Don't Look Away

Envy, Malice, Your Attention

I stared at the man in front of me, whom I could barely recognize under the layers of makeup and the neon green strobe lights that spotlighted him as the center. Give him all your attention, it called. He's the star.

From the side of the stage, I saw a perspective of the concert that the audience couldn't. The heavy cameras that had to be loaded on and off the bus with each show, the scowls painted on the roadies' faces when the band came out, and the crowd would be cheering for The Lookaways, and stars of the show would take all the recognition away from their hard work. Even in the dark, you could see the sweat dripping off the crew.

I always ensure that they were paid well, and considered most of them friends I'd made along the way. They had families to care for, and being out on the road on a tour through North America for the next three months would mean abandoning their loved ones to put food on the table.

"He looks a little nervous tonight. Must be the first show jitters." Sapnap tightened the bandana that wrapped around his head as he came up from behind me, catching his breath. He'd just spent the past half hour sprinting around backstage, his ritual before shows.

"He's still killing it, though," I said, flipping a cigarette between my fingers. The singing lessons must have really helped. I reminisced back to the discord calls, in a voice channel with just Dream and the music bot, his voice untrained and singing carefree, to whichever song was fitting our mood. The notes that Dream was once straining through laughter to reach he was now belting out for a sold-out venue in Boston.

Sapnap's eyebrows were knitted in disapproval at the rolled nicotine in my hand. "You know he doesn't like it when you smoke around him."

"I'm not going to light it." I waved my hands as a way to brush Sapnap off of me like he was dust on my shirt. I knew that both me and him were far too busy to be making small talk during the show, especially when the acoustic song was ending, and we'd have to be running back on stage to transition into the next one.

Sapnap must have just come to the realization as well, muttering swears as he sprinted to the back to grab the 12 string bass.

We were always drastically different, me and Sapnap. I was always on top of my work, planners on my phone, on my laptop, in my mind. Sapnap on the other hand was used to work that required physical ability, while I nearly passed out the time I had to fill in for a sick roadie, my arms most definitely not cut out to carry the floor monitor I was tasked to carry.

"You guys are amazing." The stage lights swung to shine onto Dream's smile, already undeniably bright as he adjusted the microphone on the stand in front of him. "That was our acoustic song, Helium Waves, with our wonderful lead guitarist Ryan Ross up here with me. But I'd like to welcome the rest of the band up here, drummer Manus Kelley, bassist Sapnap, and rhythm guitarist George!"

The endless wave of adoring fans cheered for us, and the crew began rushing to get the rest of us prepared to get onto the stage. I squinted my eyes into the darkness of the crowd, trying to see the expressions that adorned each of their faces. Was it helpless love? Obsession? Dream always had his fair share of infatuated stans, screaming about how they'd die for him. I had a handful as well; I'd be lying if I said I hadn't seen the fancams of me strumming my guitar, with sweaty hair sticking to my forehead, filters piled on top. It made me seem almost like a holy figure.

I recalled a time, it was probably Dream's fourth show ever at a high-end bar in Georgia where someone stormed onto the stage, hair wild, wrapping their arms around him in a hug. Dream had flinched a bit, but eventually put a tentative hand on the girl's shoulder, hugging her back, but he couldn't conceal the initial panic that shifted to discomfort.