Onstage Adjustment -(TG)

From behind the darkened curtain, I eyed the sparse, bored-looking crowd with dread, fingers absently picking at my old guitar strings. At thirty-three, after nearly fifteen years of struggling from dive bar to dive bar, I was seriously considering calling it quits. My drummer, Jack, leaned over, tapping his sticks nervously against the edge of my amp.

“Another crowd like this and I swear I’m out,” he muttered.

I laughed bitterly. “Same, man. Feels like we’re spinning our wheels.”

Dale, our bassist, sighed heavily, adjusting his cap. “Maybe we should’ve gone country.”

A snort escaped me as the announcer half-heartedly called out, “Give it up for Blue Static!” It felt like a joke nobody cared to share in.

I pushed aside the gloomy thoughts as we stepped on stage, greeted by a weak applause. Adjusting my worn-out strap, I glanced up to the balcony railing. That’s when I saw them for the first time—two young women leaning casually against the railing, looking down at us with bemused smirks. The redhead especially seemed amused, confidently flicking her hair, chatting animatedly with her blonde companion.

“Hey,” Jack whispered as he counted us in. “Check it out. We’ve got groupies.”

I shot him a glare, suppressing a grin, and strummed the opening chord. But my eyes kept drifting back to the balcony. It was weird—the redhead seemed so smug, like she was enjoying an inside joke at our expense.

Halfway through the second song, the venue's dim lights flickered briefly, distracting me. Dale looked up from his bass, confused, but Jack hammered on, oblivious. My heart sped up a bit, fingers suddenly unsure on familiar strings. I stumbled through the next chords, fighting dizziness.

Above, the two women were whispering fiercely, the redhead smirking triumphantly while the blonde nudged her playfully. It felt oddly personal, like their laughter was directed right at me. Sweat prickled along my neck, and my throat tightened uncomfortably.

Something felt off.

I glanced toward Jack for reassurance but found myself staring blankly. When had Jack shaved his beard? His face was smoother, younger-looking beneath his messy dark curls. Maybe he’d mentioned shaving? Strange, I couldn't recall.

Dale missed a note, giving me a puzzled frown. He looked softer somehow, lighter. His hair was longer, no cap now, hanging loosely down his back. Wait, Dale didn't wear his hair long… did he?

Shaking my head, I convinced myself I was just tired. The road wore on us all, messing with our minds. Yet each time I looked up, the two women were watching, entertained. It unnerved me.

After the next song, my chest felt oddly restricted. Annoyed, I tugged at the front of my shirt, adjusting a neckline I didn’t remember being so low. My hand brushed something at my throat—a thin, black velvet choker. I faltered. It felt strangely familiar. Comfortable, almost reassuring. Of course it was—Mom’s choker. I'd worn it every gig since she'd passed. Wait... had I always? Yes, of course, I reminded myself firmly. A lucky charm.

Looking down, I realized my boots had heels now, elevating me slightly. The leather hugged my calves gently. Confusion filled my head, but the next song pulled me from thought, and my fingers moved instinctively over the frets.

Jack—Jamie, I corrected myself absently—counted us in again, grinning through shimmering lip gloss. Wait, lip gloss?

I must be imagining things, stressed and tired from too many shows.

We moved seamlessly through the set, each passing song making my worries fade further into the background. By the middle of the performance, I felt strangely revitalized. The melancholy I'd started with had been replaced by a playful, energetic joy I'd forgotten I could feel onstage.

Looking up again, the women were still there, but the smugness had softened into encouragement, the blonde nudging the redhead as if impressed. A flicker of pride rose within me. Good, I thought, suddenly self-conscious in a different way.

Near the end, the lights pulsed again, an ethereal glow washing briefly over me. Warmth surged through my body, oddly comforting. My breath caught, a sensation like static electricity running across my skin, reshaping me subtly, effortlessly.

When the sensation faded, I glanced down at myself, briefly puzzled at the slender, feminine hands gripping the guitar neck. My nails sparkled gently under the stage lights, neatly polished a subtle shade of dark purple. For half a heartbeat, it felt strange. But why? I always kept them painted—that was just me.

I brushed silky bangs from my eyes, my hair falling easily over my shoulders. Funny, earlier I'd tied it back to keep from sweating, but now it was perfectly styled, curls bouncing as I played.

A sharp, cheerful giggle beside me pulled my attention. Dani—my bassist—was laughing at something Jamie had said, her earrings glittering in the stage light. Both of them looked so young tonight, so vibrant. Had we always been like this? I shrugged mentally; of course, we had. Why question it?

The redhead on the balcony applauded softly, nodding in approval. The blonde smiled warmly. Their expressions were kind now, no trace of mockery remaining. I felt an inexplicable gratitude toward them.

Whatever their secret joke was, it clearly wasn't malicious.

The final notes rang out, met by enthusiastic applause. We bowed, flushed and smiling, waving to the crowd. My spirits soared, feeling alive in a way I hadn’t for years. I beamed at Dani and Jamie, the three of us sharing a triumphant moment.

“Hey Brooke,” Jamie called out softly, leaning over her drum kit. Her voice was warm, affectionate, familiar. “You were amazing tonight.”

I blushed, fingers idly toying with Mom's choker. “We all were,” I replied, noticing how naturally my voice sounded—bright and lilting, comfortably feminine. “Maybe we won’t quit after all.”

Jamie chuckled softly, stepping closer. “Quit? Never crossed my mind.”

Then, without warning, she leaned forward, capturing my lips in a soft, tender kiss. Instinctively, I stiffened, my mind briefly stumbling over confusion—was this right? But the hesitation melted away instantly as my heart recognized the warmth, the intimacy. Of course this was right. Jamie was my fiancée.

How could I forget that?

Pulling back slightly, Jamie studied my expression with concern. “You okay?”

I smiled, eyes fluttering shyly. “Yeah, sorry. Just spaced for a second.”

“That's Brooke,” Dani teased gently, shaking her head. “Dreamy as always.”

I giggled softly, warmth blossoming in my chest. Yes, I supposed I was a bit dreamy, always lost in my thoughts. Jamie wrapped her arm around my waist, pulling me close. I leaned into her warmth, smiling contentedly.

Glancing up at the balcony one last time, I saw the redhead and blonde women exchange pleased, knowing smiles. Whatever their secret had been, it had made tonight special. I wondered idly what they’d been giggling about during our set, but shrugged it off easily. It didn’t matter. Tonight, nothing did except this perfect moment.

As the venue slowly emptied, we began packing our gear. Dani sighed happily. “You know, ladies, it really feels like our time is finally coming. I have a good feeling.”

Jamie grinned at her. “Told you the world just needed a little Blue Static.”

I laughed softly, packing away my guitar. As I closed the case, my reflection in the chrome latches caught my eye—a pretty young woman smiled warmly back at me. My features felt both fresh and familiar, beautiful in a comfortably casual way. This was me: Brooke, guitarist and lead vocalist for Blue Static, twenty-two and engaged to the woman I adored. Everything felt perfect and natural.

As we walked out into the cool night air, Jamie took my hand, fingers intertwining lovingly. Dani playfully nudged my shoulder. “Hey Brooke, think those two chicks up there were into us?”

I giggled shyly. “Probably just fans.”

Jamie squeezed my hand. “Well, whoever they were, it seemed like they brought us luck tonight.”

I smiled knowingly, gently touching Mom’s choker at my throat again. Maybe they had. After all, tonight had changed everything—somehow, it felt like our story was just beginning.

And as Jamie kissed my cheek, I knew it was true. I couldn't wait to see what came next.