Then the entire stage goes dark and even the audience is quiet. You could hear a pin drop. The anticipation for Noah’s performance is so thick, I don’t know how he can bear it.
Noah takes a deep breath, then walks out onto the stage in near-complete darkness. I can just about make out his silhouette as I watch from the wings. He adjusts the microphone in its stand, shuffling his feet until he feels comfortable. Then he places his hands on the guitar and strums his first note. The sound reverberates around the theatre.
The spotlight snaps on, he sings the first few bars of “Elements,” and the screaming cheers from the 4,500-strong audience rise into a roar.
And that’s when I realize that I’m crying.
Chapter Seven
“Hey, Penny, you might want to go to your seat to watch the rest of Noah’s performance,” says Dean from behind me.
“Oh . . . what?” Dean’s voice snaps me from my spell; watching Noah out onstage is mesmerizing. Reluctantly I tear my eyes away from him. “I guess so. How do I get there from here?” I’m supposed to watch the rest of the show in the VIP area, where Elliot and Alex are too.
“Just follow this hallway and you’ll come to a staircase. Go down it and out the door, then you’ll be in the main stalls. You should be able to find your way around to the VIP sections up on the next level from there.” Dean is wearing a headset and he appears to be distracted by something someone has said in his ear, because his face loses some of its colour and he looks wound up like a clockwork toy.
“OK, thanks. I’ve got it,” I say with more confidence than I feel. Dean takes off and I try to follow his instructions quickly so I remember them. I know that Noah’s set isn’t that long, and I don’t want to miss a moment.
I break into a jog, carefully picking my way through the maze of the backstage area, and fly through the door that leads into the stalls. Just like that, I’m launched out into the crowd. Down here, it’s so much louder than backstage. There are booming speakers, and girls (the crowd is pretty much all girls) are screaming and leaning across the barriers that separate them from Noah. They reach out, their arms waving, desperate for a piece of him. Like this, they stop being individuals and seem to merge into one entity, filled with rabid excitement. There was a specific announcement before the show not to throw presents up onstage, but I can already see girls are tossing teddy bears and flowers—and even a bra—at Noah’s feet.
The adrenaline buzz of excitement rings through me, but it’s edged with the extra-sharp teeth of nerves. The security staff move me along, not allowing me to linger by the entrance to the backstage area, and I’m thrown even deeper into the crowd. I look up at the balcony and try to find Elliot. Luckily, he’s easy to spot, since he’s right at the front by the railing with Alex. They’re listening to “Elements” with their eyes locked together, arms wrapped round each other’s shoulders. It’s such a sweet—and rare—moment that my heart lifts.
They kiss, and I take out my phone and snap a picture of them, gutted that I left my proper camera in the dressing room. Even though it comes out dark, it still looks really atmospheric, and I can’t wait to show Elliot later. He’ll love it—he’s wanted a picture of the two of them together for ages. Whenever I try to take a picture of them, Alex turns all shy. He isn’t out to all his friends and family yet, so he shies away from any public displays of affection. Elliot has been really patient with him, and knows from his own experiences that he needs to let Alex take his time, but it’s still a challenge that they both have to deal with.
Someone bumps into me, knocking my phone out of my hand. “Hey!” I shout and turn round, but the girl who knocked me doesn’t even notice—she’s too busy singing along to Noah’s lyrics and jumping up and down. I look down for my phone and spot it underneath her feet.
I make a dive for it, but it just gets kicked further along the sticky floor.
“Oh, sorry about that!” the girl shouts, finally noticing me.
“No problem,” I say, but the words catch in my throat. I need to get my phone. I lean down and try to follow its path, but every time I think I see it again it is moved further away.
I wince as someone steps on my fingers, and that split second is enough to make me lose sight of my phone. I swear my heart stops beating for a moment. Then I see it again—in a small clearing of feet. I drop down to the ground, grabbing for it. But, once again, it’s kicked out of my reach. Through the sea of legs, I see a hand reach down and pick up my phone.
“Hey, that’s mine!” I shout. Desperation sets in, and I crawl on my hands and knees, pushing through the crowd and nearly getting trampled.
“What are you doing?!”
“What the hell?!”
I ignore the complaints as I push past a forest of bare legs and ripped denim, but it’s no use. My phone is gone.
I stand up before I get crushed, frantically searching the crowd for the phone thief. Every face looks the same: wide-eyed and staring at my boyfriend up onstage. I’m the only one whose eyes are not on Noah. Another person shoves my shoulder, launching me into the person behind me, who yells at me. Luckily the crowd drowns her words out, but I know they aren’t friendly. “I’m sorry,” I try to say, but I suddenly feel so enclosed. There’s no space for me to move, let alone breathe.
I see the bright red EXIT sign above everyone’s heads and I try to make a beeline for it. I feel like I’m swimming against a strong tide, caught in a current that is threatening to drag me under. I can hear Noah talking to the crowd between songs but it feels like a million miles away.