Stepping out of the cooler bathroom into the warm bar, the room tilted and she placed her hand on the cool brick wall in the hallway. Now that Eric had finished playing and the adrenaline of being mere inches from him while he was on stage wore off, the churning in her stomach was back. She peered out the end of the hall and saw Eric shake hands and accept hugs from eager new fans as he made his way from the stage to the bar. She smiled wide knowing that almost anyone who saw him perform was bound to become an instant fan. He was going to be a star. Hell, he pretty much was one already. He’d gone for it, put himself out there and look at him now, living his dream.

A heavy sadness blanketed her, her art would never be so well received. No one would ever see her work, as it was, outside of her students in the classroom and her sister. She closed her eyes, rested her head against the wall and wrapped her arms around her waist. Small stomach cramps had her wincing as she rubbed her side. She couldn’t imagine being so celebrated in what she created. But the happiness for him at his soon-to-be stardom hadn’t diminished. He’d put in the work playing side stages at festivals, touring around, and producing music unlike anything she’d experienced before.

A hand on her shoulder made her jump and pulled her from her mini-sulk.

“Hey, there you are,” Eric said, beaming down at her. She swooned, her knees weak, partially because of the temperature in the bar, but also because of the heat coming off him. Fanning herself, she returned his smile.

“Had to run to the bathroom. I knew it would fill up once your new-found fans finished congratulating you on your set.”

“What did you think?

“Of what?” she said, smirking. His eyes narrowed before a broad smile spread across his face.

“You know, about the food.”

“Really delicious, Rox is an all-star in the kitchen,” she said, holding back a laugh and wincing at the sharp stitch in her stomach. His smile faltered, so she pasted a smile on her face and gripped her side. The rumbling wasn’t going away. She needed to get out of there fast. Torn between spending more time with Eric and passing out, she knew she’d need to make an escape soon. It would figure that the first time she’d been able to catch him there, the first time she talked to him, she was battling against a stomach in revolt.

“About my performance,” he said, gesturing to the stage. Putting him out of his misery, she placed her hand on his arm, a jolt traveling up her arm as their skin touched.

“I know. I was just messing with you. It was great, like every time I’ve seen you play. Harnessing all that energy up there, the way you keep your focus and still keep things so fluid and fun makes it an unforgettable experience.” Blushing at the thought that she may have just fan girled way too hard, she pulled her hand back, stared down at her shoes, and picked at the skin on her thumb. Her stomach flipped and she pushed off the wall. She needed to get out of there.

A lot of those are songs off the new album,” he said, dipping his head, trying to catch her eyes.

“I know,” she said, peering up at him.

“You do?” His eyebrows furrowed.

“I saw you at a couple of festivals last year. You played some of those songs. And I may or may not have been able to track down a pirated copy of your sets,” she said, evading his eyes and edging toward the door. He threw his head back and laughed.

“A real fan, huh?”

“I like what you’ve done with some of them. They are a little different than the last time I heard them.” She wove through the crowd with Eric behind her. Why was he following her? Why did he have to be interested in her conversation and fun to talk to. The churning in her stomach got more intense.

“Being in the studio does that sometimes. You have a bit more freedom to mix things and change it up. Then came the hard part of recreating it for the live shows. Mark did me a favor letting me perform tonight. Gave me another chance to practice before going back on tour.”

“Oh, yeah. I’m sure it was a huge favor,” she said, glancing back, her lips quirking up.

“No, seriously. It’s important to play these smaller gigs and see how the fans react up close. Especially people who don’t know the music well. Being an opener, that’s pretty much the only people I’m playing for. They have no clue who I am.”

“But I’m sure there are big fans from the first note of your first song.” Her stomach rumbled. She suppressed a grimace and plastered on a smile.

He ran a hand across the back of his neck. “I wish that were the case. Glad you have so much faith in my ability to convert fans.”

“They would be seriously missing out if they didn’t give you a chance.”

“Maybe I need to have you come out and make my pre-show announcements for when I’m on tour as an opener. With you in my corner I won’t get booed off stage before I’ve finished my first song.”

“Has that seriously happened to you before?”

“Oh yeah,” he said, smiling sadly.

