I never watch the opening band. I know I should, out of respect, but I can’t. The moments before the show are mine, I go to that other place I need to be to be able to perform in front of a sold-out arena of screaming fans.

I hate the trend of music these days, it’s too casual. It’s fashionable to walk on stage eating an apple, dressed like it’s laundry day. I’m not like them. I take it very seriously. When I told Lael to show the crowd no respect, I hope she knew what I meant. I have immense respect for the audience, but I do not fear them. What I was talking about is that bad energy in the room that can happen sometimes. You shouldn’t respect that.

I never concern myself whether I look humble and modest, I don’t overthink. When I step on to the stage I demand respect. People want to be led, when the energy in the room turns into a confused sea, don’t jump into the water. Show up with a pirate ship and make them beg to come aboard.

There’s still plenty of time before the show, but I feel it’s one of those damn nights. I can feel it from my dressing room, the rumbles from the opening band, and the reaction of the crowd rumbles through the walls and into the room where I sit, alone. I need to be alone today, busy building a pirate ship in my mind.

Calvi and Switch always watch the opening bands. I think they do it not because they are down to earth good guys, but more because they want to be seen that way. I’m happy they take that role, it takes the pressure off me. Lael usually finds a quiet place to play her bass, and dolls herself up. She has been scarce today. I know Ronald showed up unexpectedly and I haven’t seen her since. I wouldn’t usually think anything of it but emotions are running high for various reasons.

I’ve had some time to processes the fact that Lael and I are going to have a child. I think I’ve felt every emotion on the spectrum of emotions. I’ve been full of life since she told me the news; it’s given me perspective. I wonder if in some deep way I wanted Lael to get pregnant. I’ve always been so careful in the past, all these years and I’ve never slipped one past the goalie.

When she told me the news, I felt fear, but there was a deep immediate acceptance. I can’t imagine what I would have felt if someone from my past told me the same news. I probably would have felt an instant dread when I consider being tied to some woman for the rest of my life.

But with Lael, that couldn’t be further from the truth. When Lael told me, I almost felt…relieved. She’s a ray of sunshine; I am creating life with the sun.

I’m lucid and letting my mind wander. I let it go anywhere it wants as long as it doesn’t go into the confused sea just outside these walls.

Time passes and the opening act is done. The walls are no longer rumbling; the volume of the crowd turns down and sounds like a busy night-time freeway.

Lael walks in, she doesn’t say a word and doesn’t look at me. I’ve noticed she has an impeccable tuning fork. I’ve never spoken to her about my pre-show rituals, she’s just picked up on things and finds a space for herself to fill. She has that ability musically, too.

Lael also lets herself go to another place before the show like I do. I like how she takes it so seriously. So when she says my name, I am surprised she’s talking at all.

“Brad,” Lael says.

I take a moment, turn my head to her. She’s sitting on the couch, slumped over in defeat. She looks nothing like she usually does before show time. Something is terribly wrong.

“This can’t be good,” I say.

“It’s not,” she says.

I get off the chair in front of the vanity mirror where I sit and join her on the couch.

“Lay it on me,” I tell her.

Arnie pokes his head in. “Five minutes,” he says quickly, then disappears.

“Sorry, I don’t want talk before the show, but I thought you might want to know,” Lael says pushing her hair back behind her ears.

“Lael. It’s okay, I know it’s scary stuff, but everything is going to be fine,” I assure her.

I’m not bothered by her preshow chat in the least. The pirate ship in my mind is built, it is fierce, and I am ready. I’m ready for whatever she has to say to me, and I’m ready to have an amazing show.

But Lael is struggling to find the words.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

“I’m sorry but I can’t finish the tour with you. I’m so sorry, but I’m afraid this will be my last show.”

I hear her words but they’re not sinking in. I have a good tuning fork too, and it’s vibrating out of control.

“What? Why? There are only a couple show left. Are you okay?” I ask. “Is…is the baby?”

“I’m fine,” she says, not meeting my eyes. “The baby too.”

“Are we okay?” I ask with concern.

