Ties That Bind

Chapter 35. I'm So Afraid

When the next day arrived, Stevie would find herself pretty busy with Lindsey since he had a concert that night. Though when mid afternoon rolled around, the whole band met up with management and assistants at the venue to start getting things ready, such as the dressing rooms and sound check.

"Oh, Stevie... I didn't know you were here," Mick's deep British vocals filled the air as he was about to pass her by. He then scratched the back of his neck nervously as his eyes stayed fixated on her and her small cup of tea.

"Yeah, I just didn't come out last night---I was really tired and not feeling too well," she pointed out. "Why?" she averted her eyes to the tea bag and she started futzing with it.

"No reason---I just didn't know you were joining us..."

"Did Lindsey have to tell you?" she asked out of slight defense.

"No, not at all!" he piped up immediately. "I mean, it's good to see you---we haven't seen you since the funeral and you're pregnant," he gestured gently.

"Yeah," she kind of glanced down at her tummy. "I um, I'm gonna meet with Lindsey in his dressing room... Hope you don't mind."

"Not at all," he smiled gently and made his way---passing her by sort of quickly.

"Okay..." she mumbled under her breath as she descended the hallway.

Lindsey was seated in a chair; looking as though he was going to spring from the seat at any moment while a male was applying a light powder to his face and the thinnest amount of black eyeliner to his eyes.

"Hey," he winked at her as she settled on the couch, tossing her legs along the couch as she leaned on the arm with her foam tea cup.

"Hello..." she sipped the warm beverage. "I just talked to Mick---he was really surprised to see me," she had to bring up. "Kinda weirded me out, if I'm being honest."

"Yeah, he has that affect on people," he semi laughed.

"Did you happen to tell them I was pregnant?" she had to ask. "Because he looked really surprised about that too."

"No, we can tell them," he thought back. "They didn't go to the reception so they didn't hear. I thought I told them," he shook his head.

"I'm not worried," she waved it off. "He just looked at me as though I was a ghost---like he did something shady."

"He's... high," he shrugged. "Like I said, just disregard him, but he's British so be courteous."

She nodded---having done so already.

"Are you feeling okay?" he asked.

"Mhmm. I'm just excited to see you play live. I love your little setup in here. So interesting to see how all this works, y'know?"

Chuckling low, "I guess."

"I guess you're used to it," she added.

"Pretty much," he shrugged. "Sometimes it doesn't always feel that exciting... Once we get on stage, there's a total euphoric rush and usually some nerves, but it depends on the day," he got off the chair and thanked the makeup artist. He approached the back of the couch and he started doing exercises with his hands since he would often get hand cramps by his intense guitar playing. "I should've soaked my hands in some hot water."

"Do they hurt?" she ran the pad of her soft thumb over the tips of his callused fingertips.

"Not right now, but ten songs in and it'll start flaring up a bit. It's mostly the left because of the fret board, but then the right because of the finger picking method I use. I just gotta keep them moving---" he opened and closed them multiple times as if he we were stopping an arthritic shock.