Thirty Seven

Some time later, after ‘Some Day’ and an encore or two, Emily wasn’t sure, the band left the stage and the house lights came back up. People filed out of the box and Emily watched elated fans streaming out of the arena, t-shirts and glowing sticks in their hands. She sat quietly, alone in the room, until a polite but pointed cough from the bartender brought her back to earth. Apologizing, she showed him her backstage pass, and he used a phone behind the bar to call a security guard, who appeared and unenthusiastically escorted her through long, featureless concrete corridors beneath the arena’s seats. At the end of one corridor, before a plain metal door, a few fans stood, positively vibrating with anticipation. The guard motioned them back, and although disappointed, none failed to comply and he and Emily slipped through the door unaccosted.

Inside, Emily could hear music and laughter and the clink of dishes. She smelled cigarette smoke mixed with the popcorn-beer-hotdog smell of the arena and grimaced unconsciously. Her stomach lurched and she was afraid she would throw up. If the guard hadn’t been beside her, she would have turned back. Instead, she forced her legs to keep walking and they reached a door from beyond which the sounds and smells of a raucous party emanated.

“There you go,” the guard indicated the door and turned around to leave without seeing Emily’s mute nod of thanks.

Timidly, she approached the door of the room. Although her insecurity and doubt about Trent’s feelings for her had vanished with ‘Life After’, she was highly apprehensive about their meeting tonight. Especially, now, when she had so much she needed to say, and no idea what he would say in response.