“Yes, baby, yes, we are better than okay.” She finally meets my eyes. “It’s a girl thing. It’s a pregnant thing. I need to be at home right now. I should be seeing a doctor, I need to shift gears a little.” She holds my hand as she speaks emotionally.

When I consider that I have no idea about pregnancy, I begin to feel selfish. I haven’t considered maybe she should be under the care of a doctor, maybe she should be in the hospital right now. Is she in pain? I’m overwhelmed by the sudden awareness of my own ignorance.

“Are you in pain? You don’t have to play tonight; I don’t care about that. I care about you. I will take you home right now.” I’m speaking nervously and quickly, concerned I have put her in danger.

Lael’s body language tells me to turn down my intensity. I realize I’m on my knees in front of her and holding her hands like she’s dying soldier.

I get myself together and sit beside her again.

“Relax, I’m fine. The baby is fine. We are fine. I just need to do this, and I need you to be understanding,” she says this with so much conviction.

I feel guilty that she’s now the one calming me down.

Outside, the volume of the crowd spikes up, I imagine the house lights went down. Our five minutes are up. This has been the best tour of my life. I know there will be other tours but this one is special.

And the reason it’s so special is leaving.

I take a moment to let this reality sink in.

The crowd starts chanting. They sound like an angry mob but at least they are unified, that makes my job easier.

And Then… And Then… And Then…

“I want you to sing the first song,” I say to her.

“Fuzzface? Why?” she asks, seeming embarrassed by the idea.

“It’s yours, you’ve made it your own. I want this memory, please, for me,” I say.

The crowd begin to stamp their feet on each syllable, the light fixtures above us begin to rattle and swing.

And I can see on her face that she’s willing and ready.

Calvi walks into the room, his nose looking bruised and puffy.

“What happened to you?” I ask pointing to his wounded face.

“It’s getting crazy out there, we have to go on stage now,” He says ignoring my question. I notice he doesn’t look at Lael at all and she’s glaring at him like I’ve never seen her glare before. There’s also a touch of smugness in her face.

“Okay man, sounds good, we’re not far behind,” I answer.

Calvi disappears. My attention is back on her. If this is the last show with Lael on this tour, I want to remember every moment. I want her to have an amazing experience that she can draw upon for years to come.

We stand up. I don’t say a word, we hold eye contact and let the energy rise. Every cell in my body is vibrating and I know she feels the same.

“I am going to miss you,” I say.

“I am not gone yet.”

“Then let’s do this thing,” I tell her.

We walk to the wing of the stage. We look at each other one last time before we both disappear to the place we need to be.

Lael walks on stage and the crowd stops it’s chanting and roars instead. She struts to her bass and I know there is not a woman in the room that doesn’t wish they had a fraction of her confidence.

I try not to think about what the men are thinking.

I wait from the wing of the stage and watch for a few moments.

A single spot light shines on her.

She takes a few steps to the edge of the stage and just stands there in the spotlight and lets a tension build.

Every eye in the room is on her.

As if she’s in slow motion she hits her bass with the side of her fist. The whole area shakes. The note rings out and echoes. Her eyes stay up and I imagine every single person in the arena feels like she’s looking them dead in the eye. She hits her bass again, still her eyes are up, stoic and in control.

Beautiful.

On the third hit she hits her famous pedal. It was loud before but it’s now violent. She’s on her knees, her technicolor hair over her face.

On the fourth hit the light man makes the entire stage glow teal.

I walk out and the entire band begin the slow, heavy, seductive riff. She whips her hair around and commands the stage, commands everything.

I stay back, beside the drums and watch her as if I were her biggest fan.

Perhaps I am.

She steps up to the mic and begins the verse;

Combing back my hair

Thinking of you, late night phone calls

Lead us to our end

I join her on the chorus, the crowd are perfectly unified, Switch and Calvi are in the pocket. We sing together:

An emptiness, I need a companion

In the dead of the night I can find reasons too

And there is something in you that turns me on

The way Lael says the last few words makes me wish I could record the song again. She makes the song sexier, she makes the band sound better. When the song ends the crowd tells her she did a good job. It’s a challenge to keep that energy up for the rest of the show. If we ever do that again we would close with it rather than open.

