As John and Christine wrapped up soundcheck, John couldn't shake off his concern for Christine. "Are you okay, Chris? You seem a bit off," he asked, noticing her heavy breathing.
Christine brushed off his worry, insisting she was fine. But with each reassurance, her anxiety only seemed to grow, culminating in her retreating to her dressing room and vomiting into a nearby garbage can.
John followed, attempting to comfort her, but she pushed him away, overwhelmed by her nerves. Alone in her dressing room, Christine battled her anxiety, her stomach now aching.
A knock on the door startled her, and she absentmindedly invited John in. "I'm sorry for earlier, Chris. I'm just really concerned," John apologized.
Despite Christine's reassurances that it was just a stomach ache, John knew better. He gently acknowledged her anxiety and offered to help calm her down.
Trying various techniques, John finally resorted to a last resort method. He sharpened his nails with Christine's file and scratched her back firmly. Surprisingly, Christine's deep breaths signaled relief, and she thanked him as they were called onstage.
After the gig as the plane journey continued, Christine found herself seated at the back, while the rest of the band occupied seats near the front. John, always attentive to her needs, chose a spot close to her, keeping a watchful eye on her throughout the flight.
Suddenly, the plane hit some unexpected turbulence, causing Christine's anxiety to spike. Sensing her distress, John immediately rushed to her side, his voice soft but urgent as he whispered, "Everything's gonna be fine, Chris. Just focus on your breathing."
Christine nodded, her heart racing as she leaned into him, seeking solace in his presence. John's reassuring whispers and gentle touch calmed her nerves, gradually easing her anxiety.
In that vulnerable moment, Christine realized the depth of John's care for her. He was always there, ready to offer support and comfort without hesitation. Grateful for his unwavering presence, she subtly removed her shoe and crossed her leg, resting it in her lap as she began to rub her foot to ease her nerves.
John noticed her gesture and gently asked, "May I?" as he pointed to her other shoe. Initially, Christine insisted she was fine, but John's persistence melted her resolve. "I can't imagine wearing those shoes all night," he remarked, his voice filled with genuine concern, before gently insisting on massaging her other foot.
Christine allowed her legs to rest in his lap, feeling a rush of warmth and affection wash over her. As John began to massage her feet, she closed her eyes, basking in the tenderness of the moment.
Their unspoken connection deepened as they shared this intimate exchange, their bond growing stronger with each passing moment. In John, Christine found not just a bandmate, but a true friend who would always be there to offer comfort and support, both on and off stage.
As Christine sat up, she rested her head on John's shoulder once more, her gratitude palpable in the air. John returned her gesture with a warm smile, but then a peculiar thought crossed his mind, something he had heard about relieving anxiety.
"You know," John began, his voice tinged with mischief, "I heard eating a spoonful of peanut butter is a great tool for relieving anxiety."
Christine scoffed at the idea, immediately dismissing it. "It is not," she retorted firmly.
Amused, John persisted, "Yes, it is," before conceding, "You're right, it's not." Yet, the idea lingered in his mind. "But I wonder, would it actually work?"
Unwilling to entertain the notion, Christine replied firmly, "Whether it works or not, I'm not trying it. I won't eat before a gig, remember last time?"
John's mind flashed back to a tumultuous moment during the '70s Rumours tour. Christine's innocent indulgence in a sandwich backstage had led to a disastrous outcome onstage. Memories flooded back to the '70s Rumours tour, to a moment of sheer panic and chaos.
Christine's innocent indulgence in a sandwich backstage had quickly spiraled into a nightmare. Mid-performance, she doubled over, her face drained of color as she struggled to keep her composure.
Sensing trouble, John rushed to her side, his heart pounding with worry. Backstage, he found her doubled over, her body wracked with nausea. "Are you okay?" John's voice trembled with concern as he knelt beside her, offering a steadying hand.
"You'll be alright," he reassured her softly, his presence a comforting anchor in the chaos. With John's support, Christine managed to steady herself, though the memory of that moment lingered like a shadow.
Now, as they prepared to return to the stage after Christine's bout with nausea, John's concern was palpable. "Are you alright to go back onstage?" he asked, his voice filled with worry.
Christine hesitated, placing a hand on her stomach as she weighed her options. "I'm not sure," she admitted, her voice strained with uncertainty.
Sensing her hesitation, John gently suggested, "Maybe you should rest backstage and allow your stomach some time to settle."
But Christine shook her head, determination flashing in her eyes. "No, I'd rather be onstage," she insisted, her resolve unwavering.
Taking charge, John called over a stagehand and requested some ginger ale. When it arrived, he handed it to Christine, insisting on taking her accordion and suggesting she stick to the keyboard for the rest of the night.
Agreeing reluctantly, Christine took a sip of the ginger ale, feeling its soothing warmth as they walked hand in hand back onstage. As they approached her keyboard, she took another sip and addressed the crowd. "Don't worry, everyone, I'm fine," she reassured them, her voice steady despite the lingering discomfort. "Just shouldn't have eaten before going onstage."
Stevie noticed the can of ginger ale on Christine's keyboard. "Christine, if you're nauseous, maybe you should go rest backstage," she suggested over the microphone, concern evident in her voice.
Lindsey chimed in, his voice echoing Stevie's concern. "I agree," he added, his tone serious.
But John intervened, his voice firm and unwavering. "She wants to be onstage, so let her stay onstage," he asserted, his gaze steady on Christine. "But Christine, if you go offstage again, you're staying offstage to rest."
Christine nodded, acknowledging John's directive as they continued their performance. And as the gig came to a close, she couldn't help but feel grateful for John's unwavering support, both on and off stage.
John was jolted back to the present, a wry smile playing on his lips. "Right, sorry. Don't want a repeat of that, do we?"
Chuckling in agreement, Christine replied, "Not really," as they continued their conversation, their shared memories serving as a reminder of the bond they shared. And as the plane landed, they prepared for their next gig, grateful for the unwavering support they provided each other through every high and low.
