Four months.    

Four months of almost constant practices, bickering over set lists and arrangements. Four months with three of the best people I've ever known.     

The last four months have led me here, backstage at some dive bar, minutes away from taking the stage.    

And I'm nervous as all hell.    

Honestly, this should be a walk in the park compared to things I've done in the past, but that knowledge doesn't seem to keep my hands from shaking.    

I've played countless bars and clubs, just like this one, but I can't remember ever being this nervous. I don't think I ever really allowed my nerves to take over.    

I was always so determined to just go out there and blow people away. I was working toward something then, but now... now it's just something to do. There's no goal behind it.    

It's just for entertainment.    

"Ready?" Lucas shoots me a tight smile as he slides the strap of his guitar around his neck.         

"Course." I shrug, doing my best to match some of his confidence.    

"It'll be fine... this is our regular crowd. Not real sure how they'll feel about you though... they were a little partial to Leslie."    

"Oh nice one smartass." Stella mutters and rolls her eyes, her ever present drum sticks inching toward Lucas's head.     

I swear to god, it's damn near impossible to figure this guy out.     

I know none of my accomplishments matter to him, which is fine by me, but the way he doubts my ability sometimes, really pisses me off.    

He may not give a shit that I've won a handful of awards and sold millions of albums, but I can sing my ass off and he knows it, yet refuses to acknowledge it.    And I haven't got a clue why.    

Stella's told me a thousand times that he has every one of my albums and at one point, even had a rather large poster of me hanging in his room. But, he treats me like I'm barely good enough to play in his cover band.    

But the really weird thing is... we get along great most of the time.     

He's the biggest smartass I've ever known, insanely talented, smart as hell and drop dead gorgeous on top of that.    

And alright fine, his indifference toward my talent bugs the shit out of me because I have a huge crush. I can't even explain it, but I want to impress him. I want him to think I'm the most amazing thing to ever walk the face of the earth.    

Basically.... I want him to treat me the way Justin did when we first got together.    

I shake my head at that thought and try to focus on what's happening around me. Now is so not the time to start thinking about Justin.    

"People... can we chill for two seconds? We all know everyone is here to see me. The rest of you may as well not even walk out on stage." Benny grins as Stella pushes him roughly into the wall.    

A second later, we're given our cue and the four of us file out onto the stage. I swallow hard as I approach the mic stand in the center of the stage and try to clear my head.    

It really hasn't been that long since I performed. There's no reason to be this nervous. Plus, it's not like the pressure is solely on me. There's three other people here to take some of the focus and I am beyond grateful for that.    

But, I'm still terrified that I'm going to fall on my face, that these people won't think I'm good enough. And in that case, having three other people involved doesn't seem so great.    

It's almost kind of funny how you can know exactly what you're capable of, but still doubt yourself when you're actually in the moment.     

The stage lights come up and I'm blinded for a split second. Stella begins the drum intro for Tusk and I swallow the lump in my throat.     

I can't see them, but I know every set of eyes in the building are on me and my hands shake as I grip the microphone tightly. The room begins to spin around me and I quickly look down at my feet, fighting the urge to throw up.     

Lucas gives me a small nudge before retreating to his side of the stage and beginning the song. It's then that I look up to find him staring at me, grinning from ear to ear.    

I expected it to be one of those condescending, I knew you'd fail kind of smiles, but even I can see there's nothing but encouragement behind it.     

If I really want to impress him, now would be the time to step up and do it.

Why don't you ask him if he's going to stay?
Why don't you ask him if he's going away?
Why don't you tell me what's going on?
Why don't you tell me who's on the phone?
Why don't you ask him what's going on?        

My voice seems to echo Lucas's and within seconds, I can see various heads in the crowd bobbing along with the beat, mouthing the words in synch with the two of us.       

And just like that, I remember exactly what it's like to be on stage in front of thousands of people, hearing them sing along with me. It's a high like no other and it seems to have hit me full force within a matter of seconds.         

My nerves and anxiety have vanished completely.     

I'm back.

***********************    

"Seriously... that was fantastic. Best local show I've been to in forever."    

"Thanks." I smile and excuse myself from one of our newfound fans and crane my neck, searching the bar as quickly as I can.    

As soon as we stepped off the stage, we all piled our equipment into the van, then headed back into the bar to stay and watch the other bands.    

I expected us to hang out together, but apparently the routine of this sort of thing is completely lost on me.     

Stella ran into some of her friends from work, Benny was trying his hand at seducing some of the drunk groupie chicks and Lucas... who the fuck knows where he went, but I am bound and determined to find out.     

I'm sure any normal and reasonable person would have blown off the little exchange we had on stage as friendly encouragement, and maybe it's the crazy chick with a crush in me coming out, but I've got a funny feeling there was something else behind it.     

Even though we get along and seem to work fairly well together, I know Lucas fully expected me to choke up there. From day one, it's been pretty obvious to me that he didn't want me in this band.     

Maybe it was all about saving his own ass. Maybe he knew that if I choked, the whole band would look bad.     

