Page 8 of FWB

Tiegan

I normally get excited about any live music I go see, especially if it’s one of my friends playing.

Tonight, though, is special because I’m not flying solo for once.

Kiersten is my ride-or-die, but unless it’s Dermot Kennedy, she’s not much for live music.

So I’m usually left to my own devices when it comes to concerts.

I don’t mind. I tend to get so lost in the music I forget my own surroundings.

With Kenny and Rex coming along, I feel the need to dress up a bit more.

My outfit still needs to be appropriate for work because I’m not bringing a change of clothes, and I don’t have time to run home and change before the show.

I scrounge through my closet until I find what I’m looking for—my little black dress. Perfect.

This dress is exactly the look I’m going for.

It’s classy, yet with the deeper V-neck, it subtly shows off my ample breasts and the dragon tattoo that rests between them.

Cinching at my waist and flaring out into an A-line, it gives me the illusion of an hourglass figure.

I pair the dress with a pair of faux-leather red heels that ombre out to black at the heel.

They’re the sexiest pair of shoes I own.

My feet will be screaming by the end of the night, but pain is beauty.

I add a silver crescent moon necklace that sits nicely against my chest. Taking one last look in the mirror, I apply my signature red lipstick and a few spritz of Elizabeth & James Nirvana Bourbon.

The workday passes by in a daze. My manager and I have to prepare a bunch of documents for a court case one of the attorneys is working on.

That takes up the majority of my time. I grab a quick bite to eat for lunch with Jerome, and by the time I get around to doing my mail sweep of the floors, the IT department has already packed up and left for the day. That’s fine. I’ll see Kenny tonight.

By the time I’m ready to clock out, I’m exhausted.

There’s a lot more work that goes into this job than I thought there would be.

Between keeping up with the mail and preparing the legal documents, making sure each page is printed correctly, and putting them in the correct order, I’m beat.

I wish I could skip the show tonight, but I know I’ll regret bailing on Kenny and Rex if I do.

So I get in my car and stop to grab a quick bite for dinner, then head to the venue to grab a good parking spot.

There are still thirty minutes until the doors open, so I throw on my latest spicy audiobook and settle into my seat.

Twenty minutes later, as the parking lot starts to fill up, I check my reflection in the mirror one more time.

As I’m putting my visor back in place, there’s a knock on my driver’s side window.

I startle and notice it’s Kenny with Rex standing behind him.

I wave, grab my purse and keys from the ignition, and exit the car.

“Hey, scaredy cat,” Kenny teases as I shut my door.

“Yeah, yeah. Real cute.”

He looks me up and down. “You look nice. I like your shoes.”

“Thank you.” I gaze up at his eyes before silently appraising him. He’s wearing a Bruins T-shirt and a relaxed pair of jeans, with the same Vans he was wearing the other day.

“Y’all ready to go in?” Rex asks as Kenny and I just stare at each other.

“Lead the way.” I gesture towards the venue.

We make our way across the parking lot and up to the doors of the Basement East. After fishing out our IDs, we wait for the bouncer to secure the 21+ wristbands to our right wrists.

As we enter the short hallway that leads to the expansive venue space, Rex says, “I’m gonna go grab a drink. Y’all want anything?”

“Sure, I’ll come with you,” I reply as we all make our way to the bar.

Rex walks over to the nearest available bartender. She’s a tall, pretty natural blonde with pink streaks throughout her shoulder-length hair. I’m admiring her various tattoos and piercings when Rex says, “I’ll have whatever non-alcoholic beer you’ve got and whatever these two want.”

I peer up at him. “Thanks. I appreciate that.” Turning to the woman behind the bar, I say, “I’ll take a Jackalope Bearwalker, please.”

“And you?” The bartender gestures to Kenny.

“Jameson neat. Thanks.”

Once we have our drinks in hand, we make our way to the merch table and peruse the T-shirts the bands playing tonight have available. As Rex pulls out his wallet to purchase Dylan’s latest album on vinyl, Kenny turns to me and asks, “So do you go to concerts often?”

“Yeah, I try to go to as many as I can afford. Live shows are one of the few ways I can really let loose.”

“I feel that. I don’t go to as many as I’d like. Work keeps me pretty busy. I also don’t really enjoy going to shows alone. My roommate, Sam, plays a lot of music but it’s very niche. I support him, but I can only take so much Irish jig music.”

