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What the hell?” I whisper, re-reading the damn thing three times to make sure I got it right. Get onstage? With at least two dozen security guards who look like they’d love an excuse to break somebody in half for getting too close to one of the world’s biggest pop stars? They have to be kidding. Or completely out-of-touch.

A thought crosses my mind. How the fuck did they know that I even knew the words of this particular track? I’m not a fan of Bruno Mars. I only know this song because I was best man at my buddy’s wedding and had to sing the chorus with him to his bride on his big day.

The only way they would know is if they’d been stalking all my friend’s social media too. Fucking bastards. I never gave them permission to look into my friend’s lives. That’s an invasion of privacy. Fuck them and their cold ruthlessness. I hold back the anger for the moment. None of that is important. Only completing this dare is. I’m gonna do it and take great pride in taking their money. I look around me.

Think, Trent. Think.

The rest of the audience falls away and it’s just me, sitting there, sizing up my options. I can’t jump on the stage because of the line of security guards standing with their backs to it, arms folded over barrel chests. That’s out. I wouldn’t have the first clue about how to get behind the stage, so that’s out, too. I scan the setup, looking for anything that’ll help me.

The lighting rig?

There’s a cage of metal poles set up on both sides of the stage, which is how I assume the crew climbs up and down to adjust the lights prior to the show. It looks sturdy. Yes, it would have to be, to support everything safely. If I can make my way over to it, I’ll be in good shape.

Part of me cannot believe I’m actually considering this. The store, the restaurants, even jumping out of a helicopter were nothing compared to this. The arena is full to capacity, with every visible seat taken. And I’m supposed to get up in front of them and make a complete fool of myself?

Dakota is oblivious to my tension. Her excitement of over being here has made her momentarily forget why we are really here. “You okay?” she calls out, still smiling.

I stand. “Yeah. I’ll be right back.”

She frowns. “Hey, where are you going?”

“I need to go to the toilet.”

She gives me the thumbs up signal.

I smile back.

My heart is in my throat as I work my way down the row. When I get to the end, a man presses a small velvet box into my hand. “You’ll need this buddy.”

I take it and step into the aisle. It is empty except for a few stragglers who are making their way to their seats. I pretend I’m one of them, slowly inching my way up to the seats on the right-hand side of the main floor area. There aren’t usually risers there during basketball or hockey games, but the organizers must put them in to add more seats for concerts. I blend in with them until we reach the stairs, then vault over one of the metal partitions separating the fans from the stage and crew.

Holy shit, I can’t believe I’m doing this.

Before I can talk myself out of this crazy dare, I make a dash for one of the lighting rigs and start climbing it. One million dollars. One million dollars. My dream. Everything I’ve worked so hard for. It’s all come down to this and I just have to make it happen. I’m hanging thirty feet about the ground. Shit. I shouldn’t have looked down. Cold sweat breaks out on my skin. It’s a long way to the ground.

Come on. You can do this, Trent.

All I have to do is keep steadily crawling along. My foot slips, and my whole body jerks and tips dangerously, but I manage to told on tight, straighten myself and keep going. I picture myself receiving the million-dollar check, smiling, happy. Eric clapping me on the back. I picture myself telling Sukie to take her money and stick it where the sun don’t shine. Until my feet touch the flat ground.

Holy shit, I’m actually onstage, even if nobody can see me.

Except one of the security guards, who shouts something into his headset as he charges towards me. I can’t wait around to see what he wants, so I run out in full view of the entire audience. It takes seconds for them to understand this isn’t planned. Except for the guy in the cable knit sweater and cords, he isn’t part of Eva’s backup dance squad.

The entire audience is staring at me. My mind goes blank. What did they want me to sing? Damn, damn, suddenly I can’t remember any of the words. I have to make this happen. The money, Trent. The money. The cheesy words come back to me. Sure, I can do it. I can do anything.

I point to Dakota.

Her jaw is hanging open in shock. “Trent!” she shouts, pointing back. Half-laughing, half-horrified for me. She knows exactly what I’m up to.

I’ve never been much of a singer, but…

“It’s a beautiful night!” I call out, looking around. Guards are closing in. “We’re looking for something fun to do!”

“What’s happening?” Eva asks, stopping and staring at me. The music goes quiet. It’s just me now, running from the guards as they approach from all sides while I’m trying to sing.

“Hey, baby!” I duck when one of them tries to net me and he sprawls to the floor. I scramble away, only to almost back into another. He gives me chase, his face red and threatening, but I dance away, nimble as a cat. He’s a big guy, but he’s all beef and no muscle. “I think I wanna marry you,” I continue singing.

“Wait a second, guys. Wait, wait.” Eva holds up her hands and shoos the gorillas away. “What are you trying to accomplish here, dude?” Her smile is wide and false.

I breathe a smile of relief. You can always trust a star who smiles like that. She’s seen a way to make this work for her.

She turns to the audience. “This guy’s got some serious balls, getting up here like this. I have to hand it to him. What da ya think, people? Shall we let him sing his proposal?”

The crowd goes wild. She laughs and claps, one hand holding her microphone, as applause rings out through the arena.

I can’t believe this is happening.

Dakota laughs until tears roll down her cheeks.

“So, tell me,” she says, turning back to me, “who are you singing to?”

“Her.” I point to Dakota, who’s no longer laughing and is now sinking further and further down in her seat. “I was singing to her.”

Whoops, cheers and whistles fill the space as a spotlight hits Dakota and her face fills the screens throughout the place. She covers it with both hands, which only makes everybody go wilder.

“Your lady love?” Eva asks with a wink.

“Yes. She is.”

More cheering, more whistling.

“Why don’t you come on up, sweetheart?” Eva motions for the guards to escort Dakota onstage.

Well, this is a turn I didn’t see coming.