He hurried off to start his show, and I couldn’t help but notice that a large majority of the crowd backstage had already disappeared—everyone wanted to see the D-Bags perform. Making my way to the side of the stage, I found a spot where I wouldn’t be in the way, but I’d have a killer view. That’s when I fully realized just how packed the house was. The floor before the stage was crammed with people. They were jammed in so tight, I almost wondered if the club was in violation of some city ordinance; surely they were over capacity. But no one in the audience seemed to care that they were squished like sardines, especially when Kellan strutted onto the stage.
Guitar slung over his back, Kellan raised a hand as he walked to the microphone stand. The room erupted into shrieks. While the other guys bounded into position, Kellan leaned into the mike and murmured, “Evenin’.”
Hearing the reverse of his typical greeting made me chuckle. It made the crowd jump up and down. When the screaming diminished somewhat, a section of the crowd simultaneously yelled out, “We love you, Kellan!”
Kellan shielded his eyes from the bright lights beating down on him and scanned the audience. “I love you guys too.” He laughed, and the girls in the front row looked they might hyperventilate—if they could breathe to begin with, that is.
Removing the guitar from his back, Kellan asked the crowd, “Is everybody having a good time?”
My ears rang a little after the shrieking response. Kellan cocked his head as he flipped the guitar around and slipped the strap over his shoulder. The body of the guitar was now resting right in front of his pelvis, and there was something insanely erotic about that. “Hmmm, I don’t know. Doesn’t really sound like you guys are having fun.”
Jumping and screaming, the crowd tried to prove to him that they were indeed having a good time. The display made me laugh. Kellan shook his head. “Let’s try that again. I said, is everybody having a good fucking time!” He shouted his question this time, and the crowd went nuts. They even started stomping their feet; it sounded like an earthquake was rolling through the building.
Satisfied, Kellan glanced back at Evan and nodded. Taking that at his cue, Evan started the intro to the first song. There were some things in this life that I would never get tired of. Watching Kellan perform was one of those things. He just had that spark that made it impossible to take your eyes off of him. And unlike a lot of singers I’d watched, Kellan didn’t just stand behind his microphone and belt out his songs. No, he actively engaged the crowd, making them a part of the show. I was positive that everyone in that audience felt a connection with him at some point during his set. Kellan’s ability to sound amazing, while still being fun and playful, was one of his greatest attributes. When it came to music, at least. I could think of several other highlights that had nothing to do with being on stage.
When the D-Bags were done, they each bowed and darted off the stage. Kellan scooped me into his arms right away, and I could tell he was flying high, energized from the performance. Nuzzling my neck, he murmured, “Let’s go back to the bus.”
My eyes fluttered closed as I considered it. Justin was up next, and a lot of the other band members were still mingling and celebrating backstage. We’d probably have a little bit of privacy if we left right now. After the final performance wrapped up, the boys would all filter back to the busses and we’d hit the road, so alone time would be out of the question.
I was grabbing the belt buckle loops of his jeans and pulling his hips into mine when I heard a warbled chant coming from the crowd. I opened my eyes and strained to understand what I was hearing. Kellan lifted his head and turned his face to the stage. He was sweaty from performing, and his hair was damp around the edges. It was a distracting sight, so I turned to face the stage as well. “What are they chanting? I can’t make it out.”
Kellan bunched his brows as he listened. It wasn’t the band’s name, it was too long. After another couple of seconds, the crowd’s chants lined up and the word they were saying finally made sense. Twisting back to me, Kellan said, “They’re saying ‘Regretfully.’ They want to hear the single.”
I nodded, since that’s what I was hearing too. Kellan frowned as his gaze returned to the stage. “We don’t have her vocal track. We can’t perform that song without Sienna . . . unless . . .” When he looked back at me, there was such a devilish gleam in his eye that I knew exactly what he was thinking. I shoved him away and tried to scramble out of his arms. Laughing, Kellan held me tight. “Sorry, babe. You know I don’t like disappointing the fans, and you’re the only one here that can fill in for Sienna.”
I had twisted in his arms and my back was to him; he had a viselike grip around my waist and I couldn’t break free. “No way in hell, Kyle! I am not going up there!”
Still laughing, Kellan started backing me up onto the stage. “I’m sorry, but you’re gonna have to sing with me tonight.”
I started screaming and kicking like he was mugging me until he finally let me go. Tears of laughter in his eyes, he asked, “Don’t you want to live out your girl band fantasy? I’ll help you through it, and if you get sick, there’s usually a bucket in the corner.”