We were playing another large show, making it difficult to identify the faces in the crowd. There was always one I was looking out for, one that seemed to randomly appear. It didn't matter what part of the world I was performing in, sometimes they would just be there - conveniently in the front row.
Normally, I'd think it was just a hardcore fan who could afford to fly out to our shows, but I know this face. My vocals usually freeze when my eyes finally land on them, body stiffening as a familiar, yet haunting chill runs down my spine. Then my band mates typically cast confused glances my way, I have to give them an apologetic smile so they'll simply ignore me. Sometimes Mike will confront me about it, but most of the time nothing's ever said.
I'm having trouble seeing into the crowd tonight with the blazingly bright lights flashing down on us. There must've been plenty of other nights I didn't notice him because of this issue. I decide to stop seeking him out for the night.
Thankfully, he's never showed up to a meet and greet, but the thought scares me. To be confronted by him in front of my bandmates sounds like a living nightmare. I wonder why he keeps coming, but maybe it's best I don't know. I'm trying to ignore him as much as possible, however I can't.
Every time I see him in the crowd, he's glaring at me so hatefully. I don't understand why he's here if he feels that way. Maybe it's not hateful, but that's how his expression makes me feel. He's clearly angry and he's always looking straight at me, his gaze never falters or flickers away. It freaks me out.
If he wanted to hurt me, he's had plenty of opportunities within the last however many years - too many. Instead, he just shows up to watch me with a pissed off look on his face. Is he doing this to keep me quiet? I haven't told anyone with any sort of authority and it has been years. He has no reason to continue silencing me. I don't know or understand his motives and that's what terrifies me so much. Since he's been doing this for so long, though, I started to call myself paranoid and pushing myself into a state of denial.
Sometimes I wonder if he's stalking me, but fear conquers all in my brain - it reverts me back into dismissing his actions. I invalidate the situation and hide it, making it easy to pretend it doesn't exist. Since he hasn't hurt me in so long, what he's doing can't be threatening. Since nobody else knows, I can just reassure myself everything's fine. I live my life with this ticking time bomb in the background, occasionally freaking out when I remember it's there. It hasn't gone off, it must not be a problem.
I'm thankful when the show ends. I enjoy preforming, but there will always be this fear of what could be in the crowd. He could've been out there the whole time, I don't want his eyes on me. I don't want him anywhere near me.
Immediately, I go for a towel while I'm backstage to wipe my face. Grabbing one of the water bottles on the table that were waiting for us, I drink half the bottle. I put all of my emotions into our songs tonight, I can tell the adrenaline is wearing off. I'm exhausted mentally and physically.
"You sounded amazing tonight!" Mike cheers, wrapping an arm around me. "Oh god, you're so sweaty."
"The towel should've been a clear warning," I laughed and shrugged him off me, so I could clean myself off a little more. "Thank you for the compliment, though."
"Seriously, you did great. You seemed more focused than usual, no freeze ups tonight," He pointed out and I rolled my eyes with a deep sigh.
"I can't control that," I vaguely replied, which wasn't a lie.
"Chester, either way, you sounded perfect. Don't think too much," His arm around me returned, pulling me in. "I'm always here if you need me."
"I appreciate you," I smiled and returned his hug before we parted ways. He usually goes back to the hotel with Brad and Rob after the show. Phoenix and Joe usually hang around the venue for awhile, meeting a few fans before going out for food. Sometimes I join them, but lately I've chosen solitude instead to deal with these thoughts.
I walk outside the venue and pull out a cigarette and lighter. The band thinks I quit, but have one every now and then. I crave the familiar, yet toxic, ease of nicotine. It distracts me, even if for only just a moment. This has become habit again, to light one after a show. Realizing I do this so often, I start to wonder what would happen if he confronted me while I was smoking.
I'd be all alone, my bandmates either distracted by fans or long gone. I'm not strong enough to protect myself. I try to work out, but I know it's not enough. He's on the heavier side and a head taller than me. He's gained weight while I have lost mine. If I don't keep up on exercise, my body seems to simply deflate. I usually can't work out like I want to when we're on tour. I am weak, especially against him.
A shiver runs down my spine at the thought as I finish my cigarette. I decide to light another as I attempt thinking of lighter things. None of that could ever happen, right? He's had plenty of times he could have hurt me and hasn't, I shouldn't be so worried. Besides, I'm with my band, my brothers. Maybe he can overtake me, but not five other fully grown men. I need to calm down and just ignore him. It's worked for this long. Everything will be fine.