Lael is a tough act to follow.

But we manage.

We blow the crowd out of the water with each and every song.

It’s one hell of an amazing show.

When it’s over, we leave the stage and the crowd thanks us with a roaring applause that lasts longer than usual. I feel like they know it’s a special night.

“Wow, that was a good one, mates!” Arnie says to us. “Let’s get the VIP stuff out of the way so we can celebrate.”

Lately we’ve been doing all the meet and greets after the show. I prefer it that way. I can’t say I ever feel like doing it after the show but it’s a hell of a lot better than before when it takes me out of the zone. And sometimes the fans can really vibe you out.

Arnie guides us to where the radio winners and big spenders wait. We round a corner and I’m not only surprised by the amount of people waiting, I’m surprised at how many of them are teenage girls with teal hair.

I think we’re all taken aback.

“Look at all the mini-Laels,” I say to her.

I can tell she’s both flattered and embarrassed but she takes on the role well. I can’t think of a better mentor for these young girls to have. To me Lael is strength, she uses her feminine energy in a beautiful way that empowers her. It looks like she has some followers that feel empowered by her, too.

We all stand abreast as usual, the teal-haired young ladies skip right past Calvi, Switch, and I to meet Lael.

They look up to her with wide eyes. Lael becomes a slightly different version of herself when she greets the young ladies. She seems tougher in a way and I feel like she knows her manners are going to be emulated by these girls and she only has a moment with them.

I like her message; the world treats you like you let it, be tough.

I’m beyond proud. I’m not happy this is the last show with Lael for this tour but I couldn’t ask for a better send-off.

Lael takes pictures with all of them. There is a nice moment when a teal-haired young teen does a little princess pose for the camera and Lael shows her the rock and roll symbol with hand and demonstrating how to scowl. That little girl is still a princess when she leaves, but instead of a wand in her hand she carries a sword.

I’m high from the show in the best way. But what goes up must come down and when Lael gives me the look that she is leaving, I come down hard.

I crash.

“Alright partner, I will see you in a week,” Lael says with half a smile.

“Now, you’re leaving now?” I question.

“Come on, walk me out,” she says.

She exchanges hugs and goodbyes with Switch and Calvi. Her hug with Calvi was awkward and hard to watch. She laughs it off and we head down the hall, and we stop at a metal door that leads to the loading area.

“I have a ride waiting for me,” she says.

“So this is goodbye.”

“For a week,” she assures me. “Actually less than a week. You better come straight to my place when you get back to LA.” Her voice is soft and caring. “And text and call me whenever you can. I’ll update you with any baby news.”

“I’m going to miss you” I say. I am trying not to be over the top, I don’t want to freak her out.

But the truth is, it breaks my heart that she’s leaving.

Somehow, though, I keep it together to save face. I wish I could find the words but they’re just not there.

She opens the door and I hold it while she goes outside.

There’s a black limousine waiting.

Fuck. This is all happening so fast.

“Don’t forget about me Snyder,” she says as she struts away.

“Hate to see you go but I love to watch you leave,” I call out to her.

She turns her head and laughs.

We’re both grinning at each other.

It would be as good a send-off as I could ask for but then it happens.

This limousine door opens and Ronald steps out.

He’s wearing a long black trench coat and his lips are in a closed grin.

My smile disappears when we briefly make eye contact.

Lael doesn’t look back at me, she gets into the shiny black limousine and Ronald follows her.

As I lean against a post in the dark loading area and watch the limo drive away, I think about a song I released on an old album called Spaceship Limousine. It’s about a young limousine driver that modifies his limousine so it can fly to space in order to impress a woman.

It’s a song that wasn’t well received but it’s still one of my favorites. When you are in love with a gal, you will do anything to impress her. I’m in love with Lael and I will fly to the moon for her.

This is going to be the slowest, longest week of my life.