Kings of Jupiter: A Why Choose Romance (Ink and Lyrics Duet Book 1) by Nacole Stayton

Author:Nacole Stayton [Stayton, Nacole]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Nacole Stayton Publishing, LLC.
Published: 2024-03-14T00:00:00+00:00

20

VIOLETS ARE BLUE

MAZEN

The high before a show is addictive.

I chase the sudden rush of adrenaline like one would the thrill of skydiving or dangerous lines of work, like firefighting. My line of work doesn’t ever put me in the crossfire, unless you call hordes of people chasing you down an alleyway hazardous to your health. Oddly enough, it still lights me on fire from the inside out.

As a kid, I was the one in our house, always yelling, “Listen to this!” or, “Look at me!”

I’ve been performing in a sense since I was old enough to remember. As an adult and a paid musician, it’s still the same. Except now, I have masses of people and employees vying for my attention.

My longing of needing to feel seen undoubtedly started within the walls of my childhood home. The only person who really paid attention to me then was my baby sister, Bethany.

When our manager, Nick, pounds on my dressing room door, yelling we have five minutes to showtime, I revel in the blast of epinephrine to my brain. Nothing can compare to what this moment feels like. It wavers between a frenzy and pure exhilaration. The feeling isn’t drug-induced, although I’ve tried to mimic this feeling more than a handful of times with several substances and really good weed.

My chest pounds, and my palms sweat, not in apprehension, but rather anticipation to be in my element. I almost feel like I’m a car, revving up my engine at a stoplight. I know that go time is nearing, and I have to pump my brakes to slow my racing heart.

Allowing myself to blanket reality, I push everything from my mind and solely focus on the present and my preshow ritual. It’s the same one I’ve been doing for nearly a decade. Starting with twenty-five jumping jacks, fifty push-ups, and finishing with fifty sit-ups, just enough movement to get my blood pumping rapidly and my body amped up. I jump up and down, and thunder ricochets behind my rib cage. I take a deep breath, hold it, and redirect my energy, preparing to enter my sacred place—the stage.

It’s the only place in the world that exists where I feel truly at peace, free. The voices in my head go silent. It’s just me and my band rocking out and letting our souls catch fire. Our dynamic is powerful. Years of honing our craft as one rather than individual musicians have ensured that we’re as in tune with one another as the instruments we play. Our mood and vibes feed off one another and are encouraged by our crowd.

Music is an open forum love letter. A declaration of promises beating simultaneously with a myriad of emotion and sounds. It’s not just what I do; it’s who I am. It’s embedded in the depth of my soul, my own chorus dashing through my veins. In a language that flows through my soul, I become immersed when I write or perform. Without music, I’m nothing. Just ask Lorenzo Wilde.

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