'S mise le meas 002

Chapter Two: Venue

As I approached the venue, my stomach started to clench. I had been in the Morris PAC before, for art shows, but I had never been near the auditorium, much less backstage. I waited outside the entrance door while I texted Damian, telling him of my arrival. I thought about heading back home because I was feeling sick. Then I realized: I was nervous. I never got nervous. I could honestly say that I had never felt nervous in my life up until that point. I could see through the glass doors that there was a crowd of people in the lobby, obviously excited. But they weren't moving into the auditorium yet. Was I too early?

I felt someone touch my shoulder and I turned quickly. I would have screamed, but I seemed to know before I saw him that it was Damian. Maybe it was his smell... He smelled almost like... rain... mixed with grass... He smelled like outside during autumn just before or after a thunder storm. I remembered sitting in the garage with Nick and watching it rain when I was little. I could feel the thunder through my chair and would always ask how loud each clap of thunder was. I think I may have annoyed him, but he was always loving and kind. He never got upset with me.

I was brought back to the present when Damian started to pull me to the side of the building.

"We're going in the back way," I saw him say. I didn't blame him. Surely all of the people crammed into the lobby knew his face and would no doubt be caught in a frenzy if they saw him. That's when I noticed that he had a streak of light color across his forehead. I held back a laugh. Once he pulled me through the side door, I stopped him.

"You have something on your face," I said, unable to hold the laughter in, and letting out a chuckle. He nodded.

"I know," he said. "I was in the middle of makeup when you texted me, and I came to get you."

"How thoughtful of you," I said. "But, why are you wearing makeup?" Was it a singer thing?

"The stage lights will wash out our faces if we don't," he said. "It's so we don't disappear on stage, basically. We don't do anything like in theater with all the craziness they have going on, but just the basics. There are actually photos in the dressing rooms of different shows that have gone on in this building and some of them are frightening. I'll show you in a bit." He talked as he walked. He led me down a couple hallways and up a flight of stairs to another hallway. I was already lost in the large building. He paused by a door. "I'll introduce you to the boys, then let you chat with them while I finish makeup. All right?" I nodded. "Good. Prepare yourself." What did he mean by that? Too late to ask: he'd already opened the door and walked in. I followed. It was a brightly lit room with mirrors all along three of the walls. The back wall had sinks and another door that said "Restroom." Various articles of clothing were hanging on racks and makeup cluttered the counters. Four men sat in the middle of the room and stared at me as I followed Damian in. One of them--one with short-cut brown hair--stood.

"Damian, what if we were dressing?" he accused. The three who remained seated smirked. "You know better than to bring your girlfriend in here without knocking!" I looked to Damian, afraid that I'd gotten him into trouble. I was surprised to see that he was smirking as well.

"You all were dressed before I left to get her," he said. "Stop being such a goof ball, Paul." The men openly laughed now. I noticed Damian hadn't corrected the girlfriend comment. I smiled. The man--Paul--turned to the one with long-ish blonde hair.

"I told you," he said and held out his hand. The blonde reached into his pocket and pulled out a five dollar bill. Paul took it from him. "Thank you." I looked back to Damian when I saw him move towards one of the mirrors. I read his lips through the mirror and got about half of his sentence.

"...appreciate it when you bet over my reactions," he said, picking up a triangular sponge. "I'm not a thing for you to play with." I looked to the blonde, who stood and spoke.

"Damian, you know we tease all of the group, not just you," he said, walking over to Damian, who was evening out the makeup on his forehead. He laid a hand on his shoulder and brought Damian's eyes to meet his. It reminded me of when I got teased in third grade to my face (obviously not behind my back) and Nick was trying to knock some sense into me and telling me that bullies are stupid (He was in sixth grade. It was the best advice he could give.). What that kid said to me was downright mean. These guys were obviously playing, but Damian did have a point about the betting.

"It's not the teasing," Damian said. "I can deal with the teasing, Keith." He had a small smile creeping up his face. "It's the betting. If you want some entertainment, I think that's fine, but why gamble over it? There's no point." In the mirror, I saw the bald man speak.

"The lad has a point," he said.

"Thank you, George," Damian said then turned around and leaned against the counter. His makeup was done, and it was hardly noticeable. "I appreciate that." George nodded. I was wondering if Damian was saying their names on purpose so I would know who they were. There was only one left for me to figure out: the one with short, black hair. He had been the quietest out of the group. He hadn't spoken a word since I'd arrived. He seemed tired. Damian noticed too. "No sleep again, Ryan?" Ryan rubbed at his eyes and shook his head. "Same old, same old?" Another nod. "Sorry, mate." A small smile crept up Ryan's mouth.

"You always have the greatest sympathy, Damian," he said. "Thank you for noticing." He gave a small glance at the others in the room. "But I had a tall cup of coffee with lots of sugar, so I'll be good to go in a moment." Damian made a face of disapproval, but let it go.

He reached under his collar and pulled out a small stick-looking thing with a ball on the end of it. It was attached to a cord that ran down his shirt. He hooked it over his ear as he said, "It's almost time to start, lads!" The room was suddenly full of energy. I could feel it. All the men were smiling and they all stood. Ryan looked fully awake now. I jumped when I felt a hand on my shoulder, and turned. A woman with long dark hair was standing there looking at the guys.

"...in five minutes," I saw her say. The five men jumped into the air with excitement. They must really like doing these shows. I looked at Damian, and his eyes quickly found mine. He walked over to me.

"Lila, this is Zara," he said, indicating the woman with her hand on my shoulder. "Zara, this is Lila."

"It's a pleasure to meet you," she said, and moved her hand from my shoulder to offer it to me. I shook it.

"Same here." Zara looked at Damian and hid her mouth from me. Whatever she said made Damian blush and look away from her, but a smile was on his face. Zara began talking again.

"When the guys go out on stage, you'll be in here, watching the monitors. There's going to be one camera on each individual as the songs go through, and one more on the entire stage. When one of them isn't on stage, the camera assigned to them will roam the stage and audience as well. All of our camera operators are top notch and know what they're doing. I go out on stage on a few songs, but I spend the majority of my time back here helping organize the guys' wardrobe changes." She pointed to the racks of clothing, and I quickly glanced, returning quickly to her mouth. "Each of them has their own rack and I put the clothing in order, and some pieces of clothing shift around multiple times. You'll see throughout the concert. I'm actually very busy." She addressed the whole group. "Boys! Get your coats! Come on! One minute!" They each rushed over to their clothing rack and grabbed the first article of clothing from it: a long leather coat.

I couldn't help but get excited myself. In was contagious. Zara rushed the boys out of the room. Damian was the last to leave, and he stopped to talk to me.
"I'll be back in seven minutes," he said with a smile. He hesitated, then flinched as if someone had called his name. He made a split-second decision and pulled me to him in a tight hug. I had only just begun to hug back when he rushed down the hallway after the others.