“Oh, man. Yeah, I can see that becoming irritating after a while.” I laugh as I take a drink of my beer. “Well, maybe we can go to some more shows together sometime? I’d like to think I have pretty good taste in music.”

“Yeah, I’d like that,” he says as he gives me one of his shy smiles and takes a sip of his whiskey.

At that moment, Rex returns with a new shirt slung over his shoulder and a wrapped vinyl record tucked under his right arm. “Ready to get our spots?”

“Sure,” I say, and we walk across the room to the stage area as the opening band sets up.

The house lights dim and the first chords of an acoustic guitar ring out through the speakers.

I don’t know who they are, but they are good.

Their soft rock melodies fill the in-between spaces that surround the swaying bodies.

The lead singer’s voice is like velvet, wrapping my eardrums in pure bliss.

I’m gonna have to pick up their album before I leave.

Finally, it is time for Dylan LeBlanc to take the stage.

The crowd comes to life as they catch a glimpse of him walking out.

Wearing tight bootcut jeans and a Black Sabbath T-shirt under a leather jacket with a cool hat on his head, Dylan is the epitome of a rockstar.

Suddenly, the lights come up as the haunting sounds of “Beyond the Veil” blare through the speakers.

Dylan’s unique voice fills the void and I’m transfixed.

This is the feeling I live for–the euphoria, the escape.

The only thing comparable is good sex, and god knows I’m not getting any right now.

I sway to the music, not caring who’s watching.

Midway through Dylan’s set, I look over to see Kenny’s reaction to the music. He’s stoic, but his head bobs slightly in time with the beat. I think he’s enjoying it. Good.

When the show ends and the band exits the stage, I tell the guys I want to say hello to Dylan, letting them know they’re more than welcome to tag along.

They both agree. While Kenny accompanies Rex to close out his tab, I swing by the merch booth to grab the record of the opening act—a local kid by the name of Ryman.

A few minutes later, Dylan comes out from the green room and sees me.

He smiles, waves, and heads in our direction, holding out his arms for a hug as he approaches.

I happily embrace him. I’ve known Dylan for years.

I became a fan after seeing him open up for Jessie Baylin and eventually became friends with him.

“Hey, Tiegan! Thanks so much for coming. I haven’t seen you in forever.”

“I know! You were incredible. I wouldn’t miss it. I also really liked your opener,” I gush.

“He’s great, right?” He notices my friends on either side of me. “Who do you have with you?” He reaches out his hand to shake the guys’.

“I’m Rex! Big fan. I loved your Renegade album!“ Rex vigorously shakes Dylan’s hand.

Kenny waves. “I’m Kenny. Nice to meet you. You put on a good show.”

“Thank y’all so much for coming! I really appreciate it,” Dylan says sincerely.

We say our goodbyes and leave Dylan to his hoard of adoring fans, who are patiently waiting for him to sign their vinyl records and posters.

As we head back into the warm summer night air, Rex says, “That was so cool! Thanks for introducing us. How do you know him?”

“Oh, Dylan and I go way back.”

“Nice. Well, guys, this is me,” he says, gesturing to his Chevy Blazer. “I’ll catch you guys tomorrow bright and early! I’ve got to get home and check on Tanner.”

We wave goodbye, and Kenny walks me to my car.

“That was really great. Thanks for inviting me out,” he says as we approach Salem.

“Well, technically, Rex invited you.” I laugh. “But I’m really glad you came. Did you have a good time?”

“I did. It was nice to get out of the house for something other than work.”

“Good. I always get kind of nervous introducing new people to music I enjoy.”

“Why is that?”

I blush. “I don’t know. I guess it’s like inviting that person into the most vulnerable parts of your life.

Music is such a special and sacred thing, to me, at least. When I show someone a song or an artist I love, I’m essentially exposing a little bit of myself to that person—my thoughts and feelings that I can’t put into words myself.

So I let the music do the talking for me. It can be intimidating.”

He thinks for a minute. “I guess I’ve never thought of it that way, but you have a point.” He pauses before looking at me so intently with those molten chocolate-brown eyes. “I’m glad you let me in tonight.”

My breath catches. I don’t know what to say, so I stay silent.

He waits a beat, then says, “I’m starving. Are you hungry?”

I can make a million excuses to decline like needing to get back to my cats, or it’s late and we have to work early tomorrow. But before I can protest, my stomach decides to growl. We both look down and laugh. “Yeah, I guess I could eat.”

“Waffle House?”

“Say less.”