Then his eyes drift away from mine.
“So I see we have Stockholm’s finest in here tonight. Ladies you look beautiful tonight … and guys, well hang on tight to your girls is all I’m sayin’,” he releases a slow, chuckle. Moving back slightly, he looks at me, gives me a wink and a secret smile, then launches into one of their early hits. ‘Undress You’.
And boy do I feel undressed.
And I stand here experiencing the Jake Wethers experience in full 3D HD glory feeling exposed and naked, and good lord it’s amazing.
I feel high.
On him.
His voice is like hands moving over my skin touching me. His hands. Touching me.
I want that now.
No I don’t.
I mean it’s just a reflex reaction to the rock star lover in me. The dream of wanting to be the one to tame him.
Of course it’s not real.
Halfway through the show, Jake slows things down to a stop.
He swings his guitar to rest behind him and, lifts his hand to his head, running his fingers through his hair. “I just wanted to pause for a minute to talk about Jonny…”
A few fans cry out from the crowd, “Jonny we fuckin’ love you!”
I feel the hairs on my arms prickle. I can see how hard this is for Jake. And I think of him talking to me in bed last night about Jonny. How Jonny was his glue. That Jonny and me were so similar, and I wonder now if that’s how he stills see me – as his strength. I get the sudden urge to want to hold him, run my fingers through his hair, kiss him and tell him everything will always be okay.
Jake bows his head, resting it against the mike.
My throat tightens, tears biting my eyes, as I worry that he’s losing it again, here on stage.
Denny’s over his drum-kit, jumping it in on swift move and he’s at Jake’s side instantly. He puts his hand on Jake’s shoulder, and rests his forehead against Jake’s head, speaking into his ear. Tom is there now too. I notice Smith, takes leave to the side of the stage.
The stadium is at a standstill.
There is a golf ball the size of Africa formed in my throat. Tears welling in my eyes, as I watch these three men who I know, one of whom I love very much, still grieving over the loss of their best friend.
I glance at Stuart beside me. His eyes look glazed. It must have been hard on him too losing Jonny. I know he works for Jake, but he would have known him too.
Feeling overcome with emotion, I press my lips together and wrap my arms around myself, then look back out to the stage. Back to Jake.
Jake lifts his head and clears his throat. “I met Jonny at high-school. I’d just moved to the States from the England, I was the new awkward British kid - a little lost and a lot lonely, and there he was. He took me under his wing and taught me to be his level of cool.” He pulls in a deep breath. “We formed TMS, with just the two of us. Then at college we met Denny through one of Jonny’s many girlfriends, and Denny introduced us to Tom, and that’s when TMS was properly born.” Another deep breath. Jake glances at Denny, then Tom. “Jonny wasn’t just our band member,” he says looking straight ahead. “And he wasn’t just our best friend … or our wing-man. He was the mighty in our storm. The man was a fuckin’ musical genius, and he was taken from us too soon. And we miss him every single fuckin’ day.”
Jake pulls his mike out from the stand and walks to the front of the stage, Tom and Denny following, as a runner hands him up three bottles of Jack.
He hands one each to Tom and Denny.
“So I want you to all raise your drinks for Jonny Creed - the best guy this world ever had the good fortune to know.” Jake raises his bottle and looks up the sky. “Jonny man, we love you and we miss you every day, and I know for sure that you’re looking down right now with a bottle in your hand, a cigarette in the other, saying, ‘Quit being a set of pussies and give these good people the show they fuckin’ paid to see!’ ”
I see Tom and Denny smiling at Jake’s words, nodding their agreement.
Jake chinks bottles with them both, and the three of them, at the same time, throw the whiskey back.
The crowd is screaming out Jonny’s name.
Men and women are openly crying in the audience. And I can’t help the tear that runs from my eye.
I quickly wipe it away.
Jake returns back to the mike stand with his much lighter whiskey bottle. He fits his mike in the stand. Denny climbs back into his drum kit, Tom wandering back to his place on Jake’s right hand side.
And for this moment, all three of them look a little lost, together.
It makes my heart ache with love for Jake.
Jake leans down and puts his whiskey bottle by the mike stand.