her. Yes! Do it! Instead, he stopped short, looked to be going through his own internal monologue—she could sure relate to that!—and shook his head as if clearing it. He then smiled, stepped towards the viewing area, and offered his arm. She grinned and took it.

Read Ch. 4 by clicking here