“Sure, invite me the next time you’re in town and I’ll make sure those fans know what a treat they are in for.” A group of people came between them, gushing over Eric and his guitar. They pulled him with them to the bar and she waved at him as he looked over his shoulder at her. He waved her forward to join them.

“I’ll be there in a few.”

“There she is,” Mark said, coming up behind her with his arms wrapped around her stomach. He rocked her back and forth and the bile rose in her throat. She pushed on his arms, desperate to get out of his bear hug. He let her go and then turned, giving him a hug. Mark was a great guy. Jen was really lucky to have him following her all the way to New York and giving up his family’s bar.

“I can’t believe you’re leaving.”

“I know, New York. It’s crazy, but it’s the right move,” he said, staring over his shoulder with a dopey grin on his face. She turned to look and saw Jen talking with some friends across the bar.

“Yes, it was. She’s quite a catch and an amazing artist.”

“Like you,” he squeezed her shoulder.

“No, not like me at all.”

“Keira, I don’t know why you do this to yourself. You’re amazing. You have amazing talent. I wish you’d see what everyone else saw.” She knew he was only saying this because he didn’t know much about art. He didn’t know what it was like to bare your soul and have people peer into it, judging, poking, and prodding. After trying that once and finding out she wasn’t good enough, she didn’t know if there were enough bandages in the world to put her back together after another failure.

“She’s going to do amazing things, Mark. Take care of her and support her.” Her eyes misted up, knowing her friend would do everything he could to ensure Jen succeeded. How would things have turned out for her if she’d had someone like Mark backing her up? Someone willing to make sacrifices like he was.

“Always, of course. Are you okay? You’re not looking so well.” He put the back of his hand to her clammy forehead.

“I think I ate something that didn’t agree with me.” A look of horror washed over his face. She swiped her hands in front of her. “Not here! Back home before I got here. Nothing Rox made could ever make me sick. I’m sad I didn’t really get to try any of her stuff tonight.”

“You know the kitchen is always open for you when it comes to Rox. Feel free to stop by whenever. You know you’re on the VIP List.” He hugged her and she hugged him back. Her stomach did not appreciate the squeeze.

“I’d better go,” she said, the queasiness rolling through her stomach, sweat pouring off her even more now. Splashing her face after Eric’d finished playing had only a minimal effect on her queasiness. She hadn’t wanted to miss a moment, so as soon as he hit the last note, she’d dashed off to the bathroom and rested her head against the cool stall door. Thankfully, she didn’t wear much make up at all, so she didn’t look like a drowned rat. But she could tell her stomach revolt was impending and she needed to get out of there.

Popping into the kitchen, she checked on Rox, who promptly kicked her out, grumbling that there was nothing wrong with her. They hugged, which again, roiled Keira’s stomach. Clutching it, she strode out of the kitchen where the smells and sights turned her stomach even more. At least the watery mouth hadn’t taken hold. Plowing out of the kitchen, she ran smack into Eric.

“There you are,” he said, beaming.

“You were looking for me?” she squeaked.

“Yes, you’re pretty much my only fan here.”

“I doubt that,” she said, moving around him, trying to get to the door.

“You were the only one that knew most of the words to all my songs,” he teased. She swallowed rapidly as the heat prickled her skin, now covered in a sheen of sweat.

“I’ve got a great memory.” She needed to get away from him right now. “I’m heading out, okay? It was great finally meeting you and maybe I’ll be able to catch a show sometime soon,” she said, practically running for the front door. Of course this would have to happen this time. No more mystery take out containers for her.

The only thing worse than puking from food poisoning was puking on your musical crush due to food poisoning. He opened his mouth like he wanted to say something, but she rushed off, pushing through the crowd to get to the front door. The relatively cooler air outside helped quell some of her sweatiness, but she still felt like crap.

Standing outside The Bramble she ordered her taxi, her vision blurred and the street wobbled under her feet. Stupid move driving to the bar in the first place, but she hadn’t wanted to pay for a taxi both ways. Tomorrow, she’d have to take the bus to pick up her car. All she wanted to do was curl up on the ground and maybe she’d be able to sleep through this. Maybe.