I finally spot him at the bar and can't help but chuckle at the sight of some hammered floozy talking his ear off. She must be pretty out of it or is entirely too stupid to see the utterly bored look etched on his face and the way he rolls his eyes in annoyance every few seconds.    

I slide onto the bar stool next to him and he immediately turns to face me, a relieved smile planted on his face. It doesn't take long for Drunky McSlut to get the hint and she disappears into the crowd.    

 "Thanks. I was starting to think I'd have to buy a dude a drink to get her to back the fuck off."    

"Eh... it's nothing. So... the show went well."    

Not to sound cocky or anything, but once I was able to get over my nerves, we kicked some major ass up there and I defy anyone to tell me otherwise.     

The four of us had a blast and it was easy to see that the crowd was into it. All in all... things went about as well as humanly possible.     

"Yeah, definitely." He nods slowly, taking a long sip of his beer.     

"Hi... I'm Liz." A pretty redhead approaches us, a bright smile on her face as she stares at Lucas. "Can I..." Her eyes shift to me a second later and a slight frown crosses her features. "Umm... never mind. Good show." She shoots him another fleeting smile and takes off, much like the drunken blonde who was here a few minutes ago.     

"You seem to be quite the chick repellant. I'll have to remember that." He chuckles and shakes his head.     

"Call it a gift." I shrug. "So anyway... I umm... I wanted to thank you."    

"For?" As usual, he looks and sounds bored out of his mind, and maybe even a little confused.    

"Well... I was choking up there... obviously." I mutter and roll my eyes at my own stupidity. "And you kind of... pulled me out of it."    

"You were fine." He waves me off and turns to order another beer. "It was the first show... of course you were nervous. Happens to everybody."    

So much for thinking there was more to it, I guess.    

"Shit." He sighs and shakes his head. "You're one of those people who analyzes shit to death, aren't you?"    

"No." I mumble. This is one of those times where the fact that I'm a horrible liar is going to bite me in the ass, I just know it.     

"Yeah, you are." He laughs quietly to himself. "Alright look... yeah, you were choking, which seems to confirm your reputation. But the thing is... this is my band Madison. Everything I do is for this band. And ok fine... playing some shitty bar in some shitty little town may not mean much to you, but it does to me. I'm trying to build something here and I can't afford mistakes."    

"Excuse me?"    

Alright... I'm pissed. There's no other way to describe it.    

I let myself think we were getting along, that maybe somewhere along the line we'd be friends.    

Shows how much I fucking know.    

"I'm not trying to be a prick... I'm being honest." He says simply and shrugs. "Benny and Stella are about as motivated as fucking rocks, so it all falls back on me. If this is gonna go anywhere, I've got to work for it. And as good as you are... I see no point in you being here. You had the kind of shit I'm working toward, and you walked away from it."     

"Ever think maybe I had a reason for leaving?"    

"And I'm sure you do." He nods slowly. "But... that's not the point. Honestly Madison... if you want that life back... if you're ready to go back there... I have absolutely no problem with you. But...if this is just something for you to do, something to fuel your ego with... don't waste my time or theirs."    

"I do not fucking get you." I fume at him. "One minute we're all cool and the next you're tearing me down, like I'm not fucking good enough."    

He chuckles softly and shakes his head. "I'm not trying to tear you down... it's call honesty Madison. The problem is... you're too fucking good. I would sell my soul to keep you in this band... but I'm smart enough to know that you don't want the same things I do, and it pisses me off that you're hanging around, building this reputation with us, but when push comes to shove... you're not gonna stick it out."    

"What if I am?" I blurt the words out before I even have time to think about it.    

"Seriously?" He arches an eyebrow at me and I bite down on my lip.    

Shit.    

I hadn't put much thought into this.    

I mean, yeah... I'd considered the idea that possibly, this could lead to something more, but it never seemed realistic, especially when Stella and Benny both pointed out the fact that they didn't think it was going anywhere either.     

But, would it really be that awful?    

Obviously, my past experience with labels and the press would come in handy. We wouldn't be going into this blindly like so many bands do. I've got plenty of contacts to get us a head start.    

And, I can deny it as much as I want, but being on that stage tonight kind of put the fire back in me. It all came back to me the second I sang that first line. I didn't want it to end.     

And... agreeing to this would definitely improve things with Lucas.     

Not that he's the driving force or anything, but it'd definitely be one of the benefits. And call me crazy, but I'm not really seeing a downside to any of this yet.    

"Yeah. Seriously." I nod and he smiles brighter than I've seen in the time I've known him.    

"Alright then. Hope you don't have plans for the days between practices, cause you and I are going to start writing."    

"You write?"    

"A little bit." He shrugs. "We'll start tomorrow. Once we've got some decent shit, we'll start booking more shows. The radio station is holding a battle of the bands in a couple months for the opening slot at The Killers show."    

I nod slowly, letting his words sink in. I'm really doing this. I'm really starting this whole thing all over again.    

Fuck, I really should have been sent to the psych ward, not rehab.

"Tusk"-Fleetwood Mac