“So, like, is the show really canceled?” A passing teenager idly asked Gloria, who was standing on a stepladder, busily tapping liquidation sale signs to the exterior of Black Rocket Records.

Gloria exhaled with annoyed frustration, then resumed her work. “Yup.”

All merch, all records, F-ing everything is half off, read the signs she was hanging. Beneath that read, Tonight’s show is canceled.

“Oh…” The kid wandered off, not looking where he was going.

I grabbed the surprised boy by the shoulders to stop him from walking directly into me, then turned him and let him go. Without a word of protest the hopelessly aloof teen ambled away.

I stood behind her for a moment, watching her. It was hotter than any late morning should be allowed to be. Gloria wore a gray tank top, a black baseball cap, sunglasses and a skirt. Her shiny metal studs caught the light and accentuated her fair jaw line and milky features.

I was instantly reminded how much I was attracted to her.

“Your signs have a typo,” I said. “It says tonight’s show is canceled.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake…” Gloria muttered, letting her forehead rest against the window. “You see the news, pal?” Finally she turned to face the source of her newest pain-in-the-ass. Seeing that it was me, her eyes flared excitedly for the briefest of moments, then immediately narrowed.

“What do you want, Richard?”

“I came to watch the show.”

“The Deconstructed are in the hospital. How have you not heard the news?” Gloria turned out her palms dejectedly, then let her arms fall to her side.

It pained me to see the hurt in her face. Behind her tough girl act, I could tell that she was crushed. Her business meant the world to her, and now because some idiot musicians overdid it on drugs, she had to suffer for it.

“I didn’t come for that show.” I waved to the stretch limo parked across the street.

My brother exited the vehicle, followed by four other men in dark shades who kept their heads down like those always on guard for paparazzi. I could only imagine the groveling, threats and favors that were called in for Lucas to make this work, but somehow he did it.

Lucas did what every rock magazine in the country thought was impossible.

There was a stunned look on Gloria’s face as each of the men said hi to her when they got close enough. Gloria took off her glasses as if the dark layer of plastic was lying to her.

“Hey, guys, this is Gloria Grant, owner of Black Rocket Records,” Lucas said. He then turned to Gloria, a smirk splitting his face. “Gloria, this is John, Oscar, Isaac and Robbie—”

“Gunmetal Tears…” Gloria blurted, then realized that was probably rude. She shook each band embers hand in turn. “Shit. Hi. Sorry. It’s nice to meet you! What are you doing here?”

“We’re no Deconstructed,” Lucas shrugged, then winked. “But I’m pretty sure we can still draw a crowd. We’d like to play that empty stage tonight, if you don’t mind.”

“Are you fucking kidding me? Yeah, of course!” Gloria pointed inside with shaking hands. “Make yourselves at home, there’s an office in the back you can hang out in if you want some privacy.”

Lucas thanked her, then led his band mates inside.

“How…” Gloria looked at me, her rain clouds eyes sparkling. On the step ladder she was nearly as tall as I was. She wasn’t starstruck. It’s what the band symbolized that made her hands shake. They were the last minute out-of-nowhere life saving that might keep her business afloat.

I smiled and said nothing. My words were stripped away by the beauty. If I could only see one thing for the rest of my life I’d want it to be her face in this moment. I had never seen her so happy and relieved.

It made me want to devote myself to making her wear that look for the rest of her life.

“I thought they hated each other,” Gloria sniffed away her surging emotions. “After the thing in Berlin…”

“No, turns out they only hated Lucas. I don’t think they’re getting back together or anything, but they’re at least taking a night off from being angry at my brother.”

“Oh my God,” Gloria carefully wiped the tears that threatened to ruin her black mascara. A renewed look of worry marred her perfect features. “The show... I canceled all the advertising. How the fuck are people going to know? Fuck!”

I placed a foot on her stepladder to keep from toppling over as she suddenly jerked her phone from the waistband of her skirt. I quickly grabbed her hand, steadying it.

“Breathe,” I said. “I’ve taken care of everything. You just say the word and every news outlet; blogger and radio show in the area—if not the country—will hear about Gunmetal Tears one night only reunion show at Black Rocket Records.”

“Why?” Gloria asked with hard, upturned eyes; this was all so tough for her to believe. I could see her difficult upbringing in those wounded eyes. It made my soul ache. “You don’t even know me. Why do any of this?”

A million replies flooded into my head, but the only thing I could say was the most honest. “I don’t know… Because you’re worth it. And because I was a fool to ever give you up in the first place.”

Gloria crushed me in a hug I thought and hoped would last forever. She whispered, “Thank you,” and began to cry.

“I’m sorry I’m not better at this. I’ve—” I hesitated. I felt stupid and vulnerable. I was always prepared, I mastered everything I set my mind to, but when it came to Gloria I felt like a fumbling teenager; awkward and drunk off emotion. Then forced myself to continue, I needed to say it as much for myself as for her. “I’ve never been in love before now.”

“Stop making me cry, you jerk!” Gloria’s chest heaved with laughter and sobs.

We stayed embraced like that until we became brave enough to finally look at each. I’d never been so overwhelmed by emotion. I could feel that my eyes and nose were red. The remnants of smudged black rivers ran down her pearly cheeks. We were an utter mess, but at least it was honest.

On the sidewalk, late morning on a Friday, Gloria and I laid our souls bare to one another.

The band was inspecting the stage and fooling around when we came inside. A few customers hovered nearby wondering if they were who they thought they were.

“Not bad, big brother.” Lucas took one look at both of us and smiled from ear to ear. “Crazy, stupid love looks good on you.” Then he turned to Gloria, “Once you pull the stick out of his ass, he’s actually a pretty decent guy.”

“Yeah, I’m beginning to see that.” Gloria smiled at me in all her punk rock glory. “Where’s Molly? I feel like she had a hand in all this somehow.”

“You’re probably right. My girl is crafty like that…” Lucas’s eyes narrowed in feigned suspicion for a moment. “She’ll be swinging by when school closes so you’ll get to ask her yourself later.”

One of his band mates called Lucas over to the stage. Before he left, Lucas shot me another look and a nod; the gesture said good job, man.

“What happened to ruthless Barbie?” Gloria asked when we were relatively alone.

“Who cares,” I said, frankly. It didn’t matter what happened to her, I got the only girl I wanted. I then put my arm around Gloria, leading her to the office. “C’mon, we’ve got a concert to